Page 19 of The Closed Off Captain

“Hungry?” he asks as he backs out.

“I’m fine,” I wave him off. Fifteen minutes later, he pulls into a restaurant. “I said I was fine,” I remind him.

“I’m starving.”

“Oh, well why didn’t you say so?” He parks and grabs a non-descript ball cap off the dashboard and shoves it on his head, pulling it low over his eyes. I’ve seen all the guys do this when they’re out and about. It rarely works. Guys as big and tall as Gunner don’t just melt into the crowd. Even if people don’t recognize who they are, they recognize that they’resomeone. I glance at my phone and notice several missed calls, texts, and emails—all work-related. “You go on in. I have to follow up on some things.” I open my email on my tablet as he climbs out ofthe truck. A moment later, I’m startled when my door opens. I look at him in surprise.

“Come on. Work can wait.”

He tugs on my arm, and it’s either follow his lead or fall out of the truck. With a sigh, I close my iPad and climb down. I glance at the restaurant, taking note for the first time. “We’re at a diner? You like diners?”

“What’s wrong with diners?” he asks, looking down at me.

I frown. “I don’t know. They’re just so...greasy.”

He smirks and opens the door for me. I take in the bright vinyl seats and try not to grimace. The hostess does a double take of Gunner, and I resist the urge to sigh. “Good morning,” she says a little too brightly. “Just the two of you?” Gunner nods, and she grabs menus. She keeps up a steady stream of conversation all the way to the booth. I can tell she knows Gunner is somebody; she just hasn’t been able to work out who yet. I don’t make any attempt to help her. I watch as Gunner slides in, but I don’t move.

The woman finally leaves, and Gunner turns to me. “Are you going to sit down?”

I look down at the booth and grimace. “Do I have to?”

He laughs. But a moment later, he shrugs out of his sweatshirt and then hands it to me. I look at it and then back at him. “You can sit on it.”

“It’s white,” I say, grimacing.

He shakes his head. “Just sit down, Miss PR.”

My eyes widen. “Excuse me?”

He shrugs. “It’s what Aiden used to call you before he knew your name. It kind of stuck. Now, are you going to sit; or do we need to go somewhere else that isn’t beneath you?”

I glare at him before I finally throw his sweatshirt on the bench seat and sit on it. “It’s not beneath me,” I mumble.

“Good morning, I’m Kathy. I’m going to be your waitress this morning. What can I get—Oh my word.” She pauses. “You’re Aiden Brooks.”

A strangled laugh escapes me, and I grin broadly, patting his hand. “What do you want to drink, Aiden?”

Chapter 10

Chloe

I continue to call him Aiden the rest of breakfast, much to his chagrin. I can’t help it; it makes me laugh every single time. “Were the eggs not good?” he asks pointing to my plate. I ate the gluten free toast, some of the potatoes, and the ham but left the eggs.

“I don’t eat eggs.”

“Allergic?” he asks.

“No, I just don’t like them.”

“Ever?” he asks, looking offended for the eggs.

I smirk. “Nope. I mean I can eat them in baked goods, but I just can’t stand the taste, smell, texture...pretty much everything about eggs.” I take a drink of my decaf coffee. “You want them?” I ask, motioning to my eggs. He nods, and I slide the plate his way. “Eat whatever you want; I’m done.”

“You’re gluten free?” he asks.

I shrug. “Sometimes.”

He frowns. “Sometimes?”

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