Single Dad Seeks Juliet - Max Monroe Page 0,43

me the other morning.

“That’s right,” he says with a smile. “Almost lost track of what day it is.”

She chortles and reaches down to touch his shoulder softly. “You and me both.”

“We’ll both take my usual, okay?”

Shell finally looks over from Jake to me, but I’m pleased to see her eyes warm on me too. There’s no jealousy or angst from her. She’s just friendly. I make sure my answering smile meets my eyes.

“Nice to meet you, Shell,” I say. “I’m Holley.”

“You too, darlin’. Be right back with your coffees,” she says to us both with a wink.

“She’s nice,” I say as soon as she walks away.

Jake nods. “She is. Works really hard, too. She has a couple kids and a deadbeat husband, so tips are really important to her.”

I purse my lips as I think about Shell struggling. I don’t want that for her. Instantly, I dig down in my purse to try to find some extra bills to leave for her on the table when we go. She needs them more than I do.

Jake’s hand comes down on my own to stop me, but when I look up, his eyes make Shell’s look like glaciers. Geez. I don’t really know if I’ve ever been looked at like that. “She won’t take it,” he whispers. “That’s why I come here every morning. You have to spread it out a little bit at a time.”

My throat closes around itself as he sits back in the booth and looks out the window. His jaw is strong, and Lord Almighty, he’s attractive. Now, after telling me the reason he comes here every freaking morning, dare I say, more than ever.

And let me tell you—he’s pretty dang attractive all the time. So, being more than that? Should be impossible.

I set my purse back down on the seat beside me and lean my elbows into the table with a sigh, asking, “So, what else should I know about you?” He raises his eyebrows, and I shake my head and clear my throat. “What should readers know about you, I mean.”

“I’m just a regular guy.” He shrugs off his words. “Have been for a really long time.”

My eyes narrow on his way-too-vague answer, but I don’t have time to argue it. Shell arrives with our plates, and I have to shove back out of the way so she can place it in front of me. “Wow,” I say. “That was quick.”

Shell winks at me before setting down Jake’s plate. “Let me know if you all need anything else.”

She’s barely out of earshot when Jake leans into the table to whisper. “She probably snuck our order to the front of the line.”

I smile. “Shell is quickly working her way on to my Christmas list.”

I was really only speaking to myself, but Jake laughs anyway.

I look up at the sound, and as luck would have it, that means I’m just in time to see him pick up the leafy garnish under the wedge of orange on his plate and toss it into his mouth.

“What…what are you doing?” I ask, flabbergasted. “That’s a garnish.”

He shrugs. “Tastes like lettuce to me.”

“You’re not supposed to eat it,” I point out further.

“So?”

“You just ate it!”

“I know,” he confirms. “Still chewing on it right now.”

“I just… Why would you do that?”

“Why wouldn’t I do it? It’s edible. It’s on my plate. I ate it.”

“That’s so not the point.”

He quirks a brow. “And what is the point exactly?”

Head absolutely spinning that we’re in the middle of another semi-spat over him being a freak, I decide to drop it. “Never mind.”

A soft chortle slips past his full lips. “Man, that’s going to bother you all day, isn’t it?”

“It’s just weird!” I snap.

His hand shoots out and grabs the garnish from my plate and shoves that in his mouth too.

“Why?” I whine into my hands. “Why are you taunting me?”

He cracks up then, but he eventually reaches across the table to pull my hands off my eyes. “Okay,” he says with a raise of his hands in surrender. “I’m done.”

I snort. “That’s because you’ve eaten it all!”

“Maybe,” he concedes with a wink.

“Just eat your real food now, weirdo.”

I don’t have to tell him twice. He scoops a giant piece of egg onto his fork and lifts it to his mouth, and I tuck into my own food. We really do have a long day ahead of us, and I have a lot of notes to take. This first article isn’t going to write itself, and unlucky

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