He flips the white cup over on the saucer. “Please.”
“Church this morning?” My heart thumps, waiting. Church is where I’d have been myself if it weren’t for Uncle Charlie.
“Yep.” He sits back, arms folded, as I pour.
“Where are you attending?”
He surprises me with the name of a quaint little church of one of the more formal denominations near the old courthouse square. “My church at home is a lot different, but since I’m stuck on the road these days, I’ve decided to try different things. In this case, the building intrigued me.”
I nod, pouring slowly. “It’s a pretty church. I saw it once years ago when it was decked out for the historical society’s Christmas tour of old homes and such.”
“The service was nice, but the architecture is stunning, and definitely worth a visit for the stained glass alone.”
Knox is into stained glass and architecture? Huh.
A ruckus heralds from the kitchen. “Umm…” I glance between my favorite customer and a crashing sound coming from behind the swinging door I’m increasingly coming to think of as a portal to…
Never mind. Not on a Sunday.
“Go ahead, Everly. You’ve got a job to do.”
I scurry off, wondering what manufactured calamity Buck is going to throw at me this time. I’ll bet he doesn’t give Uncle Charlie the kind of grief he dishes out to me. He’s been cranky all morning, ever since he discovered the latest batch of bacon delivered was a different brand than he’s been frying up for the last five years. I told him the switcheroo was the supplier’s doing, but he gave me a hot glare and insisted the issue never occurred when my uncle was at the helm.
This time, the complaint he sounds off on is that we’re low on eggs. He isn’t wrong, and a shortage of that particular staple is a true issue in a diner heavily reliant on the breakfast hour to make ends meet. The blame for this oversight does lie with me—but what can I say? I’ve been out of the restaurant loop for some time now.
Since the lunch hour is officially upon us, my gut says we can squeak through the day with what we have on hand. I do, however, placate the grumpy Gus as best I can and remove myself from his domain as quickly as feasible. He’s quite territorial abouthiskitchen, a fact I’m genuinely thankful for. The last thing I want to get sucked into is manning a greasy old grill.
A certain customer pulls me back to him as if a string was attached when I wasn’t looking and he’s using it to reel me in. I lift my pen and notepad. “Do you know what you want?”
Snow crystals dance once more, in the air and in his eyes, and there’s a pause before answering that makes my heart skip to Knox’s beat. “The special, please. Pot roast.”
I stick the back of my hand to my hip. “What, no pin the tail on the donkey today?”
His brows pucker at the center.
“You know…” Closing my eyes, I spin my finger and jab it at a pretend, midair menu.
Laughter vibrates his throat. “Um, no, no donkeys here.”
“Well, maybe one at the grill.”
Knox snort-laughs. “Did you just call your cook an—”
“Stop!” I chew my lip. “I guess this is what happens when I skip church.”
He chuckles in deep appreciation of my humor—and I feel seen. He sits back in the chair and the mood shifts with him. “You got a minute for a quick question?”
I glance about the frenzied dining room. For Knox, I have as many minutes as he wants. I mean, who’s going to tell? “Sure.”
His finger flicks the corner of the menu. “The church I visited is having a Christmas cantata on Friday night. Like I said, the place is beautiful this time of year, and I’m feeling suddenly festive…” His gaze drifts to the tree near the checkout counter. “I was wondering if you’d like to go with me?”
It is now official. I’ve tried the tired trope of girl pretending the guy who’s paying her attention isn’t actually interested and that said girl isn’t either, but I can’t spin Knox’s invitation in any other way that makes actual sense. More, why would I want it to?
Still, I chew my lip. “I have to work Friday.”
His smile isn’t irritated, but the shine has slipped. “I get it. I should have considered work. I wasn’t thinking.”
“Knox…”
