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“Hmm. So, you’re a local, but someone I don’t recognize. What’s your story?”
He frowns. “I’m back in town for the weekend.”
“Oh? For what event?”
Cole thinks about that for a second, then shakes his head. “I don’t want to talk about it. I want to be left alone to eat my meal in peace.”
He’s more resistant than I anticipated. I mull my next move. I have a whole arsenal of tactics to put a smile on someone’s face. But which one to try next?” I smile and pin him with my gaze.
I suppress a grin and pull out my phone. Using it as a shield, I study the hunky man. He takes off his bowtie and unbuttons the top button of his shirt, revealing a little triangle of tanned skin at his neck. He grimaces and throws me a sneaky side glance.
What is his deal? I can’t put together any scenario that makes sense.
Pearl reappears with several plates, dropping a magnificent-looking waffle in front of Cole. She puts down two plates of bland-looking eggs and two spinach salads in front of me. I open my mouth to ask Pearl if she accidentally gave my plate to Cole, but she is distracted.
“I’ll be back in just a sec,” Pearl says, looking at the doorway. Fifteen people are crowding into the restaurant, looking for seats.
I look down at the eggs, making a face. What a boring meal choice. Then I peek over at Cole’s waffle. I’m willing to bet that delicious-looking waffle is actually mine.
He’s staring at the syrupy, whipped cream-covered confection with something like horror. “What the hell is this?” he mutters.
“I believe you’ve got my order.” I smile at him.
“Surely not,” he growls. “This must be for a five-year-old.”
“Nope. That’s mine. Dessert for breakfast.”
He looks disgusted and stands up, his height surprising me. I didn’t realize he was so big. He picks up my waffle and slams it down in front of me with a thud. Then he grabs his plates and moves them over to his spot at the counter, looking as tense as a rattlesnake in a room full of rocking chairs.
“These are mine,” he spits. He says it like he’s accusing me of stealing from him.
“Okay,” I say, raising my hands. “I never said that they weren’t.”
Pearl reappears with my hash browns and a pot of coffee. She plunks down my hash browns and refills his coffee cup. Cole has a huge mouthful of eggs at the moment, otherwise, I get the feeling that he would definitely correct Pearl’s mistake.
But she is gone the next second.
Cole frowns and grabs a piece of toast, cramming it in his mouth. He eats like a starving man.
“Are you trying to get in your final meal before the rapture happens?” I joke. I decide to switch to the next tactic in my arsenal, which is gentle ribbing. Most guys eat it up with a spoon.
Cole glares at me, his mouth full. He doesn’t say anything, which just makes me want to crack him open like an egg and learn what’s inside his shell.
I grab the syrup from between us and pour a healthy dose of it onto my waffle. He wrinkles his nose, swallows, and gives me a side-eye. “Are you serious?”
* * *
I blush. “What? Can’t a girl eat her sugary breakfast in peace?”
He snorts. “Do the rules of grown-up nutrition not apply to you?”
“Not at breakfast.” I punctuate that by spearing a forkful of waffle and syrup and shoving it in my mouth. I close my eyes and enjoy the taste of a thousand angels singing. “Pure bliss.”
He shakes his head. “That’s disgusting.”
“When’s the last time you tried it?” I slide my plate toward him. “Take a bite.”
He stops me by putting up a hand.
