Hung Sweetheart Read online

  And that’s what I planned to rectify tonight.

  I left my car in the parking lot and headed across the street, heading toward the diner. The truck stop part was attached to The Stop on the other side of the large building, which allowed easy access to the main highway for the semis. Although this was located pretty far out from town, it was still secluded enough that you didn’t feel that suffocating sensation of bodies all around you, traffic in and out, and too many people.

  A brisk chill swept over, and I shoved my hands in my coat pockets. Although it was February, the weather was unseasonably warm, as if nature was teasing for spring to come. But I knew it wouldn’t last. Colorado winter weather—especially this far up—was blistering and sometimes unforgiving. It could tear your skin off with a gentle breeze if it wanted.

  A few big rigs pulled in off to the side, but I was focused on the front door, my heart starting to beat a little harder the closer I got. I pulled one of the two doors open, the entrance leading into the convenient store that was attached to The Stop.

  To my left were snacks, a small coffee shop, the cash register, and a hallway that lead off to pay by the hour showers for the truckers. And to the right was the entrance of the little diner, the scent of food coming from the kitchen stretching out of the diner and wafting into the convenient store.

  I headed in, the sign before the entrance telling me to seat myself. But before I took another step, I looked around, searching for Pepper, needing to see her. And when I spotted her coming out of the kitchen with a tray balanced in hand, plates of steaming food on top, I felt my entire body tighten, and awareness bit me like a bolt of electricity.

  She was so small, tiny really, not just in comparison to my size, but just in general. She couldn’t be more than five-foot two, her body lithe, willowy, yet she had curves, with slightly flared hips and a tucked-in waist.

  I let my eyes land on her chest, staring at the perfect handful-sized mounds of her breasts as they pressed against the light-blue material of her uniform. God, if anybody could make polyester look sexy, it was Pepper.

  For a moment, I just watched her deliver the plates of food before she’d flit like a little hummingbird to another table, the smile on her face brilliant, but I could tell it was forced. It was in the way her eyes didn’t really hold light. The fact that she was putting on an act told me the truth, and I hated that.

  I’d make her smile, a real, true, and genuine one. It would reach her eyes, and it would, because she felt wholly comfortable with me.

  I’d make that my—our—reality.

  I figured out which section was hers and made my way to one of the empty tables, sitting down in the booth, the vinyl underneath cracking slightly from my weight and with age. There was a small wire rack pushed to one end of the table, a few menus placed inside.

  I grabbed one, and although I knew what I already wanted, I went through the motions to keep myself busy.

  I placed the laminated piece of paper in front of me and placed my hands on my lap, curling my fingers into my palms as I squeezed them into tight fists.

  Every second I sat there waiting for her to come to the table had my heart beating a little bit harder, a little bit faster. And then she was there, standing right beside me, her tiny body smelling sweet, her breathing picking up. I looked up into her eyes, ones that were so blue they had a flush of desire pounding through my bloodstream.

  I could see her cheeks were tinted pink, and the longer I held her stare, the more I felt her bashfulness pour out of her. It was... intoxicating.

  “Evening, Pepper,” I said low and deep, unable to stop the raspy quality to my voice. She pulled out the most alpha male part of me whenever she was near.

  She glanced away, down at the pad and pencil she held, and murmured, “Evening, Sloan.” Her voice caused my body to settle in ways I never knew were imaginable.

  God, just hearing her say my name had awareness slamming into me. My cock hardened, the need to pull her in close and kiss her riding me hard. We made these introductions every time I came in, but she’d never know how much I enjoyed them, how intimate I found these innocent exchanges.

  “What can I get you?”

  I had to clear my throat and shift on the seat to ease the ache that settled in my groin, because hearing her say that had all kinds of filthy fucking things slamming into my head.

  What can you get me? How about letting me pull you onto my lap and kiss you until you’re clutching me. What else can you get me? How about being mine in every single way?

  I must have been staring at her for far longer than was comfortable, because her cheeks turned redder, that blush spreading to her neck.

  I looked down at the menu and rattled off what I wanted. It was always the same, yet in that moment, it felt like I was answering the hardest fucking question.

  Cheeseburger. Fries. Iced tea.

  I looked up at her, just wanting to blurt out everything right then and there, but I could tell she was nervous, her hands curled around that pad, the tips of her fingers white from the force.

  I cleared my throat again. “How are you today?” I finally asked, noticing her cheeks turned even pinker.

  Hell, she was so pretty, and seeing her blush because of what I said made her even more beautiful.

  “Good, thank you.” She gave me this timid little smile, and it had male pride filling me at the fact that I could tell it was genuine, because it actually reached her eyes. “I’ll just go put your order in.”

  She was gone before I could say anything else, and I watched her the whole time, unable to tear my gaze from her. The table across the way but still in her section held three rowdy and obnoxious truck drivers. Their voices filled the entire diner, as if they were saying “fuck you; we don’t care about being courteous to anyone else.”

  I scowled in their direction but put them in the back of my mind. I had more important things to think about.

  Don’t fuck this up, Sloan. Don’t fuck this up, because this could be the moment you finally get everything you’ve ever wanted.

  This was the moment I might finally get the girl of my dreams and the woman I was hopelessly in love with.

  4

  PEPPER

  I felt Sloan watching me… and it made me feel so on edge, so aroused, that trying to focus on doing my job was damn near impossible.

  “Hey, sweetcheeks, we need some service.”

  I looked over at the table with three burly truckers. They’d been so loud for the last hour, so obnoxious that I’d gotten complaints from other customers. But there wasn't much I could do. We didn’t have security at the diner, and besides, them being loud wasn’t exactly breaking any laws.

  I straightened my spine and exhaled, my feet already aching, my lower back cursing me out, but I headed over there with that fake smile on my face that was second nature to me. “What can I get for you?”

  The one who seemed like the leader of this pack grinned up for me. He flashed a gold tooth on the side of his mouth before not even hiding he was currently checking me out. Although I had tough skin around this kind of shit, it didn’t mean I couldn't feel the sticky disgust pouring over me.

  “How about some dessert?” He gave me a wink, his buddies laughing because he most definitely wasn’t asking for something on the menu. He leaned forward, that gross grin still in place, and reached his hand out. I knew he was going to try to touch me, maybe the edge of my apron, but probably the edge of my uniform dress. I went to take a step back and felt hard muscles stop me. The air left me as I looked over my shoulder and tipped my head up... and up and up until I was looking into Sloan’s face.

  His expression was stoic, but I could feel the seething rage in his eyes as he stared at the trucker who’d been hitting on me.

  “Keep your hands to yourself,” Sloan said slowly, low, the vibrations from his deep voice spearing through my back and into my chest.

  I still stared up at him, my lips parted, the scent of him surrounding m
e. And when I felt his hands come up to rest on my shoulders, his fingers lightly curling against me, a shot of pure awareness slammed into my core. The air left me on a woosh, and I faced forward, looking at the three men all staring at Sloan as if he’d grown a second head. Maybe they weren’t used to being put in their place, but I could feel the confidence and lack of fear coming from Sloan. He still had his hands on my shoulders.

  “And who the hell do you think you are, telling me what to do?” The burly trucker leaned back in the booth and crossed his arms over his chest. His belly hung over his pants, but the obnoxiously large silver belt buckle could still be seen.

  “I’m the guy who’ll kick your ass if you don’t keep your damn hands to yourself.”

  The air grew thick and tense, and I saw the way the trucker narrowed his eyes. His buddies shifted in the booth, no doubt feeling that tension as well, or maybe they didn't know how to take someone going up against their friend. Either way, I knew this would get out of control if things weren’t diffused.

  “Is that right?” the trucker prompted with a sneer in his voice.

  “I may not be able to take on all three of you at the same time, but you better believe I’ll do some fucking damage before it’s all said and done.”

  Even though I faced forward, I could feel Sloan and this trucker staring at each other with barely restrained aggression. It was as if the trucker didn’t want to be the first to submit, probably never having done that in his life. Sloan gave my shoulders another squeeze, a silent reassurance that he was here and not leaving. And I felt myself lean back against him. He was so big, so muscular. My head came up to his pectoral muscles, letting me know how small and feminine I really was compared to him.

  “Thank you, Sloan, but it’s okay. They were just leaving,” I said with a hardness in my voice, one I learned to master working around people who thought they had power over others they deemed weaker.

  Finally, as if the air had been popped out of a balloon, the burly guy nodded once. “Didn’t know she was taken.” He grabbed his wallet, tossed some bills on the table, then nodded for his two buddies to follow. I stood there watching them leave, and only when they were gone did I exhaled slowly.

  I turned then, taking a step back so I could look into Sloan’s face without having to crane my head so far. “Thank you,” I said softly. Although I could have handled them—albeit I knew it would have been a fight on my end to put them in their place—a part of me felt pleasure that Sloan had stood up for me. And I’d known—felt—that he wouldn’t have backed down.

  He didn’t say anything right away, just stood there watching me, making me feel bare and exposed, so on edge I started twisting the edge of my apron in my fingers.

  “I couldn’t have stood there and let him talk to you like that.” He took a step closer, his focus still on me. “And letting him touch you…” He slowly shaking his head. “No fucking way.” The growl in his voice had goose bumps popping out along my arms and legs.

  I licked my lips and glanced around, seeing that although a few people glanced at us curiously, the diner was pretty much quiet and dead. I looked at Sloan again, surprised I was about to say what I was. “Want to sit and talk while I take my dinner break?”

  I saw the way his nostrils flared slightly, heard the sharp inhale of breath he took.

  He looked so damn pleased with my question.

  “Exactly how I’d like to end my night, Pepper.”

  And just like that, I felt a smile spread across my face. The tension left me, and something pulled me even closer and harder to Sloan.

  And I welcomed it.

  5

  SLOAN

  For the last hour, I’d been so mesmerized with Pepper that I knew I probably looked like a fucking sap. And I didn't care. I leaned back in the booth and smiled as she told me a story from her childhood, how she’d been trying to make an apple pie for the first time when she was thirteen but ended up burning the damn thing until it was black.

  I started chuckling and reached out for my iced tea, taking a long drink, keeping my eyes trained on her. The conversation hadn’t been pleasant the entire time. She opened up to me, which had pleased but surprised me. She told me about her father, how he drove a semi, how he was rarely around. I heard that detachment in her voice, sensing the loneliness that came from her as she said she pretty much had to raise herself.

  I loved hearing about her interior design goal, how she was so damn determined to make a name for herself and work hard all on her own. I fell in love with her even more listening to her, mesmerized by her voice and confidence, by the way she was smart and independent, that although she did feel darkness because of her loneliness growing up, she was strong and didn’t let it take her under either.

  She was my soul mate. She’s mine.

  I opened up too—for the first time in my life, in fact. Telling her about my father getting sick, his short illness swift and taking him from me almost enough to break me. I told Pepper how I worked my ass off to stay afloat, to not let my emotions take me under. I poured my heart into the hardware store, and doing so had brought me to her… although I kept the latter to myself.

  I finally felt closer to her, but I still wanted more.

  I wanted all of her.

  “I should probably get back to work.” She stood, taking her plate she had with her dinner on it, and smiled at me. “Thanks for… everything. Standing up for me, and for talking with me so I didn’t have to eat alone.” She stood there a moment, looking down at me, nibbling on that lush bottom lip of hers that nearly had me groaning.

  “Let me take you home, Pepper.” The words came out before I could stop them. I didn't bother telling her I watched her all this time and knew she didn't have a car.

  She was silent, and I worried I offended her, presuming she felt as close to me as I did to her.

  “I know you’re an independent woman, but it’s not safe, and I’d be worried about you.” Obsessively. She started worrying her bottom lip again with her straight, white teeth, and I knew I crossed a line.

  Who the hell did I think I was to offer her a ride? She didn’t know me, not really. I opened my mouth to apologize, to excuse myself and leave, but I’d follow her home, making sure she got there okay, that no one fucked with her.

  “Actually,” she said, and I froze, holding my breath, “I’d like a ride home.” She gave me the prettiest smile, and I felt my heart jump in my throat. “I don’t have a car, and I hate walking home, even if it’s close enough.”

  My breath hitched, and something deep in me swelled with male pride. I could be the one to take care of her.

  “I’d really like that, Sloan.”

  6

  PEPPER

  I was nervous, but more than that, I felt like Sloan's care was exactly how this night was supposed to end.

  I’d also be lying if I didn’t admit—even if just to myself—that I was excited about the fact that I was sitting right beside the man I’d been lusting after for far too long.

  When he offered to take me home, maybe I should have said no thanks. Maybe I should have “played hard to get,” since it was clear he’d been holding his breath, waiting for my answer. But for a better part of a year, I had seen him, watched him sit alone at a table in my section—always my section—and learned about who he was on the outside.

  The strong, silent type.

  Friendly. A generous tipper. But always alone.

  He always acted like he wanted to say more to me than he did, but it was like he held back. I wished he would have talked to me all night long. I wished this night would have happened before now.

  On the other hand, maybe others would say how foolish I was, that taking a ride home from a virtual stranger was stupid, hazardous. But as I looked at him, I didn’t feel like this was wrong. I felt like it was right on every single level.

  The lights from the dashboard cast a glow over his masculine face. He was so big, not just compared to my average stature, b
ut in general. Easily six and a half feet, although I might have been lowballing it. And his muscles were impressive, thick and defined—a masculine body that screamed male. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, those short strands hanging over his forehead as if he’d been running his fingers through them in a frustrated—so sexy—manner. I could see the five o’clock shadow covering his cheeks and jaw, seeming a little darker because of the shadows in the car.

  I let my eyes stray to his lips. God, he had a kissable mouth, one that had me thinking all kinds of dirty things, which had me blushing and looking away quickly. I didn’t know the first thing about how to go after a guy, how to seduce him or show him how much I wanted him.

  I looked out the passenger window, swallowing past my suddenly dry throat.

  What I wanted was to tell him not to take me home, that I wanted to stay with him, be with him. Of course, that was crossing lines. I might have “known” him for the last year, seen him in that time, spent some time with him on a friendly level, but it certainly hadn’t been in a personal, intimate manner, not to the point where I could actually be so bold.

  No, I can’t. I won’t. It might ruin things… whatever these things are that I feel growing between us.

  My heart was thundering so hard it felt like it would burst through my chest. Could he hear it? Could he see the way I shifted on the seat constantly, trying to ease this ache that was deep in my body, one I knew only he could sate?

  I was scared, twisting my hands together in my lap, my nervousness over what I wanted to tell him—how I wanted him—messing with me and making me feel like I had no control. And that wasn’t something I wanted. I’d always been so level, so in control of my emotions and the things around me. I had to in order to make it in the world. I had to in order to survive.

  I saw the way he watched me, the way his eyes tracked me at the diner. I felt his arousal, his desire for me, especially tonight. There was no denying it, so I was pretty sure if I bared my heart to Sloan, he’d reciprocate. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t terrified. I was so scared of rejection, that I’d be turned away, humiliated. I was so much younger than him. I was inexperienced, had nothing, no family, really no friends. I was no one to him. Right?