Except, Addie would swear it was natural. Dyes left an unusual sheen or looked brittle after a while. His hair glistened under the lights, each strand soft, in a short cut that suited his face. Addie often studied his head as he bent over his pie, and she’d clutch her apron to keep from reaching out and running her fingers through his interesting hair.
In sum—this man was hotter than a Texas wind on a dry summer day. Addie could feel the sultry heat when she was around him. At least, she sure started to sweat whenever she looked at him.
For the last month or so, he’d come in every night near to closing time, order the last pieces of banana cream pie and the apple pie with streusel, and eat while Addie locked the door and went through her rituals for the night. When Bo arrived through the back door, the man would go out the front, taking his sword . . . and the other things he always brought.
They came in now, walking behind him—three little boys, the oldest one following the two younger ones. The oldest’s name was Robbie, and he brought up the rear, looking around as though guarding his two little brothers.
“Hello, Robbie,” Addie said. “Brett, Zane. How are you tonight?”
As usual, the two littlest chorused Fine, but Robbie only gave her a polite nod, mimicking his father. Although Addie thought the man wasn’t actually Robbie’s father.
The youngest ones had the man’s green eyes and white-and-black hair, but Robbie didn’t look like any of them. He had dark brown hair and eyes that were gray—a striking-looking kid, but Addie figured he wasn’t related to the others. Adopted maybe, or maybe a very distant relative. Whatever, the man looked after all three with protective fierceness, not letting anyone near them.
They took the four stools at the very end of the counter away from the windows, almost in the hall to the bathrooms. Robbie sat on the seat farthest from the door, Zane and Brett perched in the next two seats with their dad next to them, his bulk between them and whoever might enter the diner.
Addie took up the coffeepot and poured a cup of fully caffeinated brew for black-and-white guy and three ice waters for the boys. She’d offered them cokes the first time they came into the diner but their dad didn’t like them having sugared drinks.
Considering how much pie they put away, Addie didn’t blame him. Sweet sodas on top of that would have them wired to the gills all night.
“You almost missed the pie,” Addie said to the boys as she set dripping glasses of water in front of them. “We had a run on it today. But I saved you back a few pieces in the fridge.” She winked. “I’ll just run and get them. That’s three banana creams and an apple streusel, right?”
She looked into the father’s green eyes, and stopped.
She’d never seen him look at her like that. There was a hunger in his gaze—powerful, intense hunger. He skewered her with it. Addie looked back at him, her lips parting, her heart constricting.
Men had looked at her suggestively before but they’d always accompanied the look with a half-amused smile as though laughing at themselves, or telling Addie she’d have a great time if she conceded.
This was different. Black-and-white man studied her with a wanting that was palpable, as though any second he’d climb over the counter and come at her.
After a second, he blinked and the look was gone. He hadn’t intended her to catch him.
The blink showed Addie something else. Behind the interest, his eyes held great distraction and deep worry.
Something had happened tonight, some reason he’d come here going on five minutes late.
Addie knew better than to ask if everything was all right. He wouldn’t tell her. The man was not one for casual conversation. The boys talked but kept their answers general. They had never betrayed with one word where they were from, where they went to school, what they liked to do for fun, or why their dad kept them up this late every night.