Page 19 of Phoenix Falling
He lifted two fingers to indicate he’d have one as well. The waitress actually winked at him. “I’ll have those right out.”
I barely managed not to growl in frustration. Between the women on the street, our server, and the fact that every woman in the room, it seemed, had given Sun the once-over, I had a feeling I better get used to the attention for now. Luckily he wasn’t looking at anyone but me.
“Are you getting dinner or breakfast?” he asked.
The Diner served both, all night. “I can’t come here without getting one of their burgers.” The thickest patties, perfectly grilled, with soft buns that melted in my mouth. The onion rings were equally to-die-for.
“Good choice.”
“You?”
“I think I’ll go with breakfast tonight.”
And he did. When our too-flirty waitress returned, he quickly ordered two stacks of buttermilk pancakes, bacon on the side, with extra hamandsausage, as well as half a dozen fried eggs and a side of biscuits.
My eyes got rounder with every item he listed. “What, are you secretly a horse?”
His laugh was low and sexy and rumbled through parts of me that had no business noticing. “Not exactly.”
Vampire metabolisms must be a hell of a lot higher than a human’s. Just another reason to hate them. No “last ten pounds” for them, I guessed.
“Right,” Blondie said. “A big appetite for a big boy.”
I narrowed my eyes at the woman, silently vowing to rip her poofy hair from her head if she didn’t shut the fuck up. “I’ll have the burger,” I gritted out.
Finally seeming to catch my drift, she kept her eyes on me and off Sun while I ordered, but let them drift over him as she turned back toward the kitchen. I barely refrained from following.
“So, how’s the writing going?”
The what?I yanked my gaze away from Blondie. Oh, right. I’d given Sun my usual cover, that I was an aspiring true crime author. Hey, it wasn’t even half a lie. I was constantly researching crime nationwide, looking for signs of the Anigma and other women like me. It also helped explain why I stalked the streets at night, alone. “Making progress.” That wasn’t a lie either. “Some of what I’ve gathered is starting to make sense.”
“What are you writing about?”
Wouldn’t you like to know?And he would soon enough. We had a meeting scheduled in just a few days to discuss the data I was compiling. “Sorry.” I shrugged. “I don’t discuss the story till it’s written. Bad mojo.”
One auburn brow quirked up over his intense eyes. “Mojo?”
“Writers are superstition. You knew that, right?”
“No, I did not.” He grinned. “I’ll get the story eventually.”
True. “You never did tell me what you do for a living.”
“Security.”
I eyed the width of his shoulders. “That makes sense.” Of course he didn’t mean human security. Dancing around the truth like this was making me wish my tongue was more adept. “Guard any celebrities lately?”
His eyes sparkled with amusement. “We don’t guard and tell.”
“Riiight.” I chuckled.
Silence fell as we stared at each other, the chatter of the restaurant swirling around us. “What is that look?” he finally asked me.
“I don’t know.” I planted my elbow on the table and propped my chin on it, studying him and not trying to hide it for once. “You’re not exactly forthcoming about yourself, but you’re not unfriendly either. With the tough look you’ve got going, I keep expecting a ‘me Tarzan, you Jane’ approach and I’m not getting it, and it’s throwing me off.”
Heat sharpened the intensity of his gaze. “I can be all the Tarzan you want when the time is right.”
“I’ll just bet you can, lover boy.”
