Coffee Eyes Returns

"What?!" Dani nearly dropped the coffee pot.

"He said what?!" she repeated, louder this time.

Half the restaurant looked over.

I winced.

"Dani."

"No. No, absolutely not. That man is mentally unstable."

"Dani—"

"He called you reckless?"

I nodded.

"He called you selfish?"

Another nod.

She slapped the counter.

"I swear on everything holy, Ruby, if Earl Ray wasn't technically family—"

"Dani."

"I'm serious! The audacity. The unmitigated male audacity."

Despite myself, I laughed.

That was the thing about Dani.

She was beautiful enough to stop traffic, but mean enough to keep it moving.

Eventually, she calmed down enough to shove a cup of coffee at me.

"I hate men."

"Me too."

"We should leave."

I blinked.

"What?"

"We should pack up, skip town, and disappear. Go somewhere nobody knows us."

I snorted.

"And do what?"

Dani frowned.

"We'll figure it out."

"Dani, I'm thirty-four years old. The only job I've ever had is this diner."

"So?"

"So respectable businesses don't exactly line up to hire women related to half the county's criminal folklore."

"That's ridiculous."

"Is it?"

She opened her mouth.

Closed it.

"Okay, fair."

I sighed.

"I have no skills."

"You have skills."

"I know seventeen ways to remove gravy stains."

"Useful."

"I can tell who ordered sweet tea before they sit down."

"Gifted."

"I know exactly how many biscuits old Mr. Jenkins eats before he starts lying about his blood sugar."

"Terrifying."

I smiled despite myself.

"Too bad I can't put mysterious psychic powers on a résumé."

Dani stopped.

"Why not?"

I stared.

"What?"

"Seriously."

"Dani."

"No, seriously."

I laughed.

"Because it's all in my head."

"Ruby—"

"No, really. Maybe Grandma was a little strange."

"Ruby."

"And maybe I inherited it."

"Dani."

"And maybe you just can't come from my family without being a little crazy."

The words had barely left my mouth when—

Coffee eyes.

Dark curls.

The crooked grin he'd given me.

The way he'd looked amused instead of annoyed when I'd nearly taken both of us out with my forehead.

The image flashed through my mind so suddenly I nearly dropped my coffee.

And then...

The feeling came.

Not the buzzing.

Not the heaviness.

Not the warnings.

Just warmth.

Soft.

Gentle.

Like a summer breeze brushing against my cheek.

Comforting.

Happy.

Almost...

Content.

Like something deep inside me had simply sighed.

Without thinking, I smiled.

Dani froze.

Her eyes narrowed.

"What."

"What?"

"That."

"What?"

"That smile."

I frowned.

"What smile?"

"The one currently making me deeply uncomfortable."

"I always smile."

"Ruby Mae."

She pointed at me.

"I have worked beside you for twelve years."

"So?"

"So I know all your faces."

"I do not have faces."

"Oh, sweetheart, yes you do."

I snorted.

"You're ridiculous."

"No."

Her eyes widened.

"Oh my God."

"What?"

"I have never seen that look before."

"What look?"

"The plotting look."

I barked out a laugh.

"I'm not plotting."

"You are absolutely plotting."

"I'm plotting pajamas."

She blinked.

"What?"

"I'm going home tonight, putting on pajamas, watching Steel Magnolias, and eating the ice cream I forgot I had."

Dani stared.

Then slowly pointed again.

"There."

"What?"

"That smile."

I rolled my eyes.

"It's ice cream."

"No."

Dani leaned forward.

"That is not an ice cream smile."

"It absolutely is."

"Ruby."

"What?"

"I know an ice cream smile."

"Dani, that sentence is insane."

"And I know a man smile."

I snorted.

"There is no man."

"There is absolutely a man."

"There isn't."

"There is."

"There isn't."

"There is."

"There—"

Dani gasped.

Her eyes widened.

"You know what?"

"What?"

"You have that same look Mama Jenkins had when the feed store owner started bringing her free tomatoes."

I burst out laughing.

"Oh, Lord."

"No, I'm serious."

"Dani."

"No."

She pointed a spatula at me.

"That woman smiled like she'd discovered religion."

I laughed harder.

"Dani—"

"And six months later she married him."

"Dani!"

"Ruby, I swear before God and Dolly Parton—"

I laughed so hard coffee nearly came out my nose.

"Would you stop?"

"No."

She folded her arms.

"You've got a man smile."

"I do not."

"You do."

"I don't even have a man."

"Not yet."

I shook my head.

"It isn't a man smile."

"What is it?"

I opened my mouth.

And paused.

Because honestly...

I didn't know.

And that bothered me.

Because for the first time in years...

Something strange had touched me.

And instead of fear...

Instead of warnings...

Instead of dread...

All I'd felt...

Was happy.

And that should have scared me.

But somehow...

It didn't.

---

Which was exactly why I spent the next hour hiding in the kitchen.

Away from customers.

Away from windows.

Away from life.

And definitely away from mysterious strangers with coffee-colored eyes.

By closing time, Dani had officially lost patience.

"You have got to stop hiding behind mashed potatoes."

"I've always loved potatoes."

"Ruby."

"I'm tired."

"You're using gravy as emotional support."

I sighed.

"Fine."

To make peace, I offered to take the last few tables.

"Yesterday probably just shook me up more than I realized."

Dani softened.

"That actually makes sense."

Twenty minutes later, I was convinced I had completely lost my mind.

I stumbled over words.

Forgot an order.

Called sweet tea lemonade.

And nearly gave a child decaf coffee.

By then I was giddy.

Nervous.

Buzzing.

I blamed the bus.

Trauma.

Lack of sleep.

Too much caffeine.

Anything.

Everything.

Then I noticed someone sitting in the back booth.

My stomach dropped.

That's weird.

I hadn't seen him come in.

Which was impossible.

I greeted every customer.

Always had.

Ever since I was sixteen.

It had become my thing.

My way of proving to people that I might be kin to the bad ones...

But I wasn't one of them.

I picked up my notepad.

Smoothed my apron.

And walked over.

"I'm so sorry about the wait—"

Then I saw him.

Coffee eyes.

Dark ringlets.

Tall.

Beautiful.

Alive.

And looking right at me.

I froze so hard I dropped my notepad.

It hit the floor with a smack.

Neither of us moved.

For one full second.

Then both of us bent down at exactly the same time.

Thunk.

Our heads collided.

"Ouch!"

I jerked backward.

"So that's twice now," he said, laughing softly.

"You really are accident prone."

"Well maybe if people would stop appearing out of nowhere—"

I froze.

His smile disappeared.

And I wanted to die.

"Oh my God."

I covered my face.

"I'm sorry."

He blinked.

"No, I—"

"No, I'm sorry."

I looked horrified.

"I've just been off all day."

Because suddenly it felt like electricity was running through my veins.

Up my arms.

Across my shoulders.

Down my spine.

My face burned.

My fingertips tingled.

Everything felt numb.

And alive.

And strange.

And I realized with absolute horror...

I was just standing there.

Staring.

In silence.

Like a lunatic.

Concern crossed his face.

"Ruby?"

I blinked.

"Are you okay?"

And without another word...

I turned around.

Walked straight into the kitchen.

Leaned against the swinging door.

And focused on breathing.

Because I had just abandoned a customer.

And unless I was mistaken...

I'd also abandoned the prettiest man God had ever created.

Which somehow felt much worse.