Roots and Wings (City Limits #1)(3)

“Your old man’s gonna go eat, then I’m hitting the sack. These old bones are tired.” He winked at me as he slapped off the lights to the shop. “Love you, Mutt.”

“Love you, too, Dad. See you in the morning.”

It didn’t take me five minutes to get the register in order, and then I went through the pile of invoices in the folder. There was almost ten thousand dollars’ worth of billing in there. I sorted them and decided I’d come back the next morning to finish up.

I was starving and didn’t want Diana waiting on me so she could go home. She would, too, if she saw the light in the shop. Hell, if it weren’t for her, I would have starved by age three.

I closed up the building for the night and walked across the street. Teenagers were cruising, people were filing into Sally’s—one of the two bars in town—and it was a normal, small-town Saturday night.

I stepped up to the brick front of Diana’s, and just as I was opening the door I heard a man say, “Shit,” from the vehicle parked nearby. I guess I wasn’t the only one having a long day. Minding my own business, I stepped into the diner.

“Hey there, sweetie. I’ve got your sandwich in the oven keeping it warm for you. Want anything else with it?” asked Diana. She wiped her hands on her apron as she dropped the rag she’d been wiping tables off with when I came in.

“No, I probably won’t even be able to finish the sandwich.”

“Your daddy said you had a long day. Those big hazel eyes of yours look a little tiresome.” She was kindhearted, so I knew it wasn’t an insult.

I nodded, which turned into stretching my neck. Diana was right. Thirteen hours is a long day for anyone, especially this twenty-six-year-old chick.

She smiled sympathetically, the ever growing laugh lines on her face appearing, then she walked in back to get my food. Her grey hair was swept up in a ponytail, and as she walked away she rubbed the back of her neck, too.

She was a hard worker. There were a few high school kids who helped her out here and there, but other than that, it was just her and one other waitress running the place.

I took a seat in the booth closest to the door, and when the bell rang above it I reflexively looked up. There stood a tall man who I didn’t know.

Wynne wasn’t big and I knew everyone who lived there. It wasn’t likely for a passerby to stop in, especially at quarter to eight on a Saturday night.

He looked at his watch, taking stock of how empty the place was.

“Hi,” he said as he regarded me with the most striking cornflower blue eyes I’d ever seen. “Are they still open?”

I blinked a few times. His words had hit my ears, but not yet my brain. I sat there staring. Either I was delusional, or he was one of the finest men I’d ever seen.

What in the hell would bring him here?

“Excuse me,” he added, looking for an answer. “Do you know if they are still open?”

I shook the stupid from my head and replied, “Hell, I’m sorry. Lost my thought there. Yeah, they’re open, but I think the kitchen is already closed down for the night.”

He took a frustrated breath, raising his arm and placing his palm to his forehead. “Perfect,” he huffed as he squeezed his eyes shut, looking defeated.

I instantly felt bad for him. I always had a bleeding heart for someone down on their luck. If he was the same guy who was swearing in his SUV, which I knew he was, then this just added to whatever he was already dealing with.

I could commiserate.

“If you’re hungry,” I started to say when he interrupted.

“Of course I’m hungry, why else would I be here?”

I didn’t take offense. I was no stranger to a hungry man with a short temper, but I also wasn’t one to take their shit.

“Hey! You didn’t let me finish. All I was saying was, she has pie up there under the counter. Chill out.” I didn’t shout, but my tone was a clear message that *s were never alone in a room with me. If you want to be a jerk, bring your A game.

He froze and hung his not-from-around-here head.

“Sorry. I’m just starving and tired,” he apologized. Then he pointed a finger in the direction of the pie case and raised his contrite eyebrows like he was saying, “In there?”

I nodded sarcastically.

He started it.

The guy walked over to the case just as Diana walked out with my overflowing plate. She’d even added lattice fries, because she knew they were my favorite. It smelled like heaven. An embarrassment of riches in the form of meat and potatoes.

When he saw what I was getting, his eyes grew to the size of saucers. They followed her all the way across the room until she placed the plate down in front of me. If it had been a cartoon, he would have had one of those thought bubbles above his head with my plate in it.

“Hi there, honey. You want some pie? I’ve got the kitchen shut down, but you can have whatever you like under there.”

Diana danced around grabbing a bottle of ketchup and mustard off of the table behind where I sat and handed them to me.

“You want some tea, Mutt?”

“Yeah. Extra ice, please.”

“Okay,” she said, handing me a knife and fork rolled in a napkin.

“See anything in there that looks good to you?” she asked the guy.

He tapped the glass as he studied the pies. My eyes were drawn to him, trying to figure out who he might be and what he was doing in Wynne.