Page 41 of Protected By the Mountain Man

On the fact that Livy needed us to be strong and not lost in whatever this was.

It was a damn relief when I finally pulled up to the diner. Parking a little way down the street gave me a moment to collect myself before we walked down Main Street together, under the watchful eyes of Millie's neon sign.

“Hope you're hungry,” I said, the smalltalk stilted and awkward.

“Starving,” she replied.

We pushed through the door, and I could feel it immediately—the shift in the atmosphere as heads turned and eyes narrowed. I felt the weight of their stares, the silent questions hanging in the air. I’m sure they were all wondering what we were doing together; Kat Martin and the guy she used to hate.

“Let 'em talk,” I muttered.

“Nothing else to do,” Kat whispered back.

I led her to a booth tucked away in the back corner, a pathetic attempt at privacy, and we slid into the worn red vinyl seats. Betty was on us in an instant, menus in hand and a smile on her face. She threw me a wink that might have been innocent in another life. I felt the heat crawl up my neck as Kat caught it, too—a smirk teasing the corners of her lips.

“Will it be the usual?” Betty asked, her pen poised over her notepad.

“Sure,” I managed, my voice gruffer than I intended. “And coffee, black.”

“Make mine an iced tea, thanks,” Kat chimed in, her eyes still dancing with silent laughter at my expense. “And my usual burger. I don’t think we need menus.”

“Coming right up,” Betty said before bustling off, leaving us in a bubble of silence.

I could feel Kat looking at me. I glanced down at my hands, trying to think of something—anything—that wouldn't end up with me blurting out how much I wanted her.

“Shadow's doing better.” Kat broke the silence, thank God. “He let me brush him down today without a fuss.”

“That's good news.” I nodded.

Then…silence again.

Damn it.

“Didn't know if you wanted something…back at the house,” she said, finally breaking the silence. Her voice held this cautious note, like she was walking on the edge of something fragile.

I glanced around. The diner wasn't exactly busy, but there were a few people watching us. None within earshot…I hoped.

“Kat,” I began, leaning forward, my voice low, “I don't expect anything.”

It was half true. I didn’t expect anything, I just wanted it.

Badly.

“Okay.” She shrugged, but her eyes didn't quite meet mine, and I caught a flicker of disappointment there.

“Look,” I said, unable to stop myself, “do you want me to sit here and lie? Pretend you're not on my mind?”

“Of course not,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just…”

Our eyes locked, and for a moment, it was like we were the only two people in the world. She bit her lip, and something primal inside me stirred.

She wanted me to want her.

I wasn’t just going to let that slide.

“I've been thinking about you,” I went on. The way she looked at me then—like she was starving and I was the only meal for miles—it nearly did me in. “Every damn night, Kat. Wishing you were in my bed, thinking of a thousand more things I want to do with you. Things I can’t talk about in public?—”

Betty bustled back to our table, plates in hand, breaking the spell.

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