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“Well,” he said, “when you have two sisters, you learn things like dancing.”
“Ah. You probably know more about women than most men do.”
He laughed out loud. “That is not an accurate assumption in any way. As much as I would love for it to be true. No. Women are a mystery to me. But I like a good mystery.”
Now it was her turn to blush and avoid his eyes. If she looked any longer into those pools of blue, she might cave and tell him everything. Open her heart more than she had in years. The thought of that didn’t scare her though. Whenever she was with Chet, everything felt safe. Settled.
He rubbed the back of his neck and nodded toward her ankle. “How’s the leg?”
“It’s good. Feeling a lot better.”
“I’m glad to hear it. You ready to run?”
They took off in a jog side by side, settling into a comfortable pace with one another. They chatted as they ran, and with every step, Meg found herself wanting to let her guard down. Maybe it was time for her to step out of the shadow of grief she’d allowed herself to live in for so long. They finished their miles and ended up back where they started. Normally, they took time to catch their breath and have some water before going their separate ways.
“Do you want to come to the diner? I can get Franklin to make you his famous eggs Benedict.”
For a moment, Chet just looked at her. His hands were on his hips, his chest moving with the depth of his breath. Meg tried to not stare. From biceps that strained the sleeves of his shirt to legs that looked as if he did squats all day, the man was solid muscle. Being easy on the eyes didn’t hurt either.
She took his silence to mean he would say no. “Unless you don’t like that. It’s not a meal everyone enjoys…” Babbling. She’d resorted to babbling. The courage to invite him to a meal faded fast.
“I love eggs Benedict.”
*
Chet parked histruck in the diner parking lot and cut the engine. He’d been grinning like a school kid ever since Meg had asked him to breakfast. Step two of his plan to get to know Meg had been to wait for the opportune time to ask her for coffee—not a date just yet—so he was pleasantly surprised at her offer.
As he got out of his truck and headed toward the diner, he also thought of how she’d shocked him by saying hehadbeen the reason for the smile on her face. And admitted she’d had fun dancing. Had thinking about it kept her up most of the night the way it had him?
It was still early so the diner wasn’t hopping yet. He and Meg had agreed to go home, shower, and change and meet at the diner. As he came through the door, he noticed Meg now in her standard uniform of ponytail, T-shirt, jeans, and black half-apron with the diner logo on it. She was pouring coffee for the lone guy at the counter and smiling at something he was telling her.
This was the Meg that had drawn Chet in like a moth to the flame. He saw the quick-witted woman everyone else did, and yet he had always sensed so much more about her.
She looked up and caught him watching her. With a smile that melted his insides, she pointed to a booth down at the back of the diner by the window. He nodded and made his way over and sat down.
She came over with two coffee mugs and a pot of coffee. She filled both and placed the pot on the table before sitting across from him. “Black coffee, right?”
“Yep.” He took a sip. “This is good coffee.”
“You sound surprised.”
He smiled but didn’t respond.
“Stereotype of diner coffee, I know. It’s either super good or super bad.”
“You said it. Not me.” He put both hands up in defense then wrapped them around the coffee mug.
“Franklin should have our breakfast ready soon.” She sat back against the booth and looked out the window. Things were quiet between them for a few minutes, which didn’t bother Chet at all. Not unlike a wounded animal, Meg needed to be the one to step forward, not him.
When she did speak, her question wasn’t what he expected.
“Do you think black coffee is a firefighter thing?” She took a sip of hers and looked at him.
“I never really thought about it before. I mean, the coffee area at the fire station is nothing fancy and most of the time there’s just powder creamer available, so I can’t speak for the others, but I’ll take mine black without sand in it any day.”
She laughed.
He leaned forward as if to share a big secret with her. “And you can’t repeat this to anyone, but Cliff, our fire captain, prefersflavored lattes from Jamie’s Java.” He sat back again. “But you didn’t hear that from me.”
