I wouldn’t turn any customer down. And Saul was the best tipper I’d ever had.

  Even for food he didn’t like.

  Since it was slow again, and so close to closing, I ended up spending most of my night standing at the counter while he ate. It would’ve been a productive hour and a half of getting to know him, but he was cagey like that.

  Then again, I was too. If I asked him direct questions about himself, he’d take it as a sign that he could ask them of me right back. And that wouldn’t do. I was just as secretive as he was, if not more.

  “You’re not good at this getting-to-know-you stuff, are you?” he teased.

  “Neither are you,” I replied.

  Propping his chin in his hand, he sighed and stared at me. He was the last person in here, and I relished this privacy with him.

  “We’ve all got our secrets,” he replied.

  Clearly. And he was so good at keeping his that I was getting suspicious of what he could be hiding.

  I wasn’t any better. I was hiding Oscar the best I could.

  No amount of late-night conversations about anything and everything with this sexy man would convince me to trust him, either.

  Nothing would, and that was the most depressing fact of life that I could acknowledge.

  10

  SAUL

  It didn’t take me long to learn that Oscar stayed with a sitter on Wednesday nights. They became my favorite night of the week since I could have Willow to myself. As much as she’d let me.

  We were both too secretive. Yet, that intrigued me too. She wasn’t playing hard to get but was trying to keep her distance out of a sense of survival.

  But from what?

  I had the resources to look her up and investigate who Willow was, but I wanted her to open up to me because she wanted to. Because she wanted me to know who she was.

  She could declare that nothing would happen between us, but I wasn’t a quitter. So long as she continued to give me those small smiles that she just couldn’t hide and so long as she kept seeking me out and watching me with curiosity when she thought I wasn’t looking, I had to have hope.

  The next Wednesday night when I showed up, I was glad that I wouldn’t startle her like I had last time. I lacked the time to go change and clean up after handling a couple of assholes in a fight at one of the bars we owned, and I’d hurried so I wouldn’t miss seeing her completely. It was sweet how she’d been concerned, but I wasn’t stupid. She was likely worrying that I was some kind of a bad guy who was prone to violence with evidence of an injury.

  Many would categorize me as a villain simply because I was a member of the Ivanov Syndicate. And perhaps, according to the circumstances, people could be justified in thinking that.

  But I didn’t care. I was proud of my family and who I was. We represented power and wealth, even if we had to be our own version of law and order to maintain it. It was a cutthroat world out there, and I wasn’t ashamed of who I was.

  However…

  I kicked a pebble off the sidewalk as I walked toward the diner to see her.

  However, it’d be really stupid to tell an already skittish and skeptical woman that I was a Mafia man.

  The last thing I wanted to do was scare her off. Or Oscar. Getting to know him wasn’t a waste of time, and I couldn’t get over how easy it was to laugh with him. With the shit I put up with, I needed more excuses to lighten up and laugh when I could.

  By the time I reached the diner, the rush was over. She was wiping off the counter, distracted and maybe bored. But the second I entered, she looked up and gave me that sly smile.

  “Saul, you’ve got to have better things to do than come here every night,” she said as a greeting.

  “Nonsense.” I stuck my hands in my pockets and leaned against the counter, admiring her gorgeous green eyes alit with mischief and amusement. “Nothing is better than coming here to see you.”

  Irene breezed by and huffed a jealous laugh. “Geez! Stalker much?”

  Willow frowned at her for a pensive moment before looking at me. “Are you stalking me?”

  I leaned in more and beckoned her closer, crooking my finger at her. Once she was slanted over the counter to meet me in the middle, I turned to put my lips near her ear and savored the warmth of her so close, the vanilla sweetness of her skin, likely her lotion.

  Fuck, I was addicted to the idea of her.

  “Do you want me to stalk you?” I whispered in reply.

  She pulled back, rolling her eyes and smiling. “Funny.”

  I meant it, though.

  I sat, sighing heavily. “It’s the truth. I enjoy coming here.”

  She arched her brows. “Just to see me?”

  I nodded. “My job is overwhelming,” I admitted.

  She opened and closed her mouth, probably frustrated that she couldn’t ask what my job was and get a direct answer.

  “Seeing you is the brightest highlight of my day,” I admitted.

  “Boy, lay on the flattery all you want,” Margo grumped as she walked by, “but that ain’t gonna work with this one.” She jerked her thumb at Willow.

  Then what will work? I was getting near the most epic case of blue balls that could happen.

  “You’re sweet to say that,” Willow said, “but she’s right. I am flattered, but I’m not in the right frame of mind to date anyone.”

  I watched her, mesmerized by her sweet expression. It was a soft rejection, but she was standing her ground. This woman wouldn’t be swayed, and I had to admit that was hot. A woman who knew what she wanted? It was damned sexy.

  Still, I had to wonder why she was so against giving me a chance. Had she been hurt before? Was she skeptical of me, particularly? If she knew who I was, that would be an intimidating factor, but she acted clueless about what family or power I belonged to.

  I wasn’t used to being rejected, and it was an oddity I couldn’t understand.

  “We could be friends,” she proposed after a long moment of quiet.

  “Friends?” I caught myself from laughing out loud. Friends. Yeah, right. We could try that and just see how long that would last. The second she could see that I was this interested and ready to get her into my life, she wouldn’t want to leave.

  Even though she was giving me an alternative option for something with her, I couldn’t shut off this frustration. What bothered me more was how hurt I was by her telling me no, thanks. I’d never endured this experience. And for it to come from her, it stung. I’d already been putting her on that high of a pedestal, thinking about her too much and letting her get under my skin.

  “Yeah, friends.” She raised both brows in a silent question, almost as if she were second-guessing that offer.

  I sighed, looking off to the side as she backed up to grab her purse from beneath the counter space. When she rounded the opening to the area, I stood up straight and watched her leave with a wave to Margo.

  We didn’t speak as I walked her outside. Side by side, we moved together until we were on the sidewalk. I racked my mind for a reply to being friend-zoned. I wanted a lot more than being friends, but I was aware that I had to pace myself. I couldn’t risk scaring her off or pushing her. I didn’t know everything about her, but I was very aware that I had to take this slowly.

  “Well… good night.” Before she stepped away, she leaned in close and pressed her lips to my cheek. An instant hit of need and warmth went through me. Just like when I’d captured her hand to stop her from writing an order on her pad, that electric zing snapped from the contact between us. That was how aware I was, how acutely tuned in to her touch that I could be frozen with a small thrill at her reaching out to me at all. To take the initiative toward me. To kiss me.

  It was a peck on my cheek, nothing more, but because it was her lips brushing against my skin, it felt like everything.

  Grabbing her elbow lightly, I kept her close. Before she could step back, she had to lift her face to mine and answer me.

  “What was that for?” I asked, my voice low.

  With her almost flush to me, my hand on her arm and her gaze dropping to my lips as she exhaled a breathy sigh, it seemed like we had entered a private bubble. Like it was just the two of us staring each other down. The rest of the world faded and only this tense moment hung between us.

  “What was that for, Willow?” I asked again as I slid my hand down from her elbow. It was a slow caress until I came to her hand. Then I squeezed it before releasing her.

  She flinched a little from the grip on her fingers, as if I had her in a trance.

  “You just said you wanted to be friends, then you kiss me?” I teased playfully.

  My heart was thundering so fast from that simple kiss on my cheek. My dick was about to get harder yet with the idea of having her lips on me again—anywhere.

  “Are you trying to play games with me?” I asked as I stepped back, watching her open and close her mouth as she sought an answer. “You’re sending me mixed messages here.”

  “No.” She shook her head quickly, jerking it as she blinked. “No. I’m not. No mixed messages. No games.” She tucked the errant strands of red behind her ears. Shrugging as she glanced away and retreated a step, she cleared her throat. “I kissed your cheek. That’s all. As a good night.”

  “Hmm.” I shoved my hands in my pockets, committing this moment to memory. The first time I’d gotten her truly flustered was a milestone as far as I was concerned.

  “Nothing more,” she insisted with a nod as she backed up more.

  Sure. Sure. Nothing more.

  I saw it as everything more. A tempting sign that she wasn’t completely platonic toward me. It was just a peck on my cheek, but it was the first move made between us, and I would be damned if I had to interpret that as a sign of friendship and nothing more.

  Where this beautiful mystery woman was concerned, I wanted everything more.

  “Good night,” I called out to her as she hastily turned around and walked away.

  “And sweet dreams,” I muttered, watching her back.

  I wouldn’t. If I went home and relived the memory of her lips touching me, I was guaranteed the filthiest and naughtiest dreams possible, with her starring as the one I wanted and couldn’t have. Yet.

  11

  WILLOW

  Nothing more.

  That was my explanation for Saul last night.

  It was a flimsy excuse to give him, but I couldn’t think up anything else to provide a reason for kissing him.

  If I’d told him that I hated to disappoint him, that would be surrendering my independence, to admit that his feelings and reactions were more important than my stiff rejection of dating him. Or anyone.

  If I’d told him that I wished we could be more than mere friends, I would’ve been lying directly to his face because I was nowhere near ready to let a man into my life. I wasn’t prepared to open up and let a single stranger into my life.

  But already, he wasn’t just some sexy stranger who came to the diner every night. He wasn’t a random guy whose name I knew while wanting to know so much more. If he didn’t stand out so much and so clearly look like someone who didn’t belong in this working-class establishment, then I bet he would’ve already slipped from my mind.

  He hadn’t.

  Instead, he was on my mind all the time. He consumed my thoughts, and after I’d taken the bold step to kiss his cheek as a good-night parting, he crept into my mind no matter what I was doing.

  This is ridiculous.

  I’d seen hot guys before. I’d had handsome men as my customers at the diner. They’d never ensnared me like this. Like I was cursed to replay every interaction we’d shared. Like I was hexed to always have him in my daydreams, taunting me to bring me into my life more.

  “Do you think he’s lonely?” Oscar asked as I took him to school that morning.

  I blinked, not missing a beat. “I don’t know. Do you think he is?”

  There was no need to ask who he was talking about. My son was observant and perceptive and he’d noticed Saul from the first day. I had to trust the situation a little more when Saul sat at Oscar’s table. Then when they did homework together. And talked.

  And laughed.

  Saul wasn’t annoyed by Oscar’s amusement. He laughed right along with him.

  The difference between him and that whatshisname Irene wanted me to chat with was stark. I had so much to learn about Saul, but I had a hunch that he wasn’t one of those stuffy jerks who’d dislike kids.

  “I hope he’s not,” Oscar said. “But he kind of has to be if he keeps coming to the diner every night, right?”

  It was a mystery, one I wanted to solve. Margo assumed he was cheating on his wife and hiding while getting dinner, but that didn’t seem likely. A man like Saul wouldn’t hide from his wife. He seemed too… fierce. Passionate. If he were at odds with a woman—with anyone—he would be the kind of person to confront them and settle the issue directly. Even impatiently.

  Speculation was all I could do where he was concerned, and it was wearing on me.

  Oscar always told me everything that he and Saul talked about. No question alarmed me. And nothing that Oscar told him would be a risk. He knew better than to give away too many answers. Every time I saw them talking and getting along, though, it made me wonder if I was already making too many mistakes.

  I asked Margo for her opinion about it as soon as we had our first slow spell of downtime. “What if Oscar starts to like talking to him even more? What if he starts bonding with him, and it’ll never go anywhere with him?”

  Margo hummed, nodding her head. It was her tell that she was listening and thinking of an answer, careful with her words though blunt with them when she shared them.

  “He has befriended him quite easily,” she replied. “But that’s not terribly shocking. He hasn’t had any male… Uh, I suppose Saul could be like a male role model.” She shrugged. “Oscar hasn’t met many men who could have a steady presence in his life.”

  That was a deliberate choice of mine. “That’s true.” Before I’d let myself wallow in a little guilt trip about over-sheltering my son from the world and others, I shook my head and stuck with the pressing need to hide him and keep him as safe as possible. My boy was all I had, and it would never be a simple thing of loosening up where his safety mattered. “But I’m not so sure that Saul is someone I’d want to allow as a steady anything in his life.” Letting them sit at the booth and talk was fine. I could watch from a distance. I could see them and witness their nonverbal cues to ensure there wasn’t any manipulation going on.

  “What about in your life?” Margo raised her brows. She knew some of the details about why I was a single mother, but not the biggest ones. From early on, she’d guessed that I was avoiding Oscar’s father, or maybe I didn’t know him, and both of those were accurate.

  “I see how you get those little smiles now and then,” she commented, not judging or teasing but merely pointing it out.

  I shrugged.

  I couldn’t deny that Saul excited me. Having his attention on me had given me a renewed sense of mattering, but not in the same manner that I’d been taught to view the opposite sex. My parents had been extremely controlling about how I could ever view men or spend time with boys when I was younger. This was all new. Meeting Saul was a thrill I hadn’t navigated before, and I wasn’t ready to have it end.

  That night, it seemed like it had ended.

  He didn’t show.

  Then the next night, he was absent again.

  Oscar, of course, noticed. “Where do you think he is, Mama?” he asked from his booth as he did his homework.

  “I’m not sure,” I replied honestly, keeping my tone neutral. And how could I begin to guess where Saul could be? I had no clue where he lived, what his job was, where he worked, or anything else. For all I knew, he could’ve been passing through New York and traveling, never to be seen again at Tiny’s diner.

  For the rest of the week, I lost more and more hope that he’d just show up out of the blue like he had that first rainy night.

  And he didn’t.

  Margo noticed his absence. Irene and Rosie did too. That was how much of an obvious connection we’d been forming while not committing to anything. They all saw how he wasn’t here anymore, trying to talk to me or helping Oscar with homework.

  “Well,” Irene said when we were talking near the end of my shift at the end of the week, “what’d you say to him to spook him off?”

  She was rude to say it like that, but it didn’t change the fact that I had said something that clearly pushed him away.

  “Stop,” Rosie said, too sweet not to come to my defense. “Why does it have to be her fault that he’s not coming around anymore?”

  Irene smirked. “Because he was obviously only coming here to see her. What is it? You turned him down?”

  “No. That couldn’t be it,” Rosie protested, truly naïve. “He was just here to eat and liked talking to her.”

  “No, Rosie,” Irene drawled, exasperated. “A man only looks at a woman like Saul watched her when they want them. Really want them, and not to bring a meal out from the kitchen.”

  Rosie blushed and didn’t add anything else.

  I hated that Irene was likely right. That Saul wasn’t coming by anymore because he’d lost interest in me after I told him I wasn’t dating anyone right now. That I didn’t want to put myself out there to date anyone.

  See? He was just after me for sex. That settles it.

  I’d taken a risk to offer him friendship, nothing more. That was my pace of letting him be in my life at all, and that slowness, that basic level of companionship wasn’t good enough for him.

  Because he wanted more.

  He expected more.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I told them, lying bluntly.

  Deep down, it did matter. To me.

  It hadn’t been much, just existing in each other’s orbit and being aware of the other, but that was an important baby step for me, a woman who stubbornly and instantly avoided allowing anyone to get close.

 

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