She’s never recovered.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me too.” He pulls his hand away and waves for the waitress.
Discussion over. I respect the boundaries he’s set and take a quick look at the menu.
“What can I get you?” the older woman asks. She looks at me first.
“Egg-white omelet with spinach and American cheese.”
His lips lift in a grin. “Figures. I’ll have the AM Special.” He hands her his menu along with mine.
“Bacon with that?”
“Yep.”
“Home fries?”
He nods.
She pockets her pad and walks away.
I look at him and shake my head and laugh. “What comes with the morning special?”
“Scrambled eggs and a double stack of pancakes.”
And bacon and home fries. I can’t help it. I grin.
“What? I’m a growing boy.”
“You’re no boy,” I say, and my eyes immediately widen. I’ve done it again. Open mouth and pop out the thing on my mind.
“No?” He folds his arms on the table and leans across from me. “What am I?”
A hot-blooded man. That I manage to keep inside. “I—”
Before I can reply, the trilling of my cell saves me. I pull it from my small purse and answer immediately. “Sean! I didn’t expect to hear back from you so soon.”
“I sent my guy to deal with your car. Looks like someone beat me to it. You’ve got two new tires.” He sounds harassed, and I feel bad he’s dealing with my shit for no reason.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know who would…” My gaze falls on Zach. He’s staring and he’s not happy.
I have no idea why his mood suddenly changed, but something tells me exactly who took care of my car.
“I’m really sorry you sent someone for no reason,” I tell Sean. “I think I know who handled things. I just didn’t know he’d do it.”
“He?” Sean immediately latches on to the one word in the sentence that matters. “A friend of yours?” he asks, his tone dark. Concerned.
“Yes.” I don’t mention Zach’s a new friend or that his intentions are so much more than that.
“Be careful, Chloe. Men don’t do surprise favors like that for women if they don’t want something in return.”
I lose all the moisture in my mouth. Staring at my hot guy across the table, listening to my old friend’s warning, I wonder if I’m letting my too-trusting nature lead me down a stupid path. Again.
“You hear me?” Sean asks.
“I do. And I appreciate the heads up. Thanks again, and I’m sorry for the hassle.”
He says something that sounds muffled to my ears, and a female voice speaks up in the background. “Is that Avery?” I ask.
“Yes. She also says watch out.”
“That’s not what I said!” she calls out. “I said it’s sweet that a guy would help you that way. Sean always thinks the worst.” She’s obviously grabbed the phone. “Be careful but enjoy life.”
“Don’t listen to her,” Sean mutters. “You think before you act. Call if you need to.” And then he disconnects the call.
I laugh at their byplay, place the phone on the table, and glance at my companion.
“Friend of yours?” he asks, his voice a deep pitch I’ve never heard from him before. He almost sounds … angry.
I sit back in my seat, Sean’s alert sounding in my brain. “Old friend. Neighbor, actually.” I’m not giving him any information. Sean’s a private man, and I don’t know Zach or what he wants from me.
“ Guy friend.” Zach pins me with an eerie glare.
“Old. Friend.” I’m not playing this weird game.
In a flash of insight — yes, I occasionally have them — I realize Sean’s right. I need to be careful. I barely know this mercurial man who inserted himself in my life, and his new mood scares me.
I wonder if there’s a way to extricate myself from this awkward situation when the waitress arrives and places our plates in front of us. “Can I get you anything else?” she asks.
So much for escaping before the food arrives. “No thank you.”
Ignoring Zach, I pick up my fork and dig into my breakfast. We
Melinda Metz - Fingerprints - 7