Page 51 of Not Your Ordinary Shifter

Maybe he was just being a coward, but he’d girded his loins, whatever that meant, and made the trip. If it took him just a little while longer to actually face everyone… well, they could wait. At least he’d be doing it with something in his stomach.

The family-style restaurant was new since the last time he’d been home. Or rather, the name and décor were new. The same building had hosted several different incarnations during his lifetime, and the last time he’d been through the doors, Italian had been the theme.

Now, it seemed to be a more generic American nostalgia theme. The walls were covered with old photos of the town and random kitschy antiques (probably knock-offs), but it did put out a homey vibe.

A sign at the host stand directed him to seat himself, so he chose a booth in the back with a good view of all the tables. Maybe he’d see someone he knew. It had been a good ten years since he’d lived in town, but things didn’t change much. He was willing to bet half the kids he went to school with had fled first chance they got—as he had, but that still left the other half.

Either it was a slow time, or the restaurant wasn’t doing well, because most of the tables were empty. And those that weren’t seemed to hold tourist types; people just passing through most likely, and no one he recognized. It was probably for the best anyway.

Jacob grabbed a menu from the rack on the table and flipped it open, eyes sweeping down the page with the efficiency of someone who was used to eating out on a regular basis. He wasn’t picky luckily and could usually find something to eat no matter where he was.

The food matched the American theme, mostly burgers and wings, with a scattering of other foods. He could see wherethey’d tried to elevate the offerings by throwing in some higher-priced entrees. But if he was going to have filet mignon, he would go to a steakhouse.

He was a firm believer in letting a restaurant stick to its strengths, and not trying to push his order out of its comfort zone. When he went to an IHOP he got breakfast. When he came to a place like this… he got a bacon burger with fries.

It generally ended better that way, so when the waitress approached to take his order, he was ready to go. He looked up from the menu, mouth already opening to speak… and then stopped short.

The waitress, whose nametag read Hilda, of all things, was shockingly beautiful. Not in a conventional way. Not even in a way he could explain. She was just… radiating something.

There was a soft muted glow around her. Her brown hair seemed to shine like nothing he’d seen outside of a shampoo commercial. Her eyes were an unusually clear and bright blue that drew his attention and locked it in place, while his mouth continued to hang open.

Her skin?—

“Sir? Are you okay? Sir?”

From the exasperated tone it was clear she’d been trying to talk to him for a while, and he’d been too blindsided by her appearance to hear her. He dragged in a shuddering breath and forced words out. “Sorry, what?”

“I asked if you wanted a drink,” she said, staring at him with those gorgeous azure eyes. “Some coffee? Soda?”

“Right, yeah. A drink. Sure.” She waited a few moments, looking expectant, until he realized she needed more information. It was just so suddenly hard to think. “Sorry, coffee please. Cream and sugar.”

Maybe the caffeine would help because something was definitely wrong with his brain. He couldn’t figure out whatwas happening, and the woman had to think he was stoned or something. But every time he looked at her something misfired in his head, and he couldn’t think.

He watched her walk away with an intensity that probably looked creepy, but he couldn’t help it. It wasn’t that her ass was sexy, though it was. Or that her walk was seductive—it wasn’t. She walked like someone whose feet hurt, and there was a lace dangling from one raggedy old sneaker.

It was just that she pulled his gaze like a siren until she disappeared around the corner, and then, suddenly, the world snapped back into place. It was such an abrupt transition that he jerked in his seat, and his head hit the back of the booth with a thump.

“What the fuck was that…” he wondered out loud. Even his voice was off. It sounded gravelly, and not like him at all. He grabbed for the water she’d left on the table and took one long gulp after another until it was empty.

He was still thirsty, but now that she was out of sight his brain was starting to work again. The rest of his body was still malfunctioning, but his thoughts, at least, were in order. He dried his sweaty palms on his jeans and tried to ignore the way his heart was rattling around in his chest.

She was beautiful, insanely beautiful. Except… when he pictured her in his head, he couldn’t see why he’d had that impression. Oh, she was definitely pretty in a normal girl-next-door kind of way. She was even his type, but he’d never been so awestruck in his life, and he couldn’t understand why.

He was still trying to figure out what was going on when she returned with a pot of coffee and a carafe of milk. “The pot just finished, so it will be nice and fresh,” she said, smiling as she flipped the cup in front of him over, and filled it.

His memory was obviously broken too. Now that she was back at the table, he was once again struck by how gorgeous shewas. There was that glow, that shine, that magnetic attraction that pulled at him.

“Your name is Hilda?” he blurted. If it came out sounding incredulous… well, that was because he really couldn’t connect that name to such a beautiful woman.

She looked startled and then laughed. “No. It’s Elizabeth—Lizzy, actually. My manager has a sense of humor. If we forget our nametag, she loans us a random one with deliberately weird names on them.” She looked down and grinned ruefully. “Could have been worse. There’s one in the box that says Hortensia.”

He couldn’t help laughing, partly in relief that Hilda wasn’t her real name. Lizzy. Lizzy didn’t suit her either, but it was so much better than Hilda. “Seems like good motivation not to forget your nametag.”

“You’d think.” The way she rolled her eyes seemed to indicate it was an ongoing problem. “Anyway, ready to order?”

Unfortunately he’d gotten fixated on her face and tuned out again. Even when she was rolling her eyes, they were beautiful.

“Sir? Do you need a minute? I can come back.”

---