Page 12 of Not With the Eyes

"Coffee, oatmeal, yogurt, and fruit for me," Oberon said. "Couple of eggs over easy, biscuits."

Not even bothering to write any of it down, the server said, "You got it," and did a tidy heel turn. She called out the order to the cook in that diner lingo Oberon didn't understand and came back a minute later with coffee for them, along with enough packets of cream and sugar for twelve. Oberon wasn't complaining. "Thanks, darling."

"My pleasure," she said with a smile, and winked before she sauntered back behind the counter.

Scones gave him a look.

"What?" Oberon asked. "I can't help it I'm naturally charming. It'll get us better service, so stop complaining."

"Not complaining, just amused you can do that, even when you're this close to falling asleep in your coffee."

Oberon laughed. "I've been doing it so long, it's instinct. Couldn't turn it off if I tried. She wouldn't complain if you called her sweetheart, either."

"Rather not. People will remember a ginger British bloke awkwardly flirting."

"Surprised you don't dye it."

"Have a couple of times, but if you think I'm pasty with red hair, you should see how much worse it is with black or blond hair. Brown can look all right, depends on the undertones."

Oberon pursed his lips, picturing the myriad shades of hair. "Yes, I can see where blond and black would not work so well. You were clearly meant to be a redhead, no point in fighting it, I suppose."

"Yeah, we're not all blessed with your good looks."

"I don't think it counts when I can change my appearance on a whim," Oberon replied. "You're hardly a chore to look at."

Scones made a face. "Whatever. I'm not interested in discussing me. All I want right now is food and bed."

"A hot shower," Oberon said. He also wouldn't mind a good fuck to work out some of his tension, but his options there were limited, to say the least. He'd just have to find some other way to bleed all the tension out before it made him do something stupid.

All the coffee probably wasn't helping, but if he didn't have coffee, hewouldfall asleep in his breakfast, and that was a waste of good oatmeal.

Which thankfully arrived a moment later, accompanied by cream, butter, and brown sugar, the exact opposite of the healthy breakfast he'd been halfheartedly going for. Oh, well, guess he'd just have to eat it anyway. Woe and suffering.

He poured his third cup of coffee and then dug into the breakfast with gusto. "Nice to have relatively real food for once."

Scones laughed. "Still prefer a good beans on toast, but try to ask for that on this side of the pond and you'll get dragged to the village square and burned as a witch."

"As you should," Oberon replied.

Scones rolled his eyes. "I don't want to hear it from a country that advertises waffle breakfast tacos."

"Don't look at me, I'm French-Chinese: Two places where… actually, I think together they make one single place that knows food. There's no excuse for calf's head, urine eggs, and a host of other abominations."

"Yet you thinkbeans on toastis bad."

"I said what I said."

"Next you'll be insulting black pudding."

"I've had worse, I'll say that."

Scones grinned, andgoddammitif he wasn't more than a little cute when he did that. Oberon had officially lost his goddamn mind.

He put his focus back on his breakfast, until there was barely even a crumb left. Once they were paid up, Scones drove them to the hotel they'd reserved ahead of time. That Oberon had reserved, because he didn't trust Scones not to be one of those types that just picked the first sketchy hovel he saw. Oberon had standards, and they included a clean bed and an amazing shower.

At the hotel, Scones whistled and gave him a look. "We're supposed to be laying low, Your Highness."

"I'm not laying low with cockroaches and bedbugs," Oberon retorted.

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