Our gazes met. His eyes were the same shade of light brown that I remembered. Eyes that haunted my dreams and fed my waking fantasies. I’d never met anyone with that exact shade.
“Don’t you think it’s a little chilly?” He pretended to shiver. “I was thinking maybe a coffee with dinner or a hot chocolate with dessert.”
“Coffee? This late?”
He frowned. “It’s only six. On a Saturday night.”
“Oh.” Right. Because he didn’t have to get up at some ungodly hour to take care of the goats.
“But you have a point about caffeine. I live on the stuff. Adele is a night owl, and I do my best to be in the office before Shawmost days. I always manage to get some sleep, but I do enjoy my weekend mornings when I get to sleep in.” He eyed me. “I suppose you don’t get to sleep in on the farm?”
“Nah, not really. But I always was an early bird.” Which was true. He’d been what I termed anormalperson—up at a reasonable hour and to bed the same. Unless he was doing a theater production. Then he was at the theater till all hours of the night rehearsing and then show times.
I’d never missed a performance. Not a single one.
He’d walked away from all that. Now I knew why.
“What can I get you guys?” Sarabeth put two glasses of water before us.
I hadn’t even looked at the menu. I gestured for Anderson to go first.
“Okay, I have to try the Blue Moon shake. Adele’s going to lose her mind if it’s as good as it looks.”
Sarabeth grinned. “Even better. You getting something to eat?”
“I’ll have the spicy Cajun chicken burger. Side of Caesar.”
“Great.” She pivoted to me.
“I’ll have the classic cherry milkshake.”
“Oh, good choice.” Anderson grinned. “One of my favorites.”
Sarabeth chuckled. “You love all of them.”
“Hey, black licorice is disgusting.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Black licorice. Oh, I love—”
“No goodnight kiss if you do that. I mean, gross.” He screwed up his face. Then, as if realizing what he’d just said, his cheeks turned an interesting shade of pink.
“Cherry it is.” Sarabeth tried to hide a smile—and totally failed. “Dinner?”
“Well, a little odd, but can I get the mushroom and cheese omelet?”
“Sure.” She cocked her head. “Why odd?”
“Well, an omelet for dinner.”
“Honey, one of my favorite customers orders meatloaf for breakfast. We’re open twenty-four hours, and you never know what they’ve just done when someone arrives. For all I know, you work the night shift and this is your breakfast.” She snagged the menus. “Anything else?”
We shook our heads.
“But I reserve the right to order dessert.” Anderson spoke to Sarabeth, but his gaze was on me. “Possibly to share.”
“Chocolate lava cake?”
His gaze shot to the server. “You know me too well.”
