Page 16 of Matchmaking On The Menu

I shrug slowly. “Back to that obligations thing.”

He smiles. “Yeah.”

There’s a beat when neither of us speak, but it’s not uncomfortable. Then he breaks the silence.

“Aren’t waitresses supposed to introduce themselves before taking your order?”

Shit! Crap! I really am off my game today. “You caught me. My name’s Dannica.”

“Nice to meet you, Dannica.” I wait for him to give me his name, but he doesn’t.

“Shouldn’t you return the favor?”

“Next time?”

“Hmmm, unfair, but I get it.”

And I do. Loads of people slide through here, wishing to keep to themselves. It’s part of our appeal.

“Try your burger before it gets cold.”

He lifts the burger with long, lean fingers and takes a bite. Closing his eyes, he tips his head back and lets out a low, satisfied groan.

Oh.

Oh.

Okay.

That should be illegal. Very, very illegal.

I clear my throat. I need to think of something to say that is not as wildly inappropriate as spank me.

“You’re not from around here,” I blurt.

So much for subtle. Shit. I hope he can’t hear how breathless I suddenly sound.

“What gave me away?”

“You mentioned that obligations don’t only happen in small towns, so I figure wherever you’re from must be big enough to have traffic. And you didn’t immediately complain about the weather or ask if I know your cousin.”

“My parents were both only children.”

Huh? It takes me a while to realize he’s answering the cousin statement. Right. Back to business. Very good. I need the distraction.

“So, what brings you to town, Mystery Man?”

He dabs his mouth with a napkin. “Curiosity.”

That’s either intriguing or deeply unhelpful. I go with unhelpful.

“That’s vague.” I guess I am pushing.

“I like small towns,” he says. “Every place has a story.”

“Oh?” I lean against the booth, forgetting for a second that I’m technically on shift. “And what’s ours?”

He gestures lightly. “Family-run diner. Staff that argue like siblings. A patron who says ‘mmhmm’ like punctuation.”