When I reach the booth, I suck in a breath and squeeze onto the dark red vinyl seat. It’s way too cramped for a giant like me: the table digs into my stomach, my legs bending awkwardly against the seat opposite. I’d be more comfortable at one of the regular tables near the back, but from here I get a clear view of the counter, and that’s where Josie spends most of her time.
I always order the same thing, but I look at the menu anyway, keeping my gaze down as Josie approaches. Her shoes click-clack against the black-and-white linoleum, then she stops beside my booth, a blur in my peripheral vision. Even when I’m sitting down, she’s still smaller than me.
Fuck, she’s so perfect.
All five-foot-nothing of her.
“Good morning!” she says brightly in that honey-sweet voice. “Do you want the usual?”
It drives me crazy when she’s this close. The diner feels like it’s pressing in on all sides, trapping me and Josie in the middle
“Yeah. Thanks.”
My voice is a hoarse grunt, but it’s all I can manage, and my gaze slides from the menu to the speckled, laminate table as I try to remember how to breathe. I still don’t meet Josie’s eye. Hell, I never do. I know that if I let myself stare, I won’t be able to stop.
“Perfect,” she says. “So that’s one Creekside Special with eggs over easy, an extra hash brown, and a strong black coffee. Anything else?”
“That’s it.”
“Coming right up!”
“Thanks,” I mutter.
I catch her scent as she drifts back toward the counter—like pancakes and syrup—and I drag an agitated hand over my face.
Fuck, why do I have to torture myself like this?
Everything in me screams that this girl should be mine. I felt it the second I laid eyes on her—the second she walked up to my booth and asked for my order that first morning at the diner.
But it doesn’t matter.
Because I know damn well that Josie would never want a man like me.
She’s too young. Too beautiful. I’m twenty years older than her, a lumbering beast of a man: inked, bearded, and intimidating. Hell, I was six-feet tall by the time I was twelve, towering over the other kids. Big Brewer. Now I’m pushing seven feet, and life has taken its toll since my youth. The military left scars, mental and physical, and years of labor in the forest have made me bigger and brawnier than ever, molding me into a giant of a man.
Amonsterof a man.
The thought curdles in my stomach like sour milk. It’s torture, wanting Josie this badly and knowing she’ll never be mine. But I can’t stop myself coming to this damn diner every morning just to be near her. The sound of her voice, a snatched glance when she’s not looking—it’s all I’ve got.
There’s nothing else I can do.
Nothing but sit, watch, and ache for her.
2
JOSIE
It’s nearlyopening time at Creekside Diner, and I’m standing on a wobbly stepladder, pulling down leftover decorations from Valentine’s Day. I untangle a string of heart-shaped fairy lights, stuffing them in a box alongside a fake rose bouquet and red ribbons, using a little more force than necessary.
Another Valentine’s Day has come and gone, and I’m still single.
Heck, I’ve been single for all the twenty-two Valentine’s Days I’ve been alive, so I guess it’s nothing new—but I used to have my best friend Savannah to sympathize. It was different when we were singletogether. We used to spend Valentine’s Day at my apartment watching romcoms, eating chocolate, and having a blast. But now she’s all loved up with Clay Benson—her new lumberjack boyfriend—and I’m the last single pringle in the tube.
Despite my loneliness, I’m so happy for Savannah. She’s crazy about Clay, and I’m thrilled she got her Benson brother. I just wish I could getmyBenson brother too.
Brewer Benson.
I’ve been obsessing over Clay’s brother ever since he first came to the diner last month, striding through the door likea walking fantasy. He towered over everyone—a tattooed giant with eyes like storm clouds—and I had to grip the counter to stop myself from falling over. Now he comes here for breakfast every morning, and Ilivefor it, like a pathetic little house plant pining for the sun.
