Looking across to where Murphy was pointing, Maddie knew exactly who that was with his broad back and brown hair that curled at the top of his neck. He was wearing a dark blue cap, the peak pulled low over his face, and his head was angled down as though he was reading the menu in front of him intently. It allowed her to study him for a moment, to take in the muscles of his back, the tattoos that were almost-but-not-quite covered up by the sleeves of his black tee. She wondered what it would feel like to trace her finger across the ink.
“There’s only one way to find out,” Maddie told Murphy, sliding her bag into a locker, and grabbing a fresh apron from the hook. “I’ll see if he wants coffee.”
“Try to sell him some waffles. I made too much mix up.”
“How much is too much?” Maddie asked him, curious.
“About five quarts.” Murphy shrugged. “It’s been quiet in here today.”
Maddie grinned and pushed through the metal double doors into the main diner. Murphy was right, it was as quiet as hell in here. That was Tuesdays for you.
“Coffee?” she asked, carrying a full pot over to the only occupied table.
Gray looked up, a slow smile curling his lips. “Cora Jean,” he said. “How’re you doing?”
His eyes caught hers and she felt her skin tingle. Even with the peak of his cap pulled low he was ridiculously handsome. She wanted to throw a damn bucket of water over herself. Yeah, he was good looking, but she’d met a lot of good looking guys.
Though, none of them had ever made her body tingle like this.
“Black. No sugar, right?”
“You got it.”
She poured out a mugful, then inclined her head at the menu in front of him. “Can I get you something to eat?”
“Pour yourself a cup and sit with me,” Gray said, his eyes still on hers. “Maddie.”
She’d been expecting it. You didn’t stay in town for long and not find out everything, and Gray wasn’t stupid. Yet she still felt her stomach drop as he said her name. Not because he didn’t say it beautifully – he did. But because it meant she had to be herself.
Lame old Maddie Clark.
She’d kind of enjoyed being intrepid Cora, leading him astray.
“I have to work,” she told him.
He looked around the diner. “You’re not exactly rushing around in here. I’ll buy you breakfast. Name your poison.”
“I hear the waffles are good,” she said, her mouth quirking with humor.
“Better than the eggs?”
“Anything’s better than the eggs.” His eyes caught hers and she found herself blushing. He had an irresistible charm to him. One that made children grin and young girls swoon and older women spend a helluva lot of money on his music.
“Two servings of waffles it is.”
She gave Murphy the order, then grabbed herself a mug for coffee. “You’re brave sitting by the window,” she told him. “After Sunday I thought you might want to lay low.”
“I figure most of those girls are at school right now. And I wanted to see you.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “You did?”
“Yeah. I got a question for you.”
“I might not want to answer it,” she told him, tipping her head to the side. He smiled again, a sunshine kind of smile that wrinkled the corners of his eyes.
“I’m getting that feeling when it comes to you.” He leaned his chin on his knuckles and leaned forward, his eyes narrow as they caught hers. “But I figure you owe me the truth.”
“How’d you figure that?”