Yours Truly(78)

“You've been here a few times, I take it?” he asked with a smile. I laughed.

“Yup. Dom over there owns the bar I work at on weekends, and Adele is his wife. The bar is right next door. This is my favorite place to get breakfast.” I slid him a menu. “If you like French toast, Adele makes it from cinnamon rolls.”

“Cinnamon rolls? I'm sold. I'm having that.” Noah set the menu down and grinned.

“Yeah, it's my favorite. That or the banana-nut crepes.”

“Okay, now you're making me rethink my first choice...” He reached for the menu. I put my hand on his to stop him, feeling a quiver in my stomach at his touch.

“Go with the Cinnamon Roll French Toast. Tomorrow you can come back and get the crepes. Or for dinner. Adele serves breakfast all day.” I let go of his hand and sat back into my chair.

“This island just keeps getting better and better!” Noah laughed.

Adele came over in her yellow plaid apron and pale yellow dress. I always thought she was what a grandmother should look like. She was all warm curves, hugs, and smiles. It was part of the appeal of eating at Adele’s. Not only was there amazing food, but it felt like I was always getting spoiled by a favorite relative by coming there.

“What can I get you folks?” Adele asked.

“Two of my usual. Bacon and scrambled eggs on mine, please,” I replied politely.

“Scrambled eggs and sausage links for me. And coffee,” Noah added.

“You got it. It'll be right out,” Adele promised, taking our menus and bustling off to the kitchen. It was slow now that the breakfast rush was over. The normal waitress must have been on break, so Adele was probably playing both waitress and cook.

“So, what do you do, Noah? Other than tend bar?” I asked, trying to start a conversation.

“I buy distressed properties,” he said. A light went out in his blue eyes, like this wasn't something that he enjoyed discussing.

“That sounds... interesting.” I was surprised at his lack of enthusiasm. Most people were eager to tell others about their work and what they did.

“Not really. It's actually quite boring,” Noah replied, his voice flat. Adele reappeared at our table with a fresh pot of coffee and poured us each a steaming mug. She left the carafe along with a small pitcher of cream. I eagerly added some to my coffee and poured some sugar in as well. Noah took his black.

“You must be good at it,” I said once Adele had left.

“Good at what?” Noah looked at me confused, his dark brows meeting in the center of his forehead.

“Distressed properties.”

“What makes you think I'm good at it?” His voice held no emotion, and his eyes were blank. He took a sip of his coffee.

“Because no one who is friends with Jack Saunders would be able to do something badly.”

Noah frowned slightly. “So you know who Jack is?”

“My roommate adores those tabloid magazines. If she knew that 'New York's most eligible bachelor' was in town, she'd flip her lid.” I played with my coffee mug and then looked up at him. “I actually didn't even recognize him until I went home and saw him on the cover of one of her magazines. I am so out of the celebrity loop. If it hadn't been laying on her bed, I never would have made the connection.”

“Are you going to tell her?” Noah's blue eyes searched my face.

“Hell no.” I set my coffee cup down. “She'd go off to find him, and I'd get stuck doing all her research work!”

Noah laughed, and his face relaxed. The light was back in his eyes. He was a good friend to worry about his buddy like that. I couldn't help but like him just a little bit more.

“So, research work? What do you do?” Noah asked. He leaned in against the table, as if he were actually interested.

“I'm a marine biologist.”

“Do you work with dolphins?” Noah's eyes sparkled at the idea.

I shook my head. “Sharks, actually.”

“Sharks?” Noah frowned. “Like Jaws?” he made a chomping motion with his hands, and I giggled.

“Sharks, yes. Jaws, no. Jaws was a great white shark, and they typically don't live in the Caribbean,” I explained gently.

Noah leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “You must not have seen Jaws Four, then.”

“It's what inspired me to become a marine biologist!” I opened my eyes wide in mock enthusiasm, making him laugh. “It's only the worst movie ever,” I said, making a face, and he laughed harder. “I actually mostly study lemon sharks. Not great whites.”

“Do they look like great whites?” He gave me a serious look. “Please tell me we're going to need a bigger boat.”