Mr. Dangerous Page 4

  “Wow, that’s very efficient of you,” he said, impressed.

  “Thank you. The people of Rootsville are perpetually in a hurry, and usually for good reason. So, it’s important to offer fast service. That’s one of the reasons why people love this diner so much.”

  “Oh, they don’t love it for your beautiful smile?”

  She gulped and laughed nervously. “To the townsfolk, I’m still the little kid that worked under her parents.”

  “Well, that’s a shame,” he flirted. “I suppose they can’t see the gorgeous woman behind the ‘good girl’ image you portray.”

  “Hey, now!” she exclaimed, her voice lightening. “I am definitely not a ‘good girl.’ I’ll have you know that I can be very bad in many ways.”

  His tone turned challenging as he ran his finger up her arm, “Oh yeah? Prove it, then.”

  “You need to get to work. The clock is ticking,” she said breathlessly.

  He stared deep into her eyes for several moments, then slowly moved away – disappearing into the kitchen to begin working. What she would have given to press her lips deeply against his in that moment.

  Unfortunately, she had to start working before the hungry customers rolled in through the doors. Although the customers were most likely not yet awake, her employees definitely were. She spotted several cars pull up into parking spots and halt, exhaust fuming from the tail pipes. Each one of her waiters and waitresses were doing different pre-work tasks in their cars. She felt as though the way one acted before work said a lot about the person.

  Gwen, for example, sat in her pink, nondescript convertible car with a face full of makeup, looking as though she had already applied it hours earlier – with her top priority being to look great. Jasmine knew that Gwen had self-esteem problems from her arrogant attitude that was easily deflated by a small amount of stress.

  In her car, her head was glued to her phone as she giggled at an unheard compliment from her latest boy-toy. In the car next to her, a plain Honda Civic, sat Brooke who, contrary to Gwen, had not yet applied any makeup. Jasmine watched as the young woman applied a coat of mascara, started to apply another coat, but then got bored and pushed her makeup aside.

  A big-wheeled SUV sat nearby with Trevor, her only male waiter at the moment. He looked frazzled and was quickly shoving a breakfast bar in his face. If Jasmine had to guess, he had probably awoken only moments before, throwing on his uniform and driving to work.

  Finally, the last car currently in the lot was a small and cute Mini Cooper, driven by her newest waitress, Abby. Abby was sitting up straight, taking deep breaths and practicing a speech in her car mirror. Jasmine smiled. She loved her little café family.

  Speaking of family, she suddenly heard a loud thump from the upstairs bedroom. Thinking quickly, she sprinted through the apartment door and up the stairs to the living room. She stormed through Calvin’s room and found him on the floor. He was crumpled face first into the carpeting below his bed, as he must have fallen when he tried to get up. Sighing, she started to lift him up gently by the arm, but he pushed her away.

  “No,” he said, annoyed. “I’ve got it myself.”

  “You shouldn’t have gotten so drunk last night. What were you thinking? Why didn’t you call me?” she asked, still struggling to lift him up.

  “Jasmine, stop!” he yelled. “You have got to stop. I don’t want you to help me. I don’t even want you around. I just deal with you because you took me in when I needed you – which was very nice of you, but I don’t owe you anymore.”

  “What?” she gasped, tears instantly forming in her eyes. “What do you mean? Of course you don’t owe me. I love you and I just want to help you.”

  “You tried to help me by telling me to join the military, remember? Look how that turned out. Look what you did to me,” he said in a vile tone, oozing in anger and blame.

  She suddenly retreated, as if bitten by a snake. The poison of his words struck straight to her heart and grasped it tightly, squeezing until it barely was pumping at all. She shattered, her guilt reaching a peak, as her suspicions were correct – he did blame her for his injury in the military. She backed away in shock. Her fingers began shaking as she tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear and turned around. He didn’t want to see her anymore? Well, she didn’t want to see him anymore either – she had work to do anyway.

  Wiping the stream of tears off of her face, she reentered The Morning Bell and mentally prepared herself for the day ahead. By the time she put on her apron and tied her hair up in a bun, all of her employees were ready-to-serve and the first customer had already arrived: Mrs. Jones, who had eaten breakfast at the diner for as long as Jasmine could remember. She was still accompanied by her sons, only they were now polite eleven and thirteen-year-olds rather than rambunctious three and five-year-olds.

  She sat in a seat by the window with her boys. Jasmine signaled Abby, who jumped up excitedly to take her first order. After successfully writing down an order of three breakfast sandwiches, one coffee, and two glasses of water – much to the boys’ dismay – she handed the order paper to Jasmine, who posted it up in the window for Mason to cook.

  Once the food was ready, Jasmine grabbed the tray of food and handed it to Abby to bring to the family. Jasmine took the order paper to throw away, beginning to crumble it slightly. However, just as she stood over the trash can, a flash of unfamiliar writing caught her eye. The bottom of the paper contained a small note that read: “Jasmine, let’s cut the awkward flirting and skip straight to a hot date. My place after work, tonight at 6:30?”

  She raised both eyebrows in shock, looking up to the chef window, with no sign of Mason to be seen. He was busy cooking away in the kitchen. She knew she shouldn’t encourage his bad behavior, but something about it thrilled her. Biting her lip in a mix of nervousness and excitement, she quickly grabbed the next order paper and scribbled a large, capitalized “YES” on the bottom of the paper.

  The paper was clipped onto the kitchen window and awaited a response. This time, Mason appeared in the window and gave her a wink. However, behind his cool guy exterior, she saw a hint of excitement as well. His single dimple was apparent, as he was offering her a true smile. She could not wait for that evening; she just had to get through the long day of work first.

  The day crept along slowly until it eventually turned six o’clock. The anchor clock let off the dismissal alarm, causing Jasmine’s heart to fill with joy. After saying goodbye to her employees, she raced up to her apartment. Ignoring Calvin’s room, she ran to her closet and picked out a casual outfit with a hidden push-up bra and a pair of sexy, lacy underwear underneath. She enjoyed wearing boring clothing to surprise men with lingerie when they ripped her clothing off – and she was definitely going to allow Mason to have her tonight.

  There was more to the attraction, however, than simply lust. She truly felt happy when he was around, and couldn’t wait to explore the romance further. She even started to wonder if she could have an actual relationship with this man beyond dates and flirting. He was so different than her, but that only proved the concept that “opposites attract.”

  Where she faltered, she felt that he succeeded, and vice versa. He was the typical “bad boy” type of guy – mysterious, arrogant, and full of surprises. She, on the other hand, was the very opposite – social, sweet, and an open book. Being around Mason made her feel as if she were stepping out of her comfort zone and challenging herself to live her life in a different way.

  Growing up in Rootsville had a truly rooting effect on her mind. She never wanted to move away and loved her town, which was entirely all right. However, maybe it wouldn’t kill her to expand her horizons a bit and see some of the world. Perhaps she could place a waitress in charge of The Morning Bell for a while, go on vacation, and possibly see a new state beyond Ohio. She shook her head in disbelief at herself. What had gotten into her? She never cared about having a thrilling life before. Something about Mason made her wish for gr
eater things.

  Pulling her long, kinky curls out from her hair tie, she teased them gently to add volume. She sprayed a small squirt of her favorite perfume in her hair. The perfume smelled of vanilla and honey, a relaxing and intriguing scent of femininity that she enjoyed wearing on dates. She knew she was supposed to be meeting him at his place, but realized that she had no idea where he lived. Hopefully, he realized it as well.

  Jasmine exited the apartment without saying “goodbye,” to Calvin. When she entered The Morning Bell, she was greeted by Mason, who offered her a crooked smile and waited to take her to his apartment. He was also dressed casually, perhaps with a hidden secret underneath like she had. She raised an eyebrow as she mentally wondered what surprise he could be hiding in his pants, then giggled at her internal joke.

  “You clean up well,” she said sarcastically.

  “As do you,” he shot back.

  The tension between the two was thick, and it took all of her willpower not to kiss him. He leaned in closer to her, leading her to believe that he was about to satisfy her wish. Instead, he gently grabbed her hand and intertwined his fingers with hers, then led her out to his vehicle.

  Still a believer in cars that speak for their owners, she searched the lot for some model of Mustang, as she tagged Mason as a muscle car guy. After passing several cars of various makes and models, she suddenly saw it, the vehicle that spoke to Mason’s character: a huge, bulky motorcycle. He handed her a helmet and climbed onto the back of the dangerous vehicle.

  “Seriously?” she asked, hesitantly taking the helmet and placing it on her head.

  “Are you going to get on, or what?”

  “I’ve never been on a motorcycle,” she admitted.

  Motorcycles were extremely dangerous and obnoxious. Barely anyone in the quiet town of Rootsville had a motorcycle, let alone be happy with the loud sounds they made. She bit her lip and very slowly sat on the back – biding her time. Her heart began racing as she wrapped her arms around his chest and buried her face in his back to shield her eyes.

  “I’ll never let anything happen to you,” he said in serious tone, then quickly lightened the mood with a joke. “C’mon, live a little.”

  Despite his joke, she replied meaningfully, “I trust you.”

  “Good,” he nodded, then with a loud bang, he started the engine and sped out of the parking spot.

  As he raced through the streets of the quaint town, she found herself breathless from the thrill of the ride. Suddenly, her fear was replaced by excitement as adrenaline coursed through her veins. She opened her eyes and watched the stunning scene unfold.

  The wind caressed her cheeks and caused her eyes to open wider, taking in every vision. The series of small shops and brick homes turned into a blur of colors much like a painting by Vincent van Gogh. She enjoyed basking in the stunning scenery that zoomed past her eyes up until the point where he began to slow down, turning into a small, run-down apartment complex.

  The complex was definitely not pretty, to say the very least. Air conditioning units adorned each window and long, dark rust stains ran down the edges of the previously-white gutters. Small patios held multiple residents who were smoking and drinking beer. The smell of tobacco reeked through the air, burning her nostrils. Loud bass music thumped viciously, blasting from a nearby window. Dogs, disturbed by the music, barked and howled.

  Jasmine looked up at Mason, using her eyes to ask him where to go within the complex. He wrapped an arm protectively around her waist and guided her up the metal stairs that creaked with each step. Climbing up two levels and walking through a small hallway of doors, the two eventually stopped at apartment number 232. He unlocked the door and opened it, signaling for Jasmine to enter first.

  Jasmine was utterly shocked by the scene before her. She had assumed that the date would be very casual and unromantic, especially after having seen the state of the complex. However, what she found inside his clean studio apartment was the exact opposite. Rose petals scattered around the floor, leading to the large queen-sized bed. Resting on the comforter was a bouquet of fully-bloomed roses wrapped in pink tissue paper. Two plates, along with forks, napkins, and wine glasses, sat elegantly on the small table next to the kitchen. Mason strode past her and lit several candles, allowing a warm glow to spread light throughout the romantic scene.

  Tears formed in her eyes. No one before him had ever gone through the trouble to provide such a loving atmosphere for a date. Turning away, she quickly wiped away her emotions so as not to scare him away. Suddenly, a gentle caress crawled up her arm and rested on her shoulder. She melted beneath his fingertips as he turned her around and faced her directly. When she lifted her face to his, she was struck by the passion that met her gaze.

  He no longer looked at her behind the comfort of his tough, mysterious exterior. When her leaking eyes met his, she saw something she had not yet seen within him: vulnerability. His palm crept its way along her neck and rested on the side of her face, with his thumb encircling her cheekbone. Her breath quickened as he brushed his lips ever-so-slightly against hers.

  “Kiss me,” she whispered – and he did.

  Chapter Four

  It seemed like an eternity since she first locked her lips against his – a soft, warm feeling that enveloped her body like smooth velvet. Once Mason stopped to look back into Jasmine’s eyes, she realized it had only been a kiss that lasted several seconds. She yearned for the taste of his mouth again, to slip back deeper into eternity. Yet, something told her that he had other plans to elongate the evening. He pressed his lips against her forehead, which made her cheeks blush with the simple sentiment.

  “Hey, now,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “Before we get to the best part of the evening, we have to eat first, right? What kind of a gentleman would I be if I didn’t offer you dinner first?”

  “Oh?” she teased. “I didn’t realize I was in the presence of a gentleman.”

  “Oh, you definitely are not.” He quickly reached his arm around her and grabbed her bottom tight, pushing her against his body. She felt breathless. As quickly as he brought her near, he also suddenly let her go and went straight for the refrigerator. He pulled out a series of vegetables, along with knives and cutting boards, and motioned to her to begin chopping.

  Although she made a joke about being forced to cook as a guest, she felt oddly close to him in that moment. As he prepared and seasoned the protein, she chopped the onions. When she began tearing up from the strength of the onions, he made a joke about her being emotional and began playfully kissing her tears away in a frantic motion that made her giggle uncontrollably.

  “You are crazy!” she exclaimed, trying to regain her composure and begin chopping again.

  “Maybe I am.” He winked.

  The two spent the evening cooking, eating delicious food, and drinking sweet dessert wine. After dinner, Jasmine rested in his arms on the couch near the table with half a glass of wine. Suddenly, she had the burning desire to ask him a question.

  “Why did you ask me out on a date tonight?”

  He raised an eyebrow and squeezed her thigh. “Why else? I like you.”

  “I mean, why do you like me?” she asked, unsure why she cared so much. For some unknown reason, she wanted to know exactly what he saw in her. The two were so different in many ways, which meant that he had to like something in particular about her varying personality.

  She still had such trouble reading him. Unlike any man – or any person – she had ever encountered, she simply could not understand what was going on inside of his head. Jasmine suddenly felt a dizzying feeling of déjà vu as she recalled a past dating experience from a couple years ago.

  “So, Devon.” Jasmine looked up at the handsome man with dark hair and thick eyebrows. He grunted in response while he was finishing typing a text message. “Do you like me?”

  “Huh? Why would I not?” He didn’t look up at her when he asked the question, which made her purse her lips sligh
tly.

  The two had gone on several dates and, to Jasmine, it seemed appropriate to see where the relationship was headed. She liked him, but he only seemed to pay a lot of attention to her when they were actually on a date, rather than simply hanging out.

  “I don’t know,” she shrugged, waiting for a response. When he didn’t respond, she continued. “I just want to see where things are heading, you know?”

  This caused him to look up, a slightly panicked look in his eyes as he said, “Whoa, there, we just started dating. Why are we talking about this right now?”

  “No, no,” she assured, backtracking. “I’m not asking to progress. I’m only asking if you like me.”

  “Okay, but why is this even a subject yet? We’ve only been on like, one date,” he said, as if concerned that she was playing the sound of wedding bells.