Page 5 of Grave Games

“I’m no hero,” Romeo muttered, gripping my hands tight before cautiously letting them go, as if fearing they’d fall off if he moved too fast. “I was just in the right place at the right time.”

“Sometimes that’s all that’s needed.” Dubya took Romeo’s hand and pumped it sincerely in both of his. “I haven’t had a chance to thank you for looking out for Shiloh, Mr. uh… Romeo?”

“Romeo’ll do.”

“Right. Romeo. Sweet.” Looking like he’d never talked to a cool kid in his life, Dubya stood straighter and shot me a glance that was almost human. “Shiloh’s part of the family here, so believe me when I say we’re all grateful to you for being there for her tonight. Crazy how anyone would be out in this weather trying to mug somebody. I still can’t believe something like that happened. I mean, it’s a freaking blizzard out there. Who mugs in a blizzard?”

“It takes all kinds, I guess.” Shrugging like he couldn’t care less, Romeo locked his gaze on me like I was the only one in the room. “How’re you holding up? Do you need me to take you to the hospital for that frostbite, or any other injuries you’ve got that I don’t know about?”

“I’m fine.” It would take a heck of a lot more than a parka-wearing grizzly bear to get the better of me, or so I told myself while various aches and pains tried to let themselves be known. “I just want to go home. So, if I could have my keys…?”

He looked at me for a long moment, then nodded once before fishing them out of his pocket. But the moment I grasped them he took hold of my hand and held it—not hard, but I instinctively knew my hand belonged to him until he deemed otherwise. “My truck’s been de-iced, while yours is still buried in snow. My engine’s warmed up, and the heater’s blowing some nice hot air to keep things comfortable. Let me take you home.”

Home.

That word spawned a painful ache in my chest, because not too long ago I’d feared I’d never see my little apartment again. Not to mention the task of clearing off all the snow and ice currently encasing my pickup made my tender hands throb, so that made my decision an easy one. I gave him a small nod and a smile that felt as tired as I suddenly was, and I turned to pick up my coat.

“Thank you, Romeo. Again. I promise I’ll get my truck out of here tomorrow, Dubya,” I added before he could even think about busting my chops. “Right now, I just want to go home.”

Dubya hesitated before shooting Romeo a wary glance. “I… didn’t say a word.”

“I don’t know if your hands will have enough dexterity to handle driving tomorrow, and I can only imagine what a train wreck you’ll be trying to juggle plates.” Romeo’s dubious gaze went from my pink hands to Dubya. “You know she’s going to be a walking catastrophe tomorrow, right?”

I gasped out loud. “I’ll have you know I’ve never dropped a plate in all the years I’ve worked here!”

“Right. And how many times have you had frostbite?”

I stared at my hands and tried to touch each finger to my thumb. Nothing worked. “Um…”

“Take tomorrow off,” Dubya said with a generous air that I hadn’t thought he was capable of. “Just make sure you take good care of those hands.”

“Let me walk you guys out.” Holding me back on the excuse of putting on our coats together, Heather shot a quick glance at Romeo as he headed for the front of the restaurant. “Shiloh, I need to remind you of something. Something important.”

“What?”

“Some heroes don’t wear capes.”

I also glanced toward Romeo, then fumbled at the coat’s fastenings with my nearly useless hands. Honestly, when the heck were they going to start following commands to move? “He was pretty amazing, dealing with that mugger, I’ll give you that.”

“Yeah, but what I’m talking about is something totally different. When did that big guy over there finish his meal and leave?”

“Um.” I frowned and turned to stare at the empty booth where Romeo had sat plowing through his club sandwich and fries with brown gravy. It was a little alarming how completely I could remember every last detail of him in that moment. “A couple hours ago, I guess. His ticket would have the exact time, if you need it.”

“A couple hours will do, because a couple hours tells me all I need to know. And it should tell you all that you need to know, too.”

I stared at her. “What are you talking about?”

“Shiloh, think. That gorgeous specimen of a man sat out there in a blizzard and waited hours for you to leave the restaurant.” Heather said the words in the same tone one might say, “You just won the lottery.” “Don’t you see? He lefthoursago. So why isn’t he home safe and sound, polishing the chrome on his Harley or whatever? What’s he still doing here?”

I tilted my head just enough to see Romeo out of the corner of my eye. “I don’t know.”

“I’ll tell you what he’s still doing here,” Heather muttered, sounding oddly triumphant. “He’s looking out for you, his favorite little waitress that’s got him in a spin. I’ll bet tomorrow’s tips that he was worried about you getting home in this horrible weather, so after he left here, he hunkered down in his truck and went into protective mode. Granted, he got more than he bargained for when that mugger showed up, but that’s okay, because heroes like him take a thing like a mugging all in stride. That’s why he sprang into action like it was just another day ending in Y. And that’s why I say some heroes don’t wear capes. Some of them wear biker jackets.”

“I guess sometimes they do,” I murmured faintly while my attention swung back to Romeo just in time for him to turn around and lock gazes with me, one hand resting on the diner door’s push-bar handle.

Without warning, my heart tripped over itself.

Whoa.

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