Page 25 of Playing With The Mountain Man

“Thank you for an interesting afternoon,” Tillie started, turning toward me.

“Interesting?”

“Definitely.”

“Interesting enough that you’d consider doing it again sometime?”

I thought my heart was going to bust through my rib cage as I waited for her answer.

“Define sometime,” she challenged.

“Tomorrow?” I suggested, mentally crossing my fingers.

“Will there be hiking involved?”

“No. No hiking,” I promised.

“What’s the dress code?” Tillie asked, looking down at the balled-up dress in her lap.

“Dress code?” I repeated, trying to shake the only thought from my head.

“You’re terrible,” she accused, and to be fair, she wasn’t wrong.

“So, tomorrow?”

“One condition.”

“Done.”

“You don’t even know what it is!” she squawked, reaching out and batting my arm.

“Don’t care. You said yes. What time can I pick you up?” I pushed, trying to hold back my whoops and hollering until she was out of earshot.

“Is four too late? I work the late shift tomorrow cause Emmy’s off,” Tillie admitted, winding her dress around her hands nervously. Fuck she was adorable.

“If I meet you at four, what’s your curfew?” I asked.

“Curfew?”

“Well, if I don’t get to see you until later, can you stay later?”

Tillie smirked. Then she reached down, unsnapped her belt, and leaned across the console. “Play your cards right, and I might just stay all night.”

Chapter ten

Tillie

It was barely ten, and I was already two coffees, one energy drink, and a donut in, and I was still dragging my ass.

After Cody dropped me off, I snuck through the diner and went home, showered and climbed into bed ready for a decent night's sleep. But sleep eluded me. I tossed and turned all night, replaying every word Cody had said. At the memory of his touch, my blood heated. Eventually, I gave up trying to sleep and pulled my magic bullet from my bedside drawer. I needed to take the edge off if I had any chance of getting a decent night's rest. But my orgasm was as elusive as sleep. Just when I thought I was going to get there, it was gone.

Now I was not only tired but horny too. Not a good combination when your job was to project sparkles and rainbows as you served up a side of bacon with a smile.

With a coffee pot in one hand and a plate stacked high with pancakes in the other, I headed across the diner to deliver breakfast.

The moment my knee hit the chair, I knew I was in trouble. The pain was instant, but the embarrassment was worse. I watched in slow motion as pancakes, sticky with syrup and smothered in whipped cream, flew through the air, and splattered in front of a customer's feet. As I tried to right myself, the coffee pot hit the corner of the table and shattered. Steaming-hot coffee splattered my leg and seeped through my pants.

“Oh shit!” someone exclaimed.