When he made it to the town square ten minutes later, there was a light on in Murphy’s Diner, and his stomach growled as if it knew what that meant. He slapped the pocket of his jeans to make sure he had his wallet and headed in.
The diner was as empty as the streets. He walked up to the counter and took in the glass domes covering freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and generous wedges of lemon cake. The smell made his mouth water.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come in,” a woman called from the half-open door to the kitchen. “I’ll be right there.”
“No rush.”
Gray leaned on the counter as the woman backed through the door, pushing it open with her denim-clad behind. He blinked when he realized he was staring. Soft, rounded, and completely inappropriate to be caught looking at. Somehow he managed to tear his gaze away before she turned around and put the tray she was carrying on the counter in front of him.
“Oh.” She blinked. “Can I get you some coffee?”
Her expression was unreadable. He had no idea if she knew who he was or not. Becca had said that most of Hartson’s Creek knew he was back in town, but his little sister was always known to exaggeration.
He nodded. “Black. No sugar, please.”
“Coming right up.” The waitress smiled as she poured him a cup. “Are you ready to order?”
“I’ll let the caffeine work first.” He took the mug from her, the tips of her fingers sliding against his. He frowned at the shock it sent up his arm, the sensation making his hand shake, hot coffee splashing over the rim and onto his fingers.
“Oh my god, I’m sorry.” The waitress tore a wad of paper towel from the roll on the wall behind her. “Are you okay? Did I burn you?” She pressed the towel against his hand. “I have a first aid kit here somewhere. We must have some cream in it.”
“It’s fine,” he said, amused. “It was just a few drops. We can probably hold off on the burn kit.”
She looked at him through her thick lashes. Christ, she was pretty, in a girl-next-door kind of way. Big hazel eyes and freckles across her high cheekbones that reminded him of a fawn. As she leaned across the counter and dabbed at his hand, he tried not to look down at the curve of her chest.
What the hell was wrong with him? He really wasn’t that kind of guy. Bringing his gaze firmly back to her face, he realized she looked familiar.
Not that it was a big surprise. He probably went to school with her, or played football with her brother, or made out with her cousin at a school dance. He only had to ask her name to find out who she was and who her relations were, yet he didn’t.
Because then he’d have to tell her who he was.
He lifted the cup to his lips and swallowed a mouthful of coffee, watching as she wiped up the counter. He barely tasted it as it went down.
“You want a top up?” she asked him.
“That’d be good.” He held his mug out. She was extra careful this time, pouring slowly and leaving a good inch of space between the coffee and the rim of his cup. “I’ll order in a minute. I’m still trying to make up my mind.”
“Take your time. Murphy’s still half asleep back there, anyway. I always advise customers not to expect anything edible before eight a.m.”
Gray laughed. “I
s that why this place is so empty?”
She shook her head. “It’s empty because everybody’s sleeping as long as they can before church starts. We’re never busy on Sundays until service lets out.”
“Everybody goes to church?” Still? Gray hadn’t stepped foot in a church in years.
“Pretty much.”
“Except you.”
She grinned. “I pray at the church of coffee.”
“You’re going to hell.” He winked at her.
“I’ve been there. Stayed a few years, got a t-shirt, decided not to go back again.” She raised an eyebrow as she leaned her elbow on the counter and rested her chin on her palm. “Pretty sure the devil has more important people to concentrate on than me.”
Her lips curled up and they did something to him. They were completely devoid of make-up, yet as plump as any he’d seen in L.A.