Two could play that game. I took a sip of my hard cider and stared at him. He wore a faded black T-shirt that was headed for charcoal, as well as another pair of those insanely dark jeans. New jeans. Which didn’t exactly fit his personality, especially with the stretched out and beat-up T-shirt.
I wasn’t sure why everything about him was fascinating to me, but it was.
He shook his hair out of his face and my breath caught, his nostrils flaring with annoyance. Even without the scar, he was more rugged than handsome. His facial hair had doubled since the last time I’d seen him. His scruff filled in slightly around his puckered flesh, but there was no denying the ravaging of his face.
And yet, it made him even more arresting.
“If you think you can growl me into looking away, think again. I went to art school, and there’s no one more horrifying than a critique group.”
His eyebrow spiked.
I grinned. “Oops, did I say horrifying?”
Cordelia, the usual waitress during the evenings, came by the table with a plate full of dips and burger fixings and another basket full to the brim of fries and onion rings. She set the plate in front of me and the basket in the middle of the table. “Colder said you guys might want the onion rings too.”
I sat up and rubbed my hands together. “We do.”
Nolan seethed and I just kept smiling. “Thanks, Cordelia.”
The waitress glanced at Nolan with a gulp then stole a quick look at me. “Sure. Need anything else?”
“Nope. We’re great. Unless you want another...beer?”
Nolan glanced up at Cordelia, making sure to shake his hair forward again. “Another IPA would be great, thanks.”
“You got it.” Cordelia left with the quickness.
I wasn’t sure if it was the scar or the overall grumpy aura Nolan gave off that put Cordelia on edge. I suspected I was a bit on the twisted end. I enjoyed the fact that he didn’t try to hide his moods. It was refreshing, especially since I was used to dealing with realtors all damn day. No one could be that freaking happy all the time. I reached over for a fry and dunked it in my favorite dip. “Have some.”
“I’m good.”
“Suit yourself.” He kept glancing at the basket and tapping a finger on the table.
“C’mon. Those onion rings are good. Callahan adds something to the batter. Makes them extra spicy.”
He sighed and took one, then he leaned over to my dipping sauces and gave me a flat stare before scooping out a bunch of my favorite dipping sauce.
I snickered. “Think you’re going to piss me off, you’ll have to try harder.” I added tomato and a slice of the red onion on my burger and loaded it up with ketchup before I cut it in half. I met his gaze as I took a big bite. When the ketchup dripped all over my hand, I whined.
He picked up a napkin and handed it to me.
“I’ll just get messy in the next bite,” I said after I finished chewing. “So, what have you been destroying at the house while I’ve been putting together your proposal?”
He set the napkin by my plate and took another onion ring. He dipped it in my excess ketchup on my plate without a qualm. It was more intimate than I’d been expecting.
Like a couple eating together.
He popped the onion ring in my mouth. “I just got back into town. Had to deal with some stuff.”
I leaned over my plate. My cute red tank wouldn’t look good dotted with grease. “What kind of stuff?” I shoved the onion back into the bun and took another bite.
He shook his head, but I was pretty sure the lips half hidden by his beard were twitching. “Nunya.”
I wrinkled my nose at him. “Just trying to be friendly.”
“Friendly would be you leaving me alone.”
“Nah. That’s no fun.” I grabbed an onion ring of my own and pulled it apart to let some of the heat out before it burned my mouth. I dunked it in another one of the dips and coughed at the horseradish kick.
“Can’t handle the heat?”
I grabbed my napkin and lifted my voice over the people conversing around us. “I can handle plenty of heat, pal. I just wasn’t expecting it.”
“Need a baby wipe?”
“Wrong town to find that in a purse.” I flagged down Cordelia with wiggling fingers.
She hustled over with wet wipes, which we all used on wing nights, as well as his IPA. “I got you, girl.”
“Thanks. Can we have more of the bonfire sauce too?”
“Got it.” She set the glass down beside Nolan. “Anything for you?”
“I’ll take some of that bonfire sauce too,” he said, giving her a tight smile that looked very wrong on his face.
“Sure thing.”
After Cordelia left and I cleaned up, I took a long drink of my cider to wash away the burning tickle. “So, where did you live before here?”
