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“Hey,” he said.
“Hi.” Atlas moved his head, and she rubbed between his ears. “Where are we?”
“Ohio.”
“You must be exhausted.”
“Not really. I’ve had to stay up for far longer than this, and in much worse conditions.”
Gemma felt a catch in her belly. She couldn’t even imagine how tough he was, what he’d endured.
“Hungry?” he asked. “I figured we’d find a place for some breakfast.”
Her stomach rumbled at the thought of food. “Is it safe to stop?”
“I think so. I’ll head off the highway for a bit to make sure. I had a stash of cash in my gear, so we won’t use a credit card.”
She plucked at the oversized sweater she wore. “My outfit is really good for dining in.”
He glanced at her. “You look fine. We’ll pick up some clothes for you when we can. My stash only has stuff in my size.”
Boone pulled off the highway. They ended up in a small, out-of-the-way town. He pulled up in front of a diner.
“Atlas, stay in the truck.” Boone cracked the window. “I’ll bring you back breakfast.”
The dog gave a low woof.
They entered the diner. It was like stepping back in time. Wooden tables and booths, scarred linoleum floor, some kitschy clocks on the walls.
“Hi, there.” A smiling older lady intercepted them. “Take a seat. The menus are on the table. I’ll be back to take your order soon.”
Gemma went to sit in a booth near the door, but Boone grabbed her hand. He pulled her to another booth. “Sit beside me, on this side.”
She realized how alert he was, scanning the other occupants of the diner.
Nodding, she slid into the seat, and he followed her in. His thigh brushed hers and she felt a flush of warmth.
“Why this table?” she whispered.
“Safer. No entry or exit behind us. I can see everyone who enters from here.”
Did he ever shut off that constant vigilance? Did he ever relax?
Boone perused the menu. Gemma did as well and decided to keep it simple.
The waitress pulled out a notepad. “Right, what will it be?”
“The big breakfast for me,” Boone said. “Extra serving of bacon, please. And coffee, black.”
“Gotcha, handsome. And for your beautiful wife?”
Gemma blinked and glanced at Boone. He slid an arm around her. “Honey?”
Her pulse did a little skitter. “Scrambled eggs on toast, please. And orange juice and a cappuccino.”
“I’m on it.”
“So, we’re married now?” Gemma asked softly, after the waitress had gone.
