Page 29 of Their Stormy Reunion

I hesitated for a second too long.

“Boy, I’m throwing you a bone. Take it.” She gave me a pointed look and then winked.

Taking the menu, I smothered a smile of gratitude, and wove through the tables toward Fallon. Her shoulders were hunched, her body language screaming “leave me alone.” As I got closer, I caught some of the sidelong glares being thrown her way. My jaw tightened. How could they all be so damn judgmental? What’s more, it had been nine years for fuck’s sake.

Fallon didn’t look up until I pulled out the chair opposite her. Her hazel eyes met mine, a mix of surprise and irritation flashing across her face.

“What are you doing here? And why the hell are you sitting at my table?”

“All the other tables are full,” I said, leaning back in the chair as if I owned it. I shrugged, letting the corner of my mouth curl into a grin. “Figured you’d be generous enough to share.”

Her eyes narrowed, sharp as glass. Fallon was assessing me, weighing whether to argue or let me off easy. “Kind of presumptuous, don’t you think?”

“Maybe,” I replied, my grin widening just enough to tease. “But I’ve always been an optimist.”

“What can I get you to drink?” Lettie’s voice broke the tension as she walked up to our table. She stood there with a coffee pot in hand, her expression halfway between pleasant and suspicious.

I’d left my travel mug empty in the truck, and caffeine was still very much a requirement. I flipped my mug over. “Fill ’er up.”

As Lettie poured, my eyes flicked to Fallon’s cup. It was sitting there, turned over, bone dry. I gestured toward it. “Fallon would like coffee, too.”

Lettie’s eyebrows lifted slightly as she tilted the pot over Fallon’s mug, filling it to the absolute brim—no room for cream or sugar. A quiet, pointed statement. Message received: another soldier in the Team Michael army.

Not cool.

“Isn’t it great to have Fallon back in town?” I said loudly, letting my voice carry across the diner. “I’ve missed her. She’s doing an amazing job taking care of her mom and dad.”

Lettie shot me a look that could have been a cross between disbelief and pity. She turned her attention to Fallon. “How’s your daddy doing?”

Fallon sat up straighter, but her voice was soft. “As well as he can, all things considered. I’m going to get a to-go order for him and Mom. He loves your food.”

That managed to coax a small smile out of Lettie. “Just let me know what you need before you’re done eating, and I’ll have it ready for you. And keep us updated on his progress. I’ll bring Mom and Little Grandma by for a visit when he’s feeling up to it.”

Fallon’s lips curved into a wide, genuine smile, lighting up her face in a way I hadn’t seen in far too long. “He’d love that. His old bowling team came by recently, and it really lifted his spirits.”

“Then it’s a plan. Are you ready to order?” Lettie asked.

Fallon glanced at the menu as though she hadn’t memorized it years ago. Before she could respond, I jumped in. “She’ll have a waffle with strawberries and whipped cream, and a side of bacon. Make sure the bacon’s burnt.”

Fallon’s head snapped up, her eyes narrowing as she frowned at me. “You don’t know that for sure. My tastes might have changed.”

I smirked. “Have they?”

Her shoulders slumped in surrender. “No,” she muttered.

Lettie chuckled, her sharp gaze bouncing between us. “How long were you two together before Fallon left?”

“Six years,” I answered before Fallon could.

“I guess you’d know, then,” Lettie said, her tone amused. “And do you want your usual, Michael?”

“Yeah, as long as Harvey hasn’t cleaned you out of all the cinnamon rolls.”

She grinned. “Harvey hasn’t been in, so you’re in luck. I’ll bring one out with your western omelet, fried potatoes, and fried tomatoes.”

Fallon snickered, her laugh bubbling up like it couldn’t be helped. It hit me square in the solar plexus.

“So, sue me, I know what I like,” I told her, feigning indignation.