“I think we should head back to the hotel,” he said, adjusting a strap. “Drop this stuff off before we end up shopping for a second suitcase.”
“Agreed,” Claire laughed. “But I’m not apologizing. You offered.”
“I did. And now I’m invested.”
Back at the hotel, they barely had time to let the room door click shut before they turned right back around and headed out again—this time on a mission that mattered: food.
They walked a few blocks, rounding the same boutique corner they’d passed earlier. The old diner Jaxon remembered was now glowing under string lights, a line stretched along the brick exterior.
Claire leaned into him, grinning. “You were right. This place is packed.”
“Best sign there is.”
It took fifteen minutes to get seated. The booth was small, the table slightly wobbly, and the menu was a laminated relic from another decade—but it was perfect.
When the waitress returned with their drinks, she pulled out her check pad. “What can I get for you two?”
“I’ll take the house burger, all the way, fries,” Jaxon said, tapping the handwritten “Today’s Special” taped to the salt shaker.
Claire narrowed her eyes. “What’s the house burger?”
“Double patty, everything on it, fries or rings,” the waitress said. “And sweetie, those patties are a quarter-pound each.”
Claire raised a brow. “Single patty. Onion rings. Let’s not die today.”
“Coming right up,” the waitress smiled, collecting the menus.
Claire leaned in. “Good call. The line’s still out the door.”
“I heard her tell someone the wait’s up to thirty minutes.”
“Always trust a place that looks like it could collapse and still has a crowd,” Jaxon said, eyes scanning the walls. “You can feel the history in buildings like this. Like the flavor’s soaked into the drywall.”
Claire snorted. “Jesus. Are you in love with this diner already?”
“Not yet. But I have high hopes. The waitress’ shirt says Serving Denver Proudly Since 1974. That’s not a flex unless you’ve got the seasoning to back it up.”
“Now I have to know.”
“Watch,” he said, nodding toward a passing plate. “You see that? That’s a hand-patted burger. No machine ever touched that meat.”
“You can tell that from a glance?”
“Food is the one relationship I’ve never messed up.”
She smirked. “We’ll see about that.”
The burgers arrived like royalty.
Claire’s single was big enough to qualify as a crime in some states. Jaxon’s double looked like it needed its own seatbelt.
He eyed it. Strategized.
Claire watched, amused.
“You gonna ask for a hard hat, or just dive in?”
He finally went for it. The moment he took the first bite, he groaned—a sound so guttural it made Claire’s stomach growl again.
