Page 20 of Razor
“Of course you are. Until you listen to that tiny, devilish voice in your head. Ignore whatever it tells you,” Razor suggested as he pulled out of her driveway.
She gaped at him in complete surprise. “You pick up on entirely too much.”
“Daddies have eyes in the back of their heads. They see everything.”
“Do you have cameras in here?” she asked, twisting around to peer into the corners of the truck.
“No, Honey. I don’t need them. What are you thinking? Breakfast or lunch?”
“Definitely, breakfast. It’s my favorite meal to eat out,” she shared.
“Mine too. Now, what’s your number one breakfast food? Pancakes, omelets, oatmeal?”
“Yuck. Oatmeal is the worst. It’s all goopy and sticky. I like scrambled eggs with hash browns and bacon.”
“That sounds yummy as a special day breakfast treat. I always put cheese in my scrambled eggs at home,” he shared. “I do like oatmeal. That’s my usual thing to eat during the week.”
“Cheesy eggs sound delicious,” Honey said, and her stomach underlined her interest by growling loudly. She slapped her hand over her tummy, trying to muffle the sound.
“Good thing we’re here.” Razor pulled into a parking lot of a ramshackle-looking building and parked in the last parking spot available.
“Is this restaurant safe to eat at?” Honey asked as she scanned the building.
“It’s the best spot in town. Stay right where you are. I’ll come to open your door.”
She’d never noticed this place. It wasn’t in the worst part of the city—just not the best. Honey wasn’t a snob, but she was aware of her possible weaknesses. Fending off a bad guy wouldn’t be easy for her on a challenging day. When Razor opened the door, his broad shoulders and solid frame blocked her view. She guessed he could handle anything or anyone.
“Let’s go, sweetheart,” he said and lifted her out. His arm stayed wrapped around her waist to steady her as he closed and locked the door. “Come on. Let’s see what you want to try.”
As they walked inside, a delicious aroma of bread, bacon, and cinnamon wafted over them. Honey inhaled deeply. “Oh, yum!”
“Razor. I’m glad to see you. And you’ve brought a pretty friend with you. I have a special booth for you,” an older waitress said as she picked up two tattered menus and waved at them to follow. People greeted Razor by name and smiled at Honey. The server stopped at a table with only one bench seat and set down the menus.
“Coffee?” she asked as Honey sat and scooted over for Razor to join her.
“The largest cup you have,” Honey requested with a smile. Caffeine got the green light from her doctor to help fight her fatigue, thank goodness.
“For me as well,” Razor said, claiming the seat next to Honey. He took up a lot of space. Honey tried to shift over a bit more, but Razor stopped her nervous movements with a hand over her thigh, pinning her close to him.
It took her a second to gather her thoughts as she enjoyed his touch. “This is the weirdest seat,” Honey murmured to him as she glanced around at the packed restaurant. Five servers bustled around waiting on customers. The rumble of voices provided privacy for her and Razor to talk freely.
“I love this booth. People-watching is my specialty. I make up stories about everyone,” Razor whispered to her. “Well, at least I did until I met most of them. Check out the menu and see what sounds good. They serve breakfast all day. It’s their specialty.”
“Really? I love breakfast for dinner. My mom did that sometimes when she got home late from work.”
“I’ll remember that,” Razor told her.
Honey smiled as she concentrated on the menu. She loved that Razor seemed to think they’d be together for a long time. “How are their biscuits and gravy?”
“The best on this side of the Mississippi,” a grizzled voice promised.
Glancing up, Honey found a long, gray-bearded gentleman standing in front of them. His battered appearance completely matched his gruff voice. She could picture him as a mountain man.
“Woodson! Glad to see you,” Razor said. He reached out to shake the older man’s hand. “Honey, this is Woodson. I think he lives here.”
“Hi, Honey. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Order the biscuits and gravy. You’ll enjoy them,” Woodson shared before heading to the counter at the front to claim one of the last empty seats.
“Have you decided yet?” The server who sat them placed two brimming cups of coffee in front of them.
