Carla returned with a cup of coffee and a plate with Jinx’s usual order of pancakes and bacon. “Here you go, Jinx. Let me know if either of you needs anything.”
“I’m good for now,” Jinx replied.
Viking cut a huge bite off of his stack without responding, which was his answer.
They ate in companionable silence for a while, and then she set her fork down, sighing.
“I wanted to thank you again for last night. I...I wasn’t very gracious for the way you helped handle the situation.”
He sat back, resting his hands on his flat abdomen. Her words surprised him. “You don’t have to thank me, Jinx. I only did what any decent human being would or should’ve done.”
She shook her head. “That’s bullshit, and you know it. Not very many people would stick their neck out the way you did, especially when they’re outnumbered the way you were. If you come back in, while I’m working, the first round is on me.”
“Mmm, what if I wanted top-shelf liquor?” he asked, wagging his brows.
Jinx settled into the booth, taking in his expression like she was seeing if he was being serious. “Even if you wanted a double shot of the most expensive,” she agreed.
Another waitress, this one named Carly, dropped off their checks without saying a word. He grabbed them both before Jinx could, pulling out his wallet and paying for their meals. The sexy little bartender raised her hand, dropping it as he quirked a brow.
“I’ll leave the tip,” she said.
“I don’t have anything smaller than a fifty.” He didn’t say anything else, figuring she would try to argue if he tried to point out his reasoning.
“Do you always get your way?” she asked.
He thought about how he’d spent his morning and wished he’d gotten his way. If he had, he’d been sitting with his little girl. Viking shook off the morose memories, trying to bury them as effectively as he’d buried his child.
“What’re you doing for the rest of the day?” he asked.
“Well, it’s Christmas, so I thought I’d clean my house before heading to the bar. We don’t expect it to be too busy, but around here, you never know.”
He tilted his head to the side, trying to gauge whether she was sad or lonely at the prospect ofspending the holiday alone. “Why are you not with family or friends today?”
The moment the question left his mouth, he wanted to call it back. Her shoulders stiffened, and her eyes went down to the table. “I best be heading out. Thank you for breakfast. Don’t forget about the free drink.”
He reached for her hands before she could escape from the booth. “Hey. I’m sorry. I have no right to pry into your personal life like that. Hell, who the fuck am I to ask shit when I’m sitting here all alone looking like the poster boy for losers?”
She let out a little laugh, breaking the sober spell that fell over them. “I don’t have any family. My friends, whom you met last night, invited me to spend the day with them, but I didn’t feel like...peopling today.”
“I get that, except I have a big ass family who would slit my throat if I didn’t show up at some point today. I actually had breakfast with them earlier. My mama gets up at the crack of dawn to cook for all of us. It’s been her thing since forever.” He didn’t know why he felt like sharing parts of his life with Jinx seemed right, but it did.
“That sounds nice. Do all of you get up and eat together, or is there a rule that if you don’t, you can’t eat until the next meal?” Jinx’s hands rested on the table, clenching and unclenching.
Viking covered her small fists with his. “Whoever wants to eat first thing, eats, and if you sleep in, then you’re free to fix yourself something, warm up leftovers, or whatever. My mama has an open kitchen rule. As long as you clean up after yourself, she doesn’t give a shit. The only rule that is hard and fast in the house is you don’t touch someone else’s leftovers.”
“Explain,” she said, raising her brows.
“If you go out to dinner and don’t finish your meal, the leftovers are considered protected. I always finish mine. Basically, if you and I were out to dinner and you didn’t finish yours and got a box to take home, that’s off-limits unless you say otherwise. If anyone touches your leftovers without express permission, there will be hell to pay.” He gave her a slight squeeze on the hands. “One time, my baby brother ate my sister’s leftover ravioli she’d gotten from Olive Garden. Let me tell you, it was as if the world had crumbled. He knew the rules but choseviolence that day. Solange, that’s my sister, she hasn’t forgotten or completely forgiven Samson to this day.”
She tossed her head back, laughing so hard he lost contact with her small hands. Viking watched her, entranced by her pure joy and beauty. “Are you laughing at me, woman?”
Jinx wiped her eyes, sucking in a few gasps. “I’m sorry, but that is funny. I’ve never—sorry, I don’t mean to laugh at your family,” she said, sobering.
Viking reached for her hands again. “No, don’t do that. I love hearing you laugh. Hell, it’s fucking funny. If you’d actually have seen my brother groveling as Solange berated him, you’d have laughed. Samson isn’t as big as me, but our sister is a tiny little thing like you. He was literally on his knees, fearing what she’d do to repay him. Every day, he would beg her to just get it over with. It was the waiting that was driving him nuts.”
“What did she do?”
“Samson is one of those people who has a thing about his algorithms. He spent forever curating it to his exact tastes. The motherfucker would drone onand on about the shit. Honestly, I don’t have the patience or give a fuck about any of that. I have the playlists that I listen to, and I’m good. Samson is a techy who is all about that kind of stuff. Anyway, Solange waited until he was out of town one weekend and went over to his place. She spent hours on his computer, his tablet, hell, I think she even hit up Amazon and shit, clicking on things, changing his algorithm. He came back to find his carefully curated shit now spanned makeup tutorials, hair shit, how to get over an ex-boyfriend, and all kinds of feminine guru things. There were a shitton of other things, but you get the idea.”
