A Vampire for Christmas - By Michele Hauf Page 0,96
could make another lap around the block and hope that would warm up his blood while he hunted for any sign of his target’s presence in the area. Or he could simply call it a night.
He glanced across the street again. Okay, so there was another option. Without even realizing he’d made a decision, he stepped off the curb and headed straight for the diner door.
DARN IT, THAT GUY HAD CAUGHT her staring! Della Breit’s hand shot up to check her hair. Stupid, she knew. Nothing controlled her unruly curls, especially when she was working. Lipstick might have helped, but there was no time to slip out of sight long enough to apply some without being obvious about it.
She wished she’d worn something a little fancier than one of her holiday T-shirts. Tonight’s version was festooned with giggling snowmen dancing around a Christmas tree.
“Hey, Della! More coffee?”
She forced her attention away from the man outside and back to the one sitting in the corner booth. Old Harry usually only stopped in for a hot cup of coffee and a bowl of soup, all he could afford on his small pension. Tonight, though, with the temperature outside unusually cold for Seattle, she’d insisted he stay longer and eat a full meal before heading back to his apartment.
Harry hated any hint of charity. If he insisted, she’d let him work off the difference in price crushing boxes and tossing them in the recycle bin out back. With his arthritis, she hated to let him do even that much, but she understood pride.
The bell over the door chimed, playing a quick chorus of sleigh bells. She refilled Harry’s decaf before turning to greet the newcomer. When she realized who it was, she almost dropped the carafe on the floor. Biting back a curse, she pasted on a bright smile as she turned to face the hard-eyed stranger who’d been standing across the street.
“Hi! Pick any spot and I’ll bring you a menu and a cup of coffee.”
He didn’t say a word, responding only with a quick nod before heading over to the table next to the front window, which afforded him a clear view of the diner as well as the street outside. Somehow she doubted his choice was random.
He also kept on his long, leather duster as he stretched his legs out under the table with a grimace. His hand massaged his lower right thigh, kneading the thick muscle as if it were cramping.
She caught herself flexing her fingers and imagining what it would feel to slide her own hand over that tight denim. As if sensing her gaze, he slowly turned to glare at her from across the room. His eyebrows drew down low over his icy-blue eyes making it clear that her interest wasn’t appreciated.
Della, get your head back in the game.
Embarrassed at getting caught watching him again, she broke off the connection and focused instead on snagging a menu while she waited for the fresh pot of coffee to finish brewing. When it was done, she took an indirect route toward the table by the window, stopping to top off a few other cups along the way.
When she finally reached his table, she toned her smile down a notch, aiming instead for efficient and businesslike. She held out the menu and filled his cup and tried to think of something to say.
“Cream and sugar are already on the table.”
Like he couldn’t see that for himself. What was it about this guy that had her so badly rattled?
“I’ll be back to take your order in a couple of minutes.”
He waved the menu away. “No need. All I want is coffee. I’ve already fed.”
What an odd way to put it.
“Fine. Let me know if you change your mind or maybe want some dessert. The pie is homemade and the muffins are fresh out of the oven.”
She walked away, fighting the urge to look back. When she returned to her usual spot behind the counter, he was sipping his coffee and staring out the window. Even in profile, he was striking-looking although it was obvious his nose had been broken on at least one occasion.
She bet that it wasn’t a sports injury, either, although she had no idea why she thought that. Something about the guy just screamed loner, and the image of him being a team player just wouldn’t come into focus.
A movement over near the register caught her eye, dragging her attention back to those two teenagers who’d come in