The guy walked over to the case just as Diana walked out with my overflowing plate. She’d even added lattice fries, because she knew they were my favorite. It smelled like heaven. An embarrassment of riches in the form of meat and potatoes.
When he saw what I was getting, his eyes grew to the size of saucers. They followed her all the way across the room until she placed the plate down in front of me. If it had been a cartoon, he would have had one of those thought bubbles above his head with my plate in it.
“Hi there, honey. You want some pie? I’ve got the kitchen shut down, but you can have whatever you like under there.”
Diana danced around grabbing a bottle of ketchup and mustard off of the table behind where I sat and handed them to me.
“You want some tea, Mutt?”
“Yeah. Extra ice, please.”
“Okay,” she said, handing me a knife and fork rolled in a napkin.
“See anything in there that looks good to you?” she asked the guy.
He tapped the glass as he studied the pies. My eyes were drawn to him, trying to figure out who he might be and what he was doing in Wynne.
“All of them are good, but her apple is the best,” I offered as I stared at the heaping pile of fries. Then, just before I spread out my napkin to begin hacking at the colossal sandwich, which was impossible for me to eat in one sitting, I caved.
“Do you like tenderloins?” I asked, knowing there was no way I could eat all of it anyway. It was almost humiliating having that much on one plate when this guy was clearly as hungry as a bitch wolf with nine pups.
“I do,” he answered, looking at me over his shoulder.
“I’ve got a little over half of this that I can’t eat. I’ll split it with you, if you’re that hungry.”
Diana crooked her head to the side and opened her mouth, about to make a bigger deal out of my gesture than necessary. Then she snapped it shut just as quick. She knew better.
I rolled my eyes at her and asked, “Can we get an extra plate, please?”
“Sure, honey. And what do you want to drink?” she asked the guy as she set my tea down.
“I’ll take a glass of milk,” he answered and walked over to my table. Then with the same pointing thing he’d done a minute ago, he silently asked if he could sit on the empty side of the booth.
What was it with this guy and finger pointing questions at me?
Dramatically, I nodded again, trying to hide my smile. Even if he was grouchy, he’d be nice to look at while I ate.
Diana came back with his milk, silverware, and the extra plate with a bun on it, setting all of it in front of the guy.
“I’ll be in back. Holler if you need me,” she said as she winked and walked off. When she got to the kitchen door, I glanced her way and she wafted her hand in front of her face and mouthed, “He’s hot.”
It was almost comical how he was looking at my sandwich. With my knife and fork, not knowing his stance on strangers touching his food, I cut the tenderloin in half and forked it over to his plate. Then I lifted my plate and spilled half of the fries over to his.
“So what’s your name? I don’t know you,” I said.
“Vaughn Renfro,” he answered, but he was more concerned with his food. He smiled up at me, but quickly went back to his full plate, popping a lattice fry in his mouth as he reached for the ketchup.
I squirted mustard on my bun and placed the pickles on it just how I liked. By the time I was applying ketchup to my fries, he was already digging in to his half. I doused my plate in ketchup, not missing a single bite.
Observing my overuse of ketchup, he looked at me questioningly with his mouth full. His face had changed from the hungry, frustrated one that walked in to a friendly, more likeable one. Now I could see what Diana was saying.
He was seriously hot.
Blue eyes. Short, dirty-blond hair. I watched the muscles in his jaw work as he hauled ass on the sandwich. I also took note of his forearms and big hands.
We ate in almost silence, except for the moaning and grunting coming from the other side of the booth. And I’m not proud to admit it, but the sounds he made were kind of hot, too.
“Pretty good stuff, huh?” I asked, capturing a piece of ice and giving it a loud crunch.
He cringed immediately at the sound, then swallowed.
“Oh my God, I thought I was going to die.”
“Yeah, I could tell. You had that hungry man thing going on.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, sorry about that. It’s been a hell of a day.”
“I hear you.”
“So how is it that you can get served food when the kitchen is closed? I need to learn your trick.” He sat back and took a long drink of his milk. It left a little white ring on his lip before he licked it off. Under normal circumstances, it would have looked dumb. But him doing it? Well, it was hot. I’m not going to lie.
“I’ve known Diana my whole life. I work across the street. No trick. I just called her a while ago and had her keep it warm for me.”
He looked thought the window at our building across the street. “You work at that garage over there?”
“Yep,” I answered as I kept eating. I was hungry too, but, unlike this guy, I liked to enjoy my food.
“Did she call you … Mutt?” he asked, his facial expression confessing he thought he’d heard wrong.