Page 19 of Knight's Fall

Sissy walked away before Courtlyn could retort. Courtlyn rolled her eyes with a sigh. She checked her dishes that were in progress, and seeing they were all fine, she carried the breakfast out of the kitchen and to the counter. The man was watching her as she approached, and she smiled as she placed the plate in front of him.

“Egg white omelet, turkey bacon, and wheat toast. Is there anything else you need?”

He folded the newspaper slowly and placed it on the counter. He picked up his fork, cut a piece of omelet and slide it into his mouth. He chewed slowly as she waited for his answer to her question.

“It’s perfect. Thank you.”

Courtlyn relaxed, relieved he wasn’t going to complain about his order being wrong or tasting terrible. “Would you like for me to refresh your coffee?”

“If you don’t mind. You are kinder than your colleague. It’s a shame they keep you hidden away in the kitchen.”

As she reached behind her for the coffee pot, she noted the man’s voice had a slight lilt, but she couldn’t detect the origin of his accent. He wasn’t a local, that’s for sure. Grayson Cove was deeply embedded in the South, so the residents carried the Southern twang that distinguished them from visitors.

“The kitchen is where I’m happy.” She smiled at the man who watched her intently.

“It shows in your food. My breakfast is excellent.”

“Thank you. If you are still hungry after you finish your omelet, you’re welcome to try one of our pastries. They’re a specialty of ours.”

He tilted his head slightly to the side as he watched her. “Of yours, you mean.”

She felt her cheeks heat. She had no trouble telling people about her dishes, but she had a hard time accepting compliments or bragging about her achievements. “I recommend the blueberry and cream cheese Danish. It’s my favorite.”

He stopped her as she moved to return to the kitchen. “Is your name Mac?”

She shot him a bewildered look that had his lips curving into what she thought was a smile. Otherwise, his expression never changed.

“It’s a nickname Sissy gave me because of my last name. No one else calls me that.”

He took a bite of his bacon and crunched it thoughtfully. “I understand. People always want to shorten my name, too, even when I tell them not too. I believe they only call me Mac because they’re too lazy to say Malcolm.”

Something about this man made Courtlyn feel intrigued and disconcerted at the same time. “Nice to meet you, Malcolm. Enjoy your breakfast, and let us know if you need anything else.”

“Thank you.”

She stepped back to the kitchen and continued her preparations, pushing the odd encounter with the customer out of her mind. She needed to get her pies in the oven since they were on the lunch and dinner menus for the day, but she made an extra one to go with the frittata and order of beef stew she had scheduled to be delivered to Sexy Neighbor.

His friends had shown up at the diner a few days ago, and the one she’d spoken to at the hospital made sure to mention to her that he was coming home. There had been no signs of activity at his house.

She imagined an unkept bachelor pad with food rotting away in the refrigerator and cupboards. His lawn had been showing signs of neglect, the grass rising high and being infiltrated by pesky weeds. The idea of him coming home to all of that had bothered her enough that she mowed his yard and arranged for the food to be delivered. She would have cleaned inside his house, but she decided breaking and entering threw her more into the stalker zone than she already was.

She doubted he knew she was the one who had done any of it, but she didn’t care. She was fine with his friends receiving the credit if it meant he was being looked after. She still didn’t know what type of injury he was recovering from, but it had to be bad to keep him from coming home for so many days.

Courtlyn bustled around the kitchen, her movements automatic as she lost herself in her thoughts again. She’d thought about just knocking on Sexy Neighbor’s door many times. They were neighbors, so it wouldn’t be unusual for her to offer well wishes and drop off a casserole. People still did that. No one had ever done that for her, but she refused to believe that type of kindness no longer existed.

Maybe he would offer up his real name as a thank you for her kindness. His friends called him Wings, but she was having a hard time thinking of him that way. It was an odd nickname, one that likely carried a story, and since she didn’t know it, she couldn’t reconcile the nickname with the man.

“Courtlyn.”

She froze, not immediately recognizing the voice that called to her. Stepping to the order window, she saw the stranger motioning for her to step back into the dining area. A passing thought that maybe she should alert Tabby to both Sissy’s extended absence and the stranger’s odd demeanor came and left her mind before she moved back to the counter.

“I asked the other waitress your name. I hope you don’t mind,” he answered her unspoken question.

“No, of course not. Did you need anything else, Malcolm?”

He pushed some money across the table, his hand covering the denomination. “This is for you. Not for your colleague. For my breakfast and for some information.”

“Information?”

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