Chapter 2

Dylan

T he dinner rush is starting to die down when Loren comes back into the kitchen with a huff, making my brow lift at the waitress who has never shown a single ounce of frustration in the four year's she's worked for me. She's become my second in charge of the house whenever the front manager isn't here so her being annoyed has my back up instantly.

"Everything okay, Loren?" I ask her, sliding the plate I just finished onto the shelf for the staff to grab for table eleven.

"Sorry, just needed to get away from all the stupidity out there for a minute," she answers, and I lift my brow higher her way. "I got a customer that's been looking over the menu for like forty minutes and still can't decide what to get, and as if that wasn't enough, it seems every single guy from the bar has been coming over to hit on her. It's not that she's taking up one of my seats, it's just making it impossible to get other orders served when the person they're for aren't there but over hitting on her."

"She some model or something?" Tim pipes up asking from the back counter where he's chopping up more vegetable for our coming orders.

"I don't think so. Not with that pink hair," Loren answers and my brow lifts a bit higher hearing that. Most of our clientele are pretty down to earth. They don't go in for crazy hair styles or colors. We get the occasional one in here since we are a tourist town, but my restaurant isn't on the main drag, here for the regulars of town rather than them. "I don't know, she seems a bit odd. I can't tell if she's turning everyone down because she's trying to find someone with more money, or because she just has no interest in them. I mean, the few times that I've actually seen one of them approach her has been a bit entertaining. This last one she actually sighed in annoyance towards when she had to look up from the menu again."

"Where is she?" I ask, curious now because I might not have opened it to rival the premiere restaurants in New York or LA, but around here, we're one of the better ones for certain.

The menu is extensive, with price ranges to satisfy those in town with the most money even, while still being affordable for those who are lower middle class. Hell, we do a Happy Hour that discounts stuff as well, which brings in even more people that might not have come without them. The discounts don't bite into my bottom line either. Not when we sell enough to make up for the discount.

"Table seventeen," Loren tells me, and I slip over to the door, pushing it open slightly to get a glimpse of the woman.

A tingle starts at the base of my spine when my eyes land on the most gorgeous swath of pink and white waves, flowing up my body, wrapping fully around my chest, settling in my heart when her head lifts, letting me see her perfectly gorgeous face. It's the sweetest oval shape with big, fluffy lips that I want to taste more than anything I've ever created. Her pink waves remind me of the morning sunrise with the varying shades. It starts out more peachy pink then becomes a truer baby pink, and I picture my hand wrapped in it, pulling her head back while I claim those luscious lips with a hard kiss as I fuck deep into her sweetness from behind.

My cock which has been completely silent for the last ten years wakes hard and fast and I have to fight to stop the growl that works it's way up my throat seeing another man approach her. The deepest, darkest possessiveness floods me and my hand grips the door tight to keep my feet rooted in place.

My anger stops when my girl's sweet face tips up towards the man, an almost grimace of a polite smile on her lips when she sees him. They're too far away for me to be able to hear what she says, but I know already she's telling him no, which soothes my ire. At least until he leans down, one hand on the back of her chair, the other on the table, and my feet instantly begin to move me towards them.

"I'm sorry, I'm not interested," I hear her say to the man as I watch her lean away from him as much as she can with the wall at her side.

My hand grabs hold of the man's shoulder, pulling him backwards, and a bit of surprise hits when I realize I know the guy. "Get lost, John, before I tell your wife that you were hitting on someone else."

"Just offering to show this lovely visitor around town, that's it," John lies, and my eyes glower at him as I tighten my hold on his shoulder to keep him from looking back at my girl.

"She doesn't need your offers. She's not here visiting, are you, angel?" I add, glancing towards her. Fuck me —her eyes are the sweetest turquoise dream that make me want to drown in her even more.

"No," she says, giving me a smile, a real smile and I'm so fucking done with it's not funny.

I've avoided women for the last fifteen years, not wanting to deal with them once my first restaurant hit it big. That's when I was living in New York. A phenom at twenty-three.

I hated all of the attention and ended up selling the restaurant, giving me enough money to move on, start over without worry, and since then, I've been making my way down the east coast, opening and selling restaurants until I finally landed here about eight years ago. Something about the place just felt like home and I opened my place.

I met Duncan soon after I joined the town's Small Business Owner Association. He's around my age, a couple years younger, but he'd already been here for two years, running his own landscaping business along with his greenhouse. A year later, Dane moved to town and opened his coffee shop. He also roasts his own specialty blends that sell well.

The two of them are my best friends and we get together whenever we can to grab a beer and catch up. We don't have a lot of time to do it with our businesses but it's usually amusing when we do go out, especially when we run into other members of the association because even after seven years of us each having our own place, most of them still get us mixed up.

I suppose that's bound to happen though when all of us have names that start with D, are within two years in age of each other—me being the oldest and Duncan the youngest with Dane just between us—and then all being about six-foot-four and built sturdily. Duncan has the most muscle of all of us thanks to his job, but both Dane and I enjoy hitting the gym when we have the time.

None of us have dated since we've been here and I wouldn't be surprised to learn that like me, the two of them haven't ever touched a woman sexually—or a man for that matter. I was too busy when I was in my early twenties with getting my restaurant up and running, and when it became a hit, all the women wanted was my money and it kept me far from them. I don't really know Duncan or Dane's reason that they don't date. It wasn't something we cared to discuss beyond not needing the others to play wingman when we were out because women weren't our priority.

Now, that sure as hell isn't true any longer, because this woman—this girl—is mine. I know it as deeply as I knew that this was meant to be home when I got here, and I won't stop until she's mine in every way.

"You're with him ?" John asks, looking between us, and I don't bother hiding my smirk when it seems that my girl can't take her eyes off me the way I couldn't take mine off her earlier.

"Yes," she says without a pause bringing a grumble to John's lips, but I ignore it as I move closer to my girl, taking John's spot when he leaves. "Thank you…I…"

"Weren't interested in being hit on by some jackass that already has a wife?" I state, lifting a brow at her as she smiles softly up at me.

"Not in any of them," she whispers, her eyelids closing cutting off her gorgeous gaze from me and I hate it. I want her eyes on me all the time.

"Eyes, angel," I demand, my chest puffing up when her face lifts back my way instantly, her eyes opening as a little shiver slips through her. "That's a good girl."

A little breathless gasp falls from her lips, her fingers tightening on the menu in her hand, and I reach over, taking it from her with a smile. "Do you know what you want, angel?"

"Mmm," she whimpers, and holy shit do I want to hear her make that sounds while I fuck her into oblivion. There's something so sweet about her little noises and it just makes me want more of them, but just for my ears.

"Can't decide or too many interruptions?" I ask her, brushing her hair away from her shoulder, taking in the soft, delicate skin shown off by the little spaghetti strapped top.

"Both," she answers me. "It all looks so good, I just don't know what to try."

"Leave that to me then," I suggest, making her brow rise a bit and I'm amazed that even they are a pinkish brown color, but I love how bright she is. It seems to radiate from her, completely different from the black of my chef's jacket and the deep blues and browns of the restaurant. She's a beam of brilliance pulling me directly towards her and I don't ever want it to stop. "What's your favorite food?"

"Pancakes," she says instantly, a little color hitting her cheeks when I chuckle, but there was no doubt in my mind that my girl loves sweet things. It fits far too well with as bright and colorful as she is. "But there's so many new things that sound good on the menu that I want to try too."

That surprises me because most of the menu are things you'd find anywhere. Sure, I have some dishes that are my own creation, and we definitely have seafood options that most places don't offer because they can't get fresh seafood as easily as we do, but the way my girl says it, makes it seem like everything is new to her. "Like what?"

"The chicken caesar salad, lobster mac ‘n cheese, steak medallions, oh baked potato…" she says her eyes glittering brightly and fucking hell, I want to drag her to the floor and ravish her, but I also want to feed her until she can't eat another bite to make her happy.

"You've never had a baked potato?" I ask as the curiosity gets to be too much and a hint of color hits her cheeks again making me curse.

"We didn't have a lot of food options where I come from," she says, her eyes lowering from mine, and I can't stop the growl that slips out not having them on me.

"Eyes, angel," I demand without meaning to, but a little shiver slips through her that goes straight to my dick. I've moved around enough to know that some areas don't have a ton of food options, but I can't imagine a place that doesn't have baked potatoes. Hell, even the Amish have potato recipes so I can't imagine they wouldn't have baked potatoes. It makes me even more curious about my girl because she doesn't look that young but now with the questions running through me, I have to know. "How old are you, sweetness?"

"Twenty-one, my birthday was yesterday," she adds when my brow lifts a hint at that news. Fuck, she's seventeen years younger than me, but instead of stopping my interest, it only makes it deepen. "My best friends and I came to town for a week to celebrate our birthdays."

"They're close together?" I ask loving the smile that settles onto her lips, but I don't like the news that she's only here for a week. I'll have to convince her to stay longer because there's no way I'll be able to let her go—ever—let alone in a week.

"The same day actually," she says with a little laugh that hits me simultaneously in the heart and the balls, making my cock angry that we're not buried deep inside her now that he's awakened and hungry for what only this girl can give us. "It bonded us, made us close."

"Yet you're here on your own right now?" I state, needing to know how much time I have to convince her to ditch them and stay with me.

"Well, Serenia and Celestia met guys earlier today that they wanted to get to know. So I've been walking around just checking things out for a bit on my own. I was getting tired and hungry and saw this place, so I decided to get something to eat. I'm not sure what they'll be doing the rest of the night. If we're going to meet back up or not…"

"I don't like the idea of you being on your own all night, angel. Especially not if you're in some of the motels around here. Where are you staying?" I ask, a bit annoyed with her friends for leaving her alone, but also thankful that she's here with me by herself now.

"Umm…we didn't have any specific plans," she says and that hits me hard in the gut. My girl, my gorgeous, na?ve girl doesn't have anywhere to stay tonight. In a tourist town. In peak season.

"You didn't make reservations before coming to town?" I ask and her brows furl a bit my way.

"Make what?" she returns, and a low rumble slips out of me at just how na?ve she really must be, and how easily it would have been for a man to take her before I found her.

"Reservations, they hold a room at a hotel, or a table at a restaurant so you're guaranteed to have somewhere to sleep that night or somewhere to eat at the time you want," I explain watching her eyes widen in shock at the news before she glances around the space worriedly. "We do take reservations, but we also accept walk-ins here, so you don't have to worry about that, angel. But hotels fill up fast around here during the summer, sweetness. Finding an open room won't be easy and while it might be warm out during the days, town does get a little chilly when the wind comes in off the water and you're definitely not dressed for camping."

"What's that?" she asks, and I swear to god, I'd love five minutes with whoever the hell raised her, let her come out here knowing nothing, putting her in all sorts of danger from unscrupulous men and especially from the ones that are true monsters. Her friends leaving her on her own could have resulted in her being grabbed, sold off to some bastard that won't treasure her every moment of every day—unlike me.

"Camping? It's when you sleep outdoors, it can be in a tent or camper, or just out under the stars. A lot of people try to do it on the beach to not spend money, but the police will run them off because it's not allowed without a permit, and they only give out those for specific parts of the beach."

"Oh…"

"Your family didn't help you make a plan for coming out here?" I ask letting my thumb rub along her neck as I slip a hand behind it, needing to hold her, make sure she was truly here and real because somehow, she feels like a dream.

"Umm…they don't know we left. They wouldn't have liked it, but we wanted to get away, see what the rest of the world was like, and celebrate our birthday," my angel says, and I nod, disliking wherever she came from even more. Her stomach lets out a little rumble though and she blushes nearly as pink as her hair and the need to feed her floods me.

"Let me get you something to eat and then you can come home with me. I'll keep you safe and if your friends call, need somewhere to stay tonight too, you can invite them over," I add, hoping whoever they met today weren't monsters or that at least her friends are able to get away from them if they were the unscrupulous sort.

"Okay," she states a bit too easily and if it were anyone but me she was saying it to, I'd be pissed, but right now, all I want is to take care of her and keep her safe until she's in my house and in my arms.

"I'll be back in a few minutes," I assure her, forcing myself away from her and I slip back into the kitchen despite my body's desire to stay next to her. The need to take care of her overrides the desire coursing through my veins, letting me grab ingredients to make her a little tasting board of all of the things she mentioned and some I think she might enjoy just as much.

"Don't tell me the boss finally took notice of woman," Malik says pulling my attention towards the others in the kitchen who were all watching me, and I let out a grumble of warning.

"Get back to work before I fire all of you."

"Seriously boss, what the hell was that?" Loren asks as she loads a tray with food for one of her tables. "I mean, you never pay attention to any of the women that come after you when they learn you own this place or have money so…"

"She doesn't have a clue who I am," I state, fighting to stop the smile that news creates within me. No way does she know that if she didn't know what camping or reservations were. "She's in town with some girlfriends from home. Honestly, from what she said, I think she grew up in some cult or with some religious group that wouldn't let them learn about the real world. She wants to experience a bit of life but on her terms."

"Uh huh…and you're just going to oblige her?" Loren questions with a laugh when I shrug. "If I knew you liked them na?ve I could definitely have set you up before now with some of the ones I've met who turned out to not be into girls."

"They wouldn't have been her," I muse before grabbing some batter to make her a dessert style crepe. If my girl loves pancakes, she'll likely enjoy it. At least I hope she does because cooking for her, makes me enjoy cooking in a way I haven't in a long time, and I want to do it for the rest of my life.

I load up a tray with all of the items then take it out to my angel, realizing I never asked her her name. A growl slips out of my throat seeing another man trying to talk to her and I slip the tray onto the table, before giving the man a glare when he turns my way.

" Get. Lost ," I warn him, shooting him the darkest, iciest look that I'm glad to see matches the one in my girl's eyes as she looks at him. "You okay, angel?" I add when he gives in and walks back into the bar section of the restaurant, leaving me alone with my girl once more.

"I am now," she says, smiling sweetly at me and fuck, if I didn't want her to try everything I made her right now, I'd be throwing her over my shoulder and taking her home with me this instant.

"Good, I'm Dylan, by the way," I add, slipping onto the tall barstool of the high-top table she's sitting at, after bringing it closer to her side.

"Melodia," she replies softly and shit, her name is as sweet and perfect as she is, but with her friends' names, I'm definitely getting more cult and religious vibes. I really hope I can convince her to stay and not go back to it because I don't think I'll survive without her.

"Beautiful like my angel," I tease before moving the tray so it's fully on the table, bringing her gaze down to the items there. The way they widen in delight and surprise fills me with warmth and I grab the forks before spearing a steak medallion and offering it to her. "This one's the steak. It's brandied in a peppercorn cream sauce that gives it a hint of spice."

Those pillowy lips wrap around the fork I hold, and it makes my dick twitch, wishing they were wrapped around it, especially when she lets out a moan with her eyes holding mine. It takes everything within me to stop from tackling her to the ground and fucking her right here as I finish feeding her the samples of all of the different items.

If we were the only ones here. If I knew no other man would see her sweet little body bare, I'd do it, not giving a damn that someone watched.

"And this one," I tell her, cutting into the crepe with the cream cheese filling, "is a dessert crepe. You're not allergic to strawberries are you?" I add when she hesitates as her eyes flicker to it.

"No, I just…"

"What angel?" I ask loving the pink that hits her cheeks every time I call her that over her name now.

"What's a dessert?" she asks in return and a rush of fury floods me to know that she doesn't know what a dessert is. I try to calm myself as I take a deep breath. Maybe they simply called them something different? Like desserts also being called pudding in England.

"It's a sweets course, or treat, at the end of a meal," I tell her, and the little grin that hits her face gives me that warm feeling all throughout me once more. "This one has strawberries and a cream cheese filling, with a chocolate sauce on top," I add, offering her the bite and the moan that comes from her when she eats it, has spurts of cum leaking from my cock.

"Oh gods…Dylan, that's so good," she sighs, smiling fully as I offer her another bite.

"Better than pancakes?" I tease, laughing when it seems to create a serious debate inside her mind. "Or how about just as good?"

"Definitely just as good," she agrees when she finishes the last bite of it and I lift my thumb to her lip, taking away the bit of chocolate that clung to her naturally pink lips, and I suck it off getting my first hint of her taste. If I could bottle it, I know I'd be the richest man alive, and I can't wait to discover all of her tastes. Hopefully very soon—very, very soon.