You're Not Broken(2)

Finally, she reached table six.



“More coffee?” Kat asked cheerfully, smiling even though the man wasn’t looking at her.



The man didn’t say anything. She wondered if he hadn’t heard her. She bent over a little and said again, “Coffee?”



He didn’t even stir. A little perplexed but not wanting to disturb someone who clearly was in his own space, she gave up and walked away.



But before she was even two steps away, a large hand shot out and grabbed her left wrist. Kat gasped out of surprise and stared down at the large and callused hand that held onto her. Her eyes slowly traveled down the arm to the owner.



The mysterious man was looking straight up at her.



Oh they’re green, she thought dumbly as she stared into the deepest green eyes she had ever seen in her life. They were a dark, rich color that seemed to be able to emote all the things the man couldn’t say himself.



Kat saw stiffness, exhaustion, and strength in the darker depths of his eyes but they were all covered by a sheen of pain. His green eyes, surrounded by dark lashes and set above a straight nose and a chiseled jaw, made her realize just how startlingly attractive he was. The realization shot through her like a hot electric bolt.



“Miss,” he said, his voice a little husky. He cleared his throat and started again. “Miss,” he said again. “I hope this doesn’t come out wrong but…would you mind staying for a bit?”



Kat furrowed her brows, confused.



“Staying?” she asked.



“And talking,” he added. “You know, a conversation.”



She stared at the man. He spoke in a strained voice, as if it physically hurt him to ask a favor.



Kat looked over her shoulder quickly and saw everyone in the diner staring openly their way. This was the first time this strange newcomer had spoken and they were dying to hear what else he would say. She saw Malcolm staring at her with bulging eyes.



Malcolm shook his head and drew a finger across his neck. Serial drifting vagrant Death Eater, sis! Don’t talk to him! Avada Kedavra! Avada goddamn Kedavra!



“Well,” Kat started, very aware that his hand was still wrapped around her wrist. Her arm looked like a tiny twig in his large grasp. “I’m the only waitress on the clock right now….”



The man immediately let go of her, as if scalded by her words. “Of course,” he mumbled, looking back down at his cup. “I’m sorry.”



It was irrational but Kat immediately regretted the loss of his touch against her skin. Her wrist felt cold without his hand around it.



She saw Malcolm breathe a sigh of relief. He pointed a finger at her and then pointed to the space in front of him, his lips in a tight line. Get back here, missy.



She saw the other diners still staring at the man, some of them with absolutely no pretense as they openly watched him sitting in his booth.



There had been something in the man’s voice. It had been a desperate plea, his request. He had asked because he needed something more than conversation. She could tell that. But what else more he needed—now that was the mystery.



But she had heard the pain in his voice. She had seen it in his eyes. And it was hard to walk away, having heard and seen all that.



Kat took a seat opposite of him, decidedly setting the coffee pot down on the table. The man’s head jerked up in surprise, his eyes wide as he watched Kat get settled in her seat.



She smiled. “I’m the only waitress,” she said, “but it’s a slow afternoon. I don’t think a few minutes would really hurt.”



For the first time, a small light lit up the man’s incredible eyes. She saw a ghost of a smile twitch at his lips. “They’ll probably be too busy watching us anyway, right?” he said.



Easy laughter bubbled up in her. Kat leaned forward and said in a conspiratorial whisper, “I think you’re right about that.”





Chapter Two



“Well,” Kat said as she threw her hands into her lap. “What would you like to talk about?”



Now that she was actually sitting down, ready to fulfill his request, the man looked a little flummoxed. It was clear he had thought his request a long shot. Again, Kat felt that razor heat bolt down her spine as she looked across the table at the rough and rugged man.



This was a stranger, she tried to remind herself. But she couldn’t help but feel that blush of heat stealing across her body. She tried smiling encouragingly instead.



But the man still seemed at a loss.



“How about a name?” she prompted. “For starters.”



“Name,” the man repeated as if he had heard that word for the first time in his life. Kat couldn’t help but stare curiously at the man. Who was he exactly?