“Hi, sweet peas. Welcome to The Porch. What can I get ya started with this morning?” the kind woman with the name tag—Betty—asks us.
I turn to face her. “That depends, Betty. What do you recommend?”
She smiles wide, pretty red lips and short brown curls enhancing the warmth of her welcome. “Well, how hungry are ya?”
“Your girl can eat. I can promise you that,” I tell her, feeling my stomach growl simultaneously. “Something with lots of protein.”
I can sense Easton’s eyes on me, like once again, he questions what he got himself into. One minute I’m stuffing my mouth with Reese’s, and the next, requesting a hearty meal.
Betty answers me with certainty, “In that case, I recommend Hershall’s special. Three eggs however you prefer, one slice of ham, half cut of sirloin, bacon or sausage, a side of our famous loaded grits, and biscuits or sourdough bread.”
I groan, already tasting it. “Round ’em up, Betty. I’ll take my eggs scrambled with extra cheese and bacon—extra crispy. I intend to leave here full. Oooh, and an orange juice, please and thank you.”
She nods with a grin, writing down my order before turning to Easton for his. “And what about you, sir?”
“I’ll take what she’s having, but with a coffee. Black. Thanks.”
“You got it. I’ll get those drinks started for ya.”
Watching her retreat, I waste no time digging further with the stranger in front of me. “So, continue.”
“Continue what?” he deadpans.
I tilt my head. “Oh, don’t play that shit. You called me lost, remember?”
“Ah. Sorry. Got distracted or maybe just fell in love hearing you order like a fucking boss, Meadows. Hell, I don’t know.” He shakes his head, remembering our conversation from five minutes ago.
I hear nothing but the fluster in his voice, and pride fills me. “Oh, we’re going to have so much fun together.”
His round caramel eyes pin me. “That’s what I’m worried about.”
I don’t know what he means by that, and I don’t have time to pry further before he continues. “Yeah. You’re lost. The airport was a dead giveaway. And I’m not just talking about the fact you had nowhere to go.”
I’m not oblivious to the fact that I never settle. But lost? I’m not sure what to think about that. That’s probably why I’m so put off by the name.
It’s been eating at me since yesterday.
“No one has ever called me that before.”
“Maybe because they know you. Sometimes things are more clear in the eyes of a stranger.” He’s very intuitive. Mature and seasoned.
“Is that so?” I question. “I guess I could say the same thing about you.”
“And what’s that?”
Despite Easton being hard to read, especially with me being an open book, he’s captivating. It might be the fact that he comes off as a challenge. I’m so used to men pursuing me. Having a mutual need to get off, use each other, and carry on.
But Easton reads me. It’s clear he doesn’t want to fuck me, and I don’t know what to do with that either. It should make me happy, but instead I find it challenges me more.
“You’re guarded. Like someone hurt you, or you hurt them. Not sure which.”
A sharp hiss seeps from his lips, his eyes bulging in what looks like worry. But no words leave him just yet. I have an inkling I hit the nail on the head.
“That’s possible. Or maybe I’m just not a people person like you are.”
I tilt my head, skeptical of his reasoning. “No…no. I’m not buying that. I think you’ve got some secrets, and for some strange reason, my heart hurts for you. I couldn’t tell you one important thing about your life or who you are, but I know I want to defend you. Not sure how yet, but I do. And between you and me, that’s the farthest thing from my usual character.”
Maybe now will be the moment he tells me why he’s really here.
