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Hannah grabbed the plate of food, and Chloe came up beside her, bumping her with her hip.
“Just so you know, he came in wondering where you were.”
There was that zip of excitement again. “He did?”
“Yeah, he seemed put out to have me wait on him, which, by the way, is slightly offensive. I’m freaking delightful.”
Hannah laughed and bumped her back. “You are. We’re friends, though, and he’s having a rough day, which is probably why he wanted to talk to me.”
“Ha, friends, yeah. Sorry, but I can’t imagine any red-blooded American female being just friends with that hot slab of man meat.”
“You’re gross.” Hannah walked away from her friend and grabbed the coffeepot with her free hand. Chloe wasn’t wrong about Blake’s attractiveness, but man meat?
It just wasn’t dignified.
Hannah set the plate down in front of him and refilled his cup. “So, you were going to tell me about your day . . . ”
Blake shrugged at first, but when she sat down across from him once more and gave him an impatient hmm, he cracked like a one-dollar folding chair.
“It has just been rough from the start. Woke up late, and my water heater must be broken, because I had to take a freezing cold shower. Then I walked out to find my car had been busted into and my radio was gone.”
“Oh my God, that is awful. I am so sorry.”
He sipped his coffee before answering. “It’s just another reason I should really think about moving, but I’m lazy about it. I hate change.”
Hannah could understand that. It was probably why she’d stayed so close to where her parents lived. The thought of being too far away was hard. She hadn’t even gone away to college, not because she hadn’t wanted to, but because her dad was a professor at the junior college and she couldn’t turn down the free education she got being a professor’s kid.
Still, she would never stay somewhere that wasn’t safe.
“So, what are you going to do then? Are you planning on staying here, or do you think you’ll get deployed?” Please say no.
“No, I doubt it. Not unless another war breaks out; they really want Alpha Dog to succeed, so they need as many hands on deck as they can get in order to expand. Right now they are working on opening a girls’ facility.”
“That’s fantastic.” She glanced up and saw an elderly couple come through the door, disappointment churning in her gut. She really wanted to stay and talk to Blake, but the Johnsons were some of her regulars. “Sorry, duty calls. I’ll stop by to check on you.”
That had been the plan, at least, until the place exploded with activity. After the Johnsons came in, a group of eight women from the technology college walked in, and every minute or two after, a new customer arrived. It was great for business, but when she dropped Blake’s check off to him, she hardly had time for more than an I’ll be right back before someone was waving her down.
When she came back to take his money, he was walking out the door with a wave, and she smiled when she saw he’d left her a ten-dollar tip, more than his meal had even cost. Crazy man.
She went to put his money in the drawer and noticed the writing on top of the receipt.
Don’t forget to send me those book recommendations. Blake. 916-777-0912
He’d left her his number.
Hannah wanted to do a little dance behind the register but was too afraid of drawing attention to herself. She settled for smiling like a crazy person for the rest of her shift, and then it was time to head to her second job as a substitute teacher. She changed in the bathroom into a pair of slacks and a soft, gray sweater with a printed wool circle scarf. She pulled on her boots and walked out of the bathroom, her yellow Dale’s uniform shoved into her tote bag.
“See you guys later,” she called out, and Kenny waved from the little opening. Chloe and Paulette, the server who came in to relieve Hannah, said good-bye but were too busy for any other pleasantries.
Hannah pulled on her coat as she stepped outside and shoved her hands in her pockets. The receipt with Blake’s number crinkled in her hand, and her hear
t picked up speed, excitement pulsing through her body with a steady drumming.
Once she was inside her car, waiting for it to warm up, she pulled the receipt out and punched the number into her phone. Her thumb wavered over the text message icon. Was it too soon to send him suggestions?
She put the phone back into her coat and sighed. It was probably better to wait until after work to text him. The last thing she wanted to do was seem overeager.
Chapter Two
