What am I thinking? Aunt Maggie’s crazy. Everyone knows that.
“Here,” she said, handing me a pot of hot coffee.
“Aunt Maggie,” I bit down on my lips, stopping myself short of whining. For whatever reason, the man in the corner booth intimidated me, and it had nothing to do with the ridiculous idea of Maggie’s that he was a spy.
No, it was that he was drop-dead gorgeous. Tall, broad shoulders, flat chest, and biceps the size of my head. His tempting build was combined with sandy brown hair, those shocking blue eyes, and a full pout. He managed to get me excited about the coffee in my hand, and we hadn’t even spoken!
Relax, Shelby. I mentally scolded myself as I walked toward the booth, my chunky heels tapping the polished floor with every step. Aunt Maggie never had any children of her own and devoted her whole life to the diner. It was nearly fifty years old, but every inch was shined to perfection as though it was freshly built. There wasn’t a speck of dust on any artwork lining the walls, no stains on the extended countertop. Even the napkin dispensers and salt and pepper shakers were polished daily.
“Evening,” I said, approaching the table. My voice trembled slightly, and I wanted to smack my own forehead. “What brings you out in this beastly weather?” I asked, glancing up from the stream of hot coffee as I poured it into the stranger’s mug.
His eyes met mine and he offered a slight smile. “Needed a change of scenery.”
I finished pouring his coffee. “And how’s the view here?” My eyes went wide as soon as the words slipped out of my mouth. Then, I realized just how much my cleavage had escaped the neckline of my sweater.
Oh, God! Did I just say that?
“I uh—just mean with the snow and the lake and the…ya know what… I’ll be right back.” I took two quick steps before turning to toss a menu on the edge of his table and hurried to the safety behind the counter.
Aunt Maggie was grinning like a Cheshire cat.
“They didn’t teach you how to pick up a man at that fancy school of yours, did they?” she asked, quirking a fair eyebrow in my direction.
I shot her a dirty look and went to scrubbing the already-pristine counter. “I wasn’t trying to pick Mr. Spyman up,” I replied in a haughty whisper.
“That’s a pity,” she said, leaning past me to survey the man. “’Cause he hasn’t stopped staring at your ass.”
“Maggie!”
She flashed a coy little smile as she shrugged her shoulders. “Have a good night, dear.”
3
Ross
I was more than simply enjoying the view. The curvy brunette captivated me. Damn! I smirked down into my half-filled cup of coffee. She’d run off before filling it the rest of the way and judging by the splash of color on her cheeks, it was going to be a while before she came back. I picked up the menu from the edge of the table and studied it, even though I already knew exactly what I wanted.
Well, besides the gorgeous woman with a great ass fiddling with a stack of menus.
Aunt Maggie—as she was known to all the locals—winked at me as she passed by on her way toward the back door.
Even though I’d been in Bitsberg for close to four years, I’d only recently stumbled upon the diner. One night, after we’d lost a game, I was tired, pissed off, hungry, and wanted a hole-in-the-wall place where no one would bother me. Maggie’s Homestyle Diner was the perfect place, and I’d been coming back weekly ever since. But I’d never seen the hot-ass brunette before. I would have remembered her for sure.
With a—hopefully—indiscernible glance across her chest, I noticed she wasn’t wearing a name tag and figured she must be new. She came back over to my table a few minutes later, smiling politely, a twinge of color still showing on her cheeks. “Did you have any questions?”
I braced my arms on the tabletop. “What’s your name?”
“I meant about the menu.”
I smirked. “In that case, no. I’m pretty attached to the biscuits and gravy.”
“Right,” she said, smiling as she reached for the menu I’d placed at the edge of the table. She swept it up and pressed it against her chest. Lucky menu. The woman was stunning. She had an hourglass shape and wasn’t afraid to show it off in a pair of black jeans and a tight red sweater. A gold necklace hung around her neck, gently dipping down right between her breasts as they peeked out from the rounded neckline. “I’ll put that order in and have it out in a few. Anything I can get you while you wait?”
I shook my head. “I’m all right. Thank you.”
She gave a slight nod and started back toward the counter but stopped short and turned around to say, “Shelby.”