Page 24 of All My Broken Dreams

He winced to see how vulnerable she was, like a puppy that had been kicked. Eager for affection and terrified of it at the same time. Deacon had deep sympathy for the wounded; he felt like one of them at times. It was a sensation he didn’t like to examine too closely.

The owner of the cafe came to take their order seeing as it was too early for the regular staff.

“Madainn mhath, Deacon. How is it with you this wicked morn? I see you’ve got a friend with you. What d’ye been doing to her? She looks froze through. Coffee or will ye be having tea? I’ll bring a pot.”

“Tea for me, Jimmy, and the full Scottish. Robbie?”

“Coffee, thank you. What’s the full Scottish?”

“You sound American,” Jimmy observed with a grunt. “I’ll bring you the American plate. Reserved for tourists.”

Her cheeks flushed with color. “I’ll take tea and toast, thanks.”

“Bring her the full Scottish, Jimmy. Hold the haggis and black pudding.”

“As I said: the American plate,” muttered the cafe owner as he left to prepare their order.

Robbie inched out of her coat gingerly, favoring her shoulder. “This is nice,” she said, looking around. “Homey.”

“You won’t find it on a list of Places to Eat in Edinburgh. Jimmy keeps this place going on word of mouth and his prices are low. I usually have a bowl of porridge to start and a small fry up before I go to work. Today is a special occasion.”

“Because you have a guest.” She nodded at the owner who was behind the counter, cooking. “He seemed to be surprised to see you with a girl.”

“He needs to mind his own business but try telling him that.” Deacon leaned forward over the chipped formica table. “Look, I’m sorry I said you were on your own. I didn’t mean it. I’ll help you as much as I can, but you need to be realistic. Harry hasn’t shown his face around here in weeks. He’ll get in touch when he’s ready.”

“When will that be? I know you know something, Deacon. What are you keeping from me? Did he tell you anything about his family here?”

Alastair said he had a glower that would frighten the birds out of the sky. He tried to appear unbothered. “We never talked about anything. I barely knew the guy.”

Jimmy’s intrusion was welcome. “Coffee for the young lady and a pot of tea for his nibs. I’ll be back with your breakfasts in just a tick.”

“I don’t believe you,” she whispered when they were alone again. “Here’s what I think. I think Harry told you about his birth father. Maybe he swore you to secrecy and that’s why you keep warning me off.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.” She leaned over the table until they were almost nose-to-nose. He inhaled her scent. Her navy eyes flooded his mind with incoherent thoughts. “You can trust me, Deacon.”

“Robbie, you’ve got it all wrong.” He poured steaming tea into his mug.

“Then explain it to me. Explain why every time I bring up Harry’s name, you change.”

Deacon sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Change? You’ve known me for five minutes. How would you know if I’ve changed or not?”

“I have eyes in my head. You go from being an open, friendly guy to acting secretive and closed off. And since we’re on the subject–I’m a stranger to you, but you put me up for the night? You buy me breakfast, show me around campus? That’s not a thing people do for the sister of a guy they don’t know. Why are you being so nice to me? What’s in it for you?”

He looked away to escape her stare. “There’s nowt in it for me. I like you. That’s all.”

“You like me?”

He met her eyes. He had to know.

“Yes. I like you, Robbie.”

She didn’t speak. He could hear her breathing. The day was brightening outside the cafe windows and early morning students and faculty were beginning to straggle in for tea and one of Jimmy’s famous tattie scones. Voices swirled around him except the one he was living to hear.

“I like you too, Deacon.”

The moment held between them, staring into her eyes, trying to understand what was going on and how to stop whatever it was from happening. Her eyes locked with his and Deacon tried to stop, to think, to come up with a reason why he felt like this with her. There had to be a good reason. She was cute but he never felt like this around other cute girls; like an awkward monosyllabic oaf.

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