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She turned to the window display before he saw her blush. “How about I give you a minute to look over the menu?”

When he didn’t respond right away, she wondered what it would take to put a smile on his face.

Challenge accepted.

Chapter Three

Damon was enduring a divine test. That was the only explanation he could conjure for encountering his angel twice in one day.

However, now she was avoiding him. He didn’t know what to say to bring her attention back to him, but he wanted her focus. Wanted to return to those eyes so blue, it would take at least three different shades to do their description justice.

Problem was, Damon hadn’t cared about the color of anyone’s eyes in so long, he wasn’t sure where to start. A compliment? Or, was it too soon? His instincts urged him to wrap her in his arms and protect her from anything and everything.

He probably shouldn’t say that out loud, though.

“The cafe likes to have nice display window to match the season or holiday. You happened to arrive in town between design, but it’s not usually plain like this.” She was a chatty thing. Damon could listen to her talk all day and fall asleep to it at night. “Do you need any help with the menu? Everything is good, but we’re known for our salads and our cakes. They come from this cute little bakery in the next town over.”

All Damon could manage was yet another grunt. She was opening a ladder now. Not a stepstool but an honest to God ladder. Was she planning to climb up there if she were still alone in this diner?

“In the morning, we also have a barista to make all the fancy coffees. We do a pretty decent morning rush. I’m no good on the machine, though. Never could get the hang of the damn thing.”

Damon was stalking towards her before his conscious mind realized he was out of his booth. “Don’t do that.”

“What are you doing?” She paused with one of those perfect legs poised above the bottom step of the ladder.

“Let me climb up there. You hand me the stuff. I’ll hang it for you.”

“Are you grumping at me again? That’s twice in one day, if you’re keeping count.” She lowered her leg but kept one hand on the ladder, a mirror to his hand gripping the opposite side.

Damon was keeping count.

Clearing his throat, he tried to remember his manners. The tightening of his chest at the thought of her climbing that ladder was easing, now that both her feet were safely on the ground. “I don’t want you falling. Let me help you.” She studied him for a moment, so he added, “please?”

Sighing, she acquiesced. “Okay, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to have a little help.” She rifled through one of the boxes and pulled out a garland of silk fall leaves. “Let’s start at the top and work our way down.”

Something settled within Damon. He didn’t just like that he was eliminating the danger of a fall. Helping her felt satisfying in a way he hadn’t experienced in a long time.

“Give me three grunts when you have the end looped over that hook.” He frowned down at her, but her smile was dazzling up at him. “You seem to prefer communication via grunt, so I’m trying to speak your language here, Grumpy.”

“I can talk.” It’s just hard to form words around you.

“Yet to be established. I think your default settings are ‘scowl’ and ‘grunt’. You might throw in a word or two for variety, but you keep regressing to baseline.”

Damon held his hand out for the next decoration to hang. He should say something witty or clever to her, be friendly. Should he tell her she looks pretty with her hair down like that? Ask her a question and get to know her better?

“See what I mean? You’re scowling at me again. You might be the first person I’ve met who could hold both a scowl and this glittery pumpkin.” She handed him a styrofoam pumpkin covered in orange glitter. “Would it change your stance to know that a kindergartener applied that glitter?”

That would explain the inconsistency of the glitter’s application. Setting it on the display shelf, he hoped none of that orange would stick to him.

“Oh, darn. Looks like glitter pumpkin strikes again. Oops.” Her voice deadpanned as she beamed an unrepentant smile. She batted her eyelashes at him comically, and he couldn’t resist reaching for her. “Nuh-uh, big guy. You keep that hand away from me.” She stepped back and he looked down at his orange palm.

Acting on instinct, he rubbed his hand on his shirt, but the flannel just grabbed the orange glitter even better than his palm did. Rubbing only made it worse. Orange twinkles caught the light from across the breast of his button down, the thighs of his jeans, and now both hands. “You did this on purpose.”

“You can’t prove that. The pumpkin did have to go on that shelf. Someone had to take the hit.” She dropped her pretense of innocence to smirk at him, smug in her success. “Last year, I was new in town and they asked me to put the Glitterkin up. That’s what Lina calls it. It’s a bit of a ritual to make the newest hire do it. Don’t grump too hard. Really, you’re saving me. I’m still the newest hire on staff, so you’re taking the hit for me.”

He’d take any hit for her. Despite just meeting her earlier that day, something in his soul recognized something in her. Looking into her twinkling, mischievous eyes felt like returning home for the first time.

“Can I make reparations with pie?”