“Uh…hey,” I replied quietly.
This was not good.
It was sunny. The diner had big, plate glass windows and my booth was right up next to one. It was not a darkened bar or an even more darkened playground.
And he was not attractive.
He was beautiful.
His hair wasn’t dark brown, I was shocked to see. It was actually blond but a blond I’d never seen before. Very dark blond with a hint of red burnish that was nowhere near making him a redhead, just enriching the color of his thick, longish hair so it wasn’t just fantastic, it was astonishing.
His bone structure wasn’t strong, defined and interesting. It was striking.
And I could see the color of his eyes surrounded by thick, long, dark lashes with the same rusty burnish as his hair.
They were a deep, dark blue.
And as he unveiled his throat, I saw its corded, supremely masculine length and my palms got sweaty.
Hells bells.
I pulled it together.
“Can I help you?” I asked.
He opened his mouth to speak as he dropped the scarf next to him on the seat but I heard shouted, “Gray! Breakfast or coffee?”
He turned his head and my eyes followed to see my waitress across the way. She was wearing faded jeans that were too tight, definitely bought before she’d put on the extra fifteen pounds she wore and that extra fifteen had been added to an extra thirty. Same with her sweater. An apron was tied around her disappearing waist and it did her no favors, unfortunately.
“Had breakfast, Ang, coffee,” he called back then turned to me. Finishing shrugging off his jacket, he swung it out from behind him and dropped it on his scarf. “I’m Gray,” he announced as he settled.
“Hi Gray,” I replied then repeated, “Can I help you?”
He grinned and he really shouldn’t have done that. He really shouldn’t have.
Because he had a dimple in his left cheek, it made him go from strikingly handsome to strikingly handsome with a hint of cute thrown in for good measure. And if that wasn’t enough, it brought my attention to his lips which, I did not know how, but I hadn’t noticed until then were full and inviting.
My mouth got dry.
“I’m Gray,” he repeated, I tore my eyes from his now moving, beautiful lips to his equally beautiful eyes and he went on, “You are?”
I pulled it together again.
“I’m wondering how I can help you.”
His eyes went funny, assessing, watchful as his head tipped slightly to the side.
Then he untipped his head and noted, “You’re still in town.”
I looked down at myself then at him and agreed, “Yep.”
He grinned again.
Hells bells!
“You get warm the other night?” he asked.
“Yep,” I repeated.
“Good,” he muttered and Ang, our waitress, hit the table with a mug of coffee for Gray.
We both looked up at her. She was looking at Gray.
“How’s Mirry?” she asked.
“She’s good,” Gray answered on another dimpled smile.
Jeez oh Pete, that smile.
I had to get out of there.
“Been awhile since I been out to see her. She want some company?” Ang asked Gray.
“Always,” Gray answered.
“Can she take a visit from the brood?” Ang went on and Gray’s smile got bigger.
Yep. Oh yes. I had to get the heck out of there.
“You know she can, Ang,” he replied.
“All right then, I’ll pack up my monsters and swing by this afternoon after school,” Ang declared, dipped her head at Gray, looked at me, gave me a head to chest then she looked back at Gray, her head tilted to the side, she grinned a knowing grin then waddled (it had to be said, it was definitely a waddle) away.
Gray’s fantastic blue eyes came back to me.
“That’s Ang,” he told me.
“Got that,” I murmured.
He grinned again.
God. I had to get out of there.
“She’s got one boy, three girls, the boy…” he shook his head, still grinning. “Not sure which way that kid’s gonna swing but I had to guess, I reckon my guess would be accurate. The girls, all tomboys. It’s wild. Never seen anything like it. They’re more boy than most boys and her boy is more girl than any girl.”
“That’s fascinating,” I stated. It was and more, it felt good him sharing that with me. I didn’t know why. It could be the casual way he did it, like we were having a conversation, like we were getting to know each other, like this would be one of many such situations we would find ourselves in, together, just like we were then, conversing, sharing, getting to know each other until we knew each other and therefore I had to shut it down. “But you still haven’t answered my question.”
His smile faded and his eyes went watchful again. He also didn’t speak.
He studied me for a while as I assessed my options, deciding to get some money out, throw it on the table in order to pay for my already eaten and plate cleared breakfast and mostly drunk not cleared third cup of coffee, get my stuff, say a farewell that wasn’t rude but was final and get the heck out of there.
Before I could put this plan into action, Gray spoke again.
“Man you’re with, not old enough to be your Dad, looks enough like you, gotta be kin. He your brother?”
That had my attention.
When had he seen Casey?
I didn’t ask this question.
Instead I made a point.
“You the sheriff or something?”
He shook his head, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Then can’t say I’m real comfortable with that kind of attention,” I told him.
“Bet not,” he replied quietly.
“I –” I started but stopped when he leaned in.
“Can’t say I wanna say this but I’m gonna say it. You’re not here to look into the waitressing gig at Jenkins, you and your guy best be moving on.”
Not good.
“Sorry?” I asked even more quietly than he was speaking
“Don’t know the game, don’t care, don’t ‘spect you’ll share since you won’t even tell me your name. Do know what he’s doin’ and I’m not the only one. Don’t know when he calls you in to do your part. What I’ll tell you is, you move forward on whatever mark he thinks he’s found, you will find trouble. They’re expecting it. They’ve clocked him. You need to move on.”
I was right. Not good.
Casey had been made. And Gray, knowing I was laying low, made me.