Craig halted with his steps and stared at her face. His eyes squinting while his gaze fixed on her lips. Rachel got conscious a little bit and averted her eyes on him. “Anyways, did you use some lip plumper on?” He voiced out his perplexity, still looking at her lips with befuddlement. “What’s a lip plumper...?” Rachel didn’t get it at first. She touches her lips and then realizes what he is talking about. Her cheeks are even more flushed as she recalls the events that led up to it all, “Oh, that’s right. Yes. Curiosity got the better of me, so I tried some on.” She quickly reasoned out, urging her feet to continue walking, and dipped her head, making her hair blocks the view of her flushed face. ‘Damn that wolf!’ She internally muttered, cursing on Dylan’s name for doing it to her. “It suits you, but your natural lips look better,” Craig commented, matching up with her steps and sweeping her hair off her face, and tucking it behind her ears. “Do you ever run out of compliments?
Rachel blinked, averting her gaze away from her, and pretended as if she didn’t see what she did, then putting on an innocent expression, asking the woman, “What is it, ma’am?” “I want you to clear my table when I get out.” She replied, taking the table napkin and putting it in her lap graciously. Rachel knows why she wants her to clean her table. She deliberately put the money under the plate for her to take it undetected. She chewed her lower lip as she pondered for a moment. She remembered what Martin had said to her about morals and a code of conduct during the decorum, and that he had specifically instructed her not to accept tips from customers. If she is ever caught, it will put her job in jeopardy, and her track record will not be as clean as she would have liked it to be. “Ma’am...” She was about to decline, gripping the metal tray she held tightly, but the woman held up her index finger, cutting her off. “Now, young lady, please understand that I am insistent.” “Alright
The exhausting day went through. From the opening shift, Martin asked Rachel to extend and take overtime, both Craig and her. She couldn't say no since she would receive night differentials to compensate for it, even though she was already exhausted from running back and forth to the kitchen and bringing the customers' orders to their table. She thought she could go home early and reminded herself to buy a padlock to replace the broken one using the tip given to her. Unfortunately, Martin called for her last minute when she was about to punch out in her daily time record. After Helen finished with her orders, Rachel made sure that she would be the one to clean up her table. Though she hasn't expected that she will give her a hundred-dollar tip. She kept her surprised expression to herself and pretended that she was wiping the crumbs off the table. She cupped her hand at the edge of the table and swept the rag across the table before taking the money and slipping it between her finge
Alerted by her scream, Craig turns around. His face turned from worry to annoyance when he saw the man standing behind her. A pair of large hands clamped down on her shoulders. He rubs the side of her neck with his thumbs slowly, raising the tiny hairs on her body and releasing the countless butterflies that have taken up residence on her lower belly. A sharp intake and exhales of hot breath breathe blowing at the top of her head. Dissipating the rush of cold air around them and the palpable burgeoning tension thickens the atmosphere. “Move away from her,” Craig demanded. His brows knitted closer to each other as he stepped forward. Challenging the other man with his stare. “What did I tell you, boy? Didn’t I clearly say to stay away from her?” Rachel’s back vibrated with his dangerous voice, threatening. Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at Craig with a terrified expression. Not for herself but of what might he do to him. “Craig, please, go.” She uttered, her voice alm
However, as much as how many times she denies it. She definitely felt the pull he was so adamant about, and there’s no way that could ignore it. She “Rachie?” Dylan’s voice broke her out of trance. She blinked at him three times and pulled her hands away from him as if his touch was burning her. “I can manage to go on by myself.” She declared defiantly, her chin jutted in the air and her head tilted to one side to hide the spreading shade of pink on her cheeks. Rachel just hoped that there wasn’t enough light for him to see her face flushed. “Don't be ridiculous.” Dylan snickered, his brows furrowed in disapproval with her statement, “It’s dangerous for you to walk alone.” “I wouldn’t have to walk on my own if you didn’t threaten Craig.” She countered, her arms akimbo to her waist, and bit the inner side of her cheeks to keep herself from ogling over him. Like, how can she not? He’s damn hot with his baby blue polo with three of his buttons undone, teasing her with the curls of t
Rachel watches Dylan standing in faze outside his car, head lifted upwards. Her hand caressed over the flower petals wrapped with fancy paper and ribbon. She fought the smile that was threatening to spread it on her lips, and moved her gaze down to the flower arrangement she was cradling on her lap. It was beautiful. Dylan’s crestfallen reaction over what she said being an asshole was priceless. She could sit and watch it for the rest of the night. The way his mouth gaped astonishingly wide in response to her remarks, and the way his piercing glare penetrated beyond his car's window, was hilarious. After seeing that Dylan had already recovered from a daze, Rachel straightened her back on the passenger’s seat, clearing her face from any emotion and closed her eyes, and leaned on the window, pretending asleep as Dylan pulled the car door open. The car dipped a little as he climbed onto his seat, followed by a soft thud reverberating between them as he closed the door shut and fumbled
Caught by surprise, Rachel dropped the bouquet from her hands as Dylan wrapped his around her body as he pressed his back on the door, listening to anything strange, and readied himself if someone would suddenly come and attack them. Rachel tries to pull away from him and take his hands off from covering her mouth, glaring at him with confusion. “What...”“Keep your tone down.” Dylan silences her off. He could sense her fear began to emanate from her. Dylan could feel the loud pounding of her heart against his body. “What happened? Is something wrong?” She murmured ina very low tone, almost inaudible to his ears, complying with what he just instructed. He didn’t answer right away. He tilted his head closer to the door, pressing his ear on the hard surface. Waiting for the ominous feeling inside him to abate until it was finally gone. His wolf huffed, confirming that the presence was no longer there. Dylan let out a long sigh, shaking the feeling of foreboding away. “Nothing.” Ju
Realizing that he had stocked groceries for her, Dylan went to open the fridge, his thumb and index finger pinching his chin as he scanned its content and deliberated what he would have for a meal and cook for something for Rachel as well. That woman might be hungry as a pen-up lioness who hadn’t eaten for days. He saw her cook steak the other night and ate it with gusto. Dylan contemplated for a bit, reminiscing the aroma of the delicacy wafting in the air. He wasn’t a chef, but he could cook. He didn’t just live for hundreds of years for nothing. Knowing precisely what he needed to do, Dylan pulled out the ingredients of the meal he decided to cook and began preparing them. Not wanting to soil his shirt, he took it off and hung it on the rack, taking the black and yellow apron with cartoon characters printed on it in exchange and laced them on himself. He worked around her kitchen effectively, guaranteeing he hadn't left whatever would make the spot look grimy. Might as well he c