“Then I’ll bring some straight over while you take a gander at the menu.” Without waiting for an answer, Gene made his way to the archway that seemed to separate the kitchen from the dining area and almost immediately bickering between him and the growly-voiced man began to filter into the room, making me grin.
“Here you go,” Gene announced, all but flouncing across the black and white checkered floor to set a large mug topped with a pile of cinnamon-sprinkled whipped cream in front of me.
“Oh, wow.” I could feel my eyes widening like I was still a kid. “That looks amazing.”
“I know,” Gene said with a smug smile and a wink. “Now, what sounds good to eat?”
“I’m not sure,” I admitted with a sigh. “I’m a little scatterbrained today and I can’t seem to think straight.”
“Pregnancy brain, huh?” Gene gave me a knowing look that made me laugh.
“Pretty much.” I couldn’t help it if I sounded a bit sheepish.
“Well, maybe I can help.” Gene settled into the seat across from me. “What’s your favorite food?”
Before I could answer, a familiar voice came from behind me. “Sausage lasagna, a green salad with Italian dressing, and garlic bread.”
I nearly upset my chair when I spun around to find Sylas lounging against the wall by the door, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans.
Gene raised a perfectly shaped brow at Sylas and turned back to me without greeting him. “I actually can work with that, if he’s right.”
I sighed and sunk down in my chair. “Honestly, that would be amazing.”
Gene nodded and glanced back at Sylas. “You want me to stay? Pinky can come out to take the order.”
Pinky? As far as I could tell it was just him and Growly Voice working. Did that make Growly Voice Pinky? I know it’s shallow, but that thought kind of blew my mind.
Realizing he was still waiting for an answer, I shook my head. “No, it’s okay. He wouldn’t hurt me.” Not physically, anyway.
Gene gave me a skeptical look but stood and turned to Sylas. “You eating?”
“I’ll have what he’s having, please,” Sylas said politely. “Except for the cup of candy. Just water, please.”
Gene huffed at the joke about the sweet cider but swept away to the kitchen where he could clearly be heard calling out our order. He returned a moment later with a tall glass of ice water and then promptly disappeared again, leaving us alone.
Sylas stayed where he was, silently watching me with sad eyes until I finally gave in with a sigh. “As long as you’re here, you might as well sit down.”
Chapter Forty-Five
Sylas
Catching the sapphire paint of Paul’s SUV shimmering in the parking lot of a roadside diner was a stroke of luck that I almost didn’t believe. Flying down the next off ramp and making a U-turn, I fully expected to pull up and have it fade into nothing like a mirage in the desert.
It didn’t.
When I slipped inside, neither Paul nor the waiter noticed me as I eased the door closed. I could see the tension in the way that Paul held his body, hear the strain in his voice as he spoke. Worst of all, when he realized I was there and turned to face me, I could see the pain and despair clouding his eyes and I knew I was the one responsible for it being there.
Accepting Paul’s lackluster invitation to join him at the dated Formica table, I crossed the room quickly before he had a chance to change his mind.
“Why are you here, Sylas?”
I barely held back a wince at the less than welcoming words. “You,” I blurted out without thinking. “I mean, I need to keep you safe,” I corrected quickly. “The Senator and his jerkwad cohorts are still at large. You shouldn’t be out alone.”
“Oh.” Paul lowered his eyes to the table and reached for his cup, licking at the whipped cream that was starting to melt. “Thanks for telling me. I’m headed somewhere safe and he won’t know I left you, so that should be okay without me taking up any more of your time.”
“What are you talking about?” I shook my head in frustration. “When did I ever say helping you was an inconvenience?”
“You didn’t need to,” he murmured. “I think being so desperate to avoid me that you slept on a lawn chair outside kind of made it clear.” Paul stopped talking to smile at the waiter when he set down a bowl of crisp salad greens. “That looks great, thank you.”
