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Shrugging it on, I turned just in time to see her taking in my belly and chest before I covered it with my t-shirt.
She snorted when she read the front. “Chaotic is my middle name?”
“Family motto,” I said. “I think Holden got this for me last Christmas.”
I caught her hand and led her across the street, not dropping it the entire way.
When we got to the door, I held it open for her, but she shook her head when I gestured for her to go in first.
“Sorry, but no. This isn’t the feminist in me getting upset about the man holding the door open, either. This is the introvert in me not wanting to make first contact with whomever is on the other side of the door,” she hurriedly explained.
I would’ve rolled my eyes, but I felt her pain.
I wasn’t too keen on making first contact, either. But I’d rather me be uncomfortable than her.
“I’ll try to remember that,” I said as I held the door open for her to follow in my wake.
She did, keeping close to my back, and still holding my hand.
I pulled her in tight to my back when I spilled into the main part of the room.
I took a quick look around, noting exits, patrons and staff as I did.
When I finally gave my attention back to the employee who was staring at me, I said, “Two, please.”
I felt Hades shiver at my back, and I wondered if she was cold.
My guess she was.
It was just under fifty degrees outside, and inside the diner it wasn’t much better. Though, I hoped that was due to the fact that we were standing by the front door, and not because the restaurant didn’t like to use heat.
“This way,” the man said stiffly as he took us to our seats.
He placed us in the back of the room, and I had a feeling it was because people in the back didn’t get as good as service. We had ‘out of town’ written all over us.
“Your server will be with you shortly,” the man muttered as he walked away.
He looked like he had a miserable life here.
“Mr. Exciting,” Hades said as she came from around my back to stare at the booth he’d taken us to.
I took her in and noted the pebbled nipples before saying, “Cold?”
“It’s freezing in here,” she muttered darkly. “Why did I not bring different clothes?”
I couldn’t complain.
I liked the way she looked.
But she was right. Today, she’d worn my sweatpants over the top of her shorts to work and hadn’t thought to bring them with her on our walk over.
“Probably because you were under all those lights and you were hot yourself when you were done,” I supplied. “Sit on my side of the booth. You can get against the wall and my body might help you get some heat in.”
“Ahh,” she said as she slid into the booth that allowed me to see the entire room. What the guy didn’t know was this was the booth I would’ve requested anyway. “Geez, these seats are cold.”
I took the seat next to her and scooted in a little closer than I would’ve done for anyone else. Then placed my arm along the back and curved it around her shoulders. “My pants are wet, though.”
She snorted. “But you’re warm.”
I was that.
Pulling up the menu with my free hand, I started to take a look at the food choices.
“It looks like it’s all fried,” I surmised.
She leaned into my shoulder and took a look at the menu.
“There’s corn,” she pointed.
“Fried corn,” I corrected.
She snickered and trailed off, her eyes taking in the entire menu as we waited for the server to show up.
It took her ten minutes, and when she arrived, she brought a plume of cigarette smoke with her.
Likely, she’d been the one I’d marked on the side of the building smoking as we’d come inside.
Classy.
“What can I get ya?” she asked in a deep, raspy voice.
She sounded like a pack a day smoker, too.
I curled my arm a bit tighter around Hades and said, “Do you know what you want?”
She nodded.
I gave my order—a grilled chicken sandwich and house potato chips—and Hades gave hers.
“I’ll have a heart attack burger,” she said. “Extra mayo. Instead of the fries, I want onion rings. Oh, and what kind of dessert do you have?”
The lady said ‘pie.’
Which inwardly had me laughing.
“I’ll have some ‘pie’ then. Also, I’ll have a lemonade, and he’ll have a water.” She handed our menus to the server.
The server didn’t write anything down, and I hoped that she would get the food right.
“Heart attack burger?” I asked when she left.
She yawned delicately and said, “The one and only thing that my mother gave me was her body type.”
I snorted. “What about your cholesterol?”
“What I don’t know won’t hurt me,” she offered.
