“Yes, name,” she said. “You know, for example, I’m Katrina Ryans. The guy behind the counter who’s squinting at you but thinks he’s glaring is my brother Malcolm. And you’re in our diner which is named Doughy Pop’s.” I grinned. “Names. Now why don’t you give it a try?”
The man raised a brow. “This is your diner?”
Kat shrugged. “Well, my uncle’s. He’s also our cook. You can maybe make out his head through the order window. His nickname used to be Doughy. When he opened the diner, he said he was old enough to be called Pop now so hence, Doughy Pop’s.”
She waited.
The man said nothing as he absorbed the information. More than several beats of silence passed between them.
“Do you like our coffee, Carl?” she asked, finally breaking the quiet.
The man gave her a perplexed look. “My name’s not Carl,” he said.
She raised my brows in surprise. “Oh I’m so sorry!” Kat said in sincerity. “What was your name again?”
The man’s lips twitched.
“Name’s Daniels. Jason Daniels,” he said. His voice had a low, rich timbre which held notes of honesty that made her skin shiver in pleasure.
“Hi Jason,” she said with genuine sincerity. “It’s nice to meet you.”
There was another beat of silence where Jason seemed a little unsure as to how to proceed from there. It was almost a little painful for Kat to watch. She could tell he was in need of some kind of companionship—really dying for it—and yet he wasn’t sure how to go about it.
“Where are you coming from, Jason?” she asked, to try and start the conversation.
“Up north,” he said vaguely and abruptly.
Okaaay. So clearly he didn’t want to talk about himself.
“Why’s your brother squinting/glaring at me?” he asked curiously as he stared over her shoulder to where Malcolm was very clearly squinting through his thick glasses in what he thought was a menacing fashion.
Kat bit her lip to keep her from laughing. “Because he thinks you’re a drifting wizard out to kill for the Dark Lord,” she said with as straight a face as she could manage.
Jason’s face scrunched up in confusion. “What?” he said. “I look like a wizard?”
Kat couldn’t help but let a giggle escape as she nodded.
Jason’s brow furrowed in absolute bewilderment. “Like Merlin?”
His confusion was so genuine and so real, it was hard for Katrina not to burst out laughing. “I guess so,” she said as she wheezed a little, still unable to stop the laughter.
Jason split a perplexed look between Malcolm and Kat before shrugging and shaking his head. “I guess wizards have changed since I was a kid,” he muttered, causing Katrina to giggle again. He clearly was still thinking about the long bearded old Merlin.
“How long has the diner been around?” he asked when she had finally laughed it all out. He looked around the place. It was an old school diner. Not many left like these any more. Formica tabletops, chrome interior, and a thin layer of grease that coated the whole place, evidence of a happy and healthy diner.
Kat puffed up my cheeks then blew some air out as she thought. “Oh gosh,” she said. “It’s been I guess close to twenty years now? My uncle started it way back when he first got settled in this town. It was his retirement job, as he calls it.” She grinned, thinking of her large and loud voiced uncle.
“Retirement from what?” Jason asked, curious.
Kat grinned. She leaned forward as if about to share a secret. Jason grinned, clearly enjoying the conspiratorial nature the conversation had suddenly taken.
“My uncle was part of a motorcycle gang,” she whispered loudly.
Jason raised a brow in surprise.
Kat shrugged. “Well, at least that’s what me and the rest of the town believe. He soundly denies it. He says he worked in a paper factory in New Jersey for years and years. But you find me a paper factory that requires employees to tattoo club mottos on themselves and has leather vests as uniforms.”
Jason couldn’t help but grin. It changed the entire outlook of his face. From a brooding darkly attractive man, he turned into a gorgeous model that could be in toothpaste commercials.
“Quite a character for small town living,” he said.
Kat nodded. In the upper western part of North Carolina, close enough to be touching Virginia, Peytonville was a small town to be sure. They were too far from all the action of Raleigh or Greenboro or all the beach towns. But there was a very beautiful charm in Peytonville.