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I go still, eyeing Casey with a skeptical frown until I realize he’s not bullshitting me.
“No, I did not fucking know that,” I grumble, plunking my glass down on the counter. Water splashes out the top of it, sprinkling the counter, while Casey’s eyes start to twinkle. He’s doing a shit job of hiding how much he’s enjoying this.
I narrow my gaze and mutter, “I hate you.”
He throws his head back with a barking laugh that’s loud enough to wake the house. “The look on your face right now. Damn!” He slaps me on the arm. “Dude, what a great way to start my morning.”
“By ruining mine?”
“You betcha.” He wiggles his eyebrows and gets up, walking around me to the fridge.
“Still hate you, man.”
“And I will love you forever.” He wraps his arm around me from behind and lands a sloppy kiss on my cheek before grabbing a glass and filling it to the brim with orange juice.
I can’t help a small grin as I wipe his kiss away, but my smile disappears the second Rachel enters the room. There she is, looking all beautiful again.
She’s changed into black leggings and a long sweater that reaches mid-thigh. Paired with a soft-pink scarf, she looks like a cover model about to do a winter shoot. Her long bangs hang down over her eyebrows, and she brushes them aside, her green eyes darting between me and Casey.
Shit, she’s gorgeous.
Seriously, my insides are going nuts.
Even my dick is twitching.
There’s just something about her…
And Casey sees it too.
“Hey, good-lookin’.” He gives her a charming smile. “Can I offer you some breakfast?”
I frown at his back, quickly stepping around him. “Actually, I’m taking her out for breakfast.”
Snatching Ethan’s keys off the hook—I know he won’t mind me borrowing his truck—I guide Rachel to the front door, ignoring Casey’s “Can I come too?” and gently nudging her to the coatrack.
She pulls on her jacket and boots, then grabs her handbag as I usher her out the door. I’m barefoot in my boots, but I don’t feel the cold, and I’m kinda in a hurry here. I wouldn’t put it past Casey to chase us down in nothing but his boxers, so I hustle Rachel to the truck and get the heat cranking.
Rubbing her hands together, she gives me a small smile. “I was actually going to ask if I could have a word in private, so breakfast is good.” Her seat belt clicks as she buckles up. “Where are we going?”
“Taffy’s does a mean omelet. What kind of breakfast food do you like?”
“I could go for an omelet.” She gives me a closed-mouth smile, her green eyes sparkling just a little before she turns to look out the window.
We drive to the diner in silence, and I find a parking spot near the front door. As soon as I stop the engine, I rush around to help Rachel out of the truck, but she lands easily, her long legs making the drop kind of small.
Without thinking, I take her hand and lead her to the front door.
She doesn’t pull out of my grasp until we stop at the counter and I ask for a table.
Taffy’s is one of those diners that caters to everyone from the early-morning retirees to the young moms and their babies over the lunch rush. The place is kinda old, but it’s an institution in Nolan. I’m sure the owner is like a hundred by now, but she still shuffles around the place every now and again, saying hi to her regulars. When she goes, the place will probably get handed down through the generations and run just the same to honor a lady who has taken care of so many people in this small college town.
The chipper waitress has taken our order before Rachel finally pulls in a breath, like she’s on the cusp of telling me what’s on her mind.
But nothing comes out of her open mouth, so I give her a small nudge.
“What did you want to talk to me about?” I play with the sugar packets while she straightens the salt and pepper shakers.
“Don’t tell Mick.” She swallows, keeping her eyes on the shakers. “I don’t want her to know what happened.”
