Page 44 of The Biker's Brother

He looked at her incredulously. “Seriously?” She made a face. “They have biscuits with sausage and pancakes, although I wouldn’t really recommend those. The best thing is an English muffin with a piece of ham, a poached egg, and cheese.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad.”

“Excellent choice. There’s only one problem.”

“What?”

“All the McDonalds are in the big towns or on the interstates.”

“Great.”

“So what will it be? Get wet and get food at the local café or drive for a while?”

“Why? Because you think we might drive out of the rain? Let’s get food.”

“How’s your garbage bag holding up?”

“It will outlast the pyramids. You should have taken one for yourself.”

“Hindsight,” he said.

When they pulled into the town square they saw a string of cars parked by a movie theater that had probably been closed for forty years.

“That’s got to be it.”

“What?” Cami was getting very tired of asking ‘what’ and ‘why’ every other minute, but Brandon had a way of making statements that begged for questioning.

“Breakfast. Get your bag on.” She pulled the bag up and held it clenched at her neck so that it covered her head, shoulders, and upper body. “You ready?” She nodded. “One. Two. Three.”

They opened their doors and ran for the overhang as fast as they could. When they stepped inside, the locals gave them both a good looking over before turning back to their solitary breakfasts or their conversations.

“Sit anywhere,” said a woman who passed by carrying a coffee carafe. She was wearing an apron over jeans and tennis shoes so they assumed she knew what she was talking about.

Brandon motioned toward a booth in the back. As soon as they sat, the waitress was there.

“Coffee?” she asked.

“Yeah,” said Brand.

“No,” said Cami. “I just had some. Thank you.”

“Sure.” She placed two menus in front of them. “Back in a minute.”

It was more like five minutes before she returned. “What can I get you?”

Dismissing the menu, Cami said, “Can I get two poached eggs and plain wheat toast? With cranberry juice?”

The waitress blinked. “We’ve got fried eggs and scrambled eggs.”

Cami’s shoulders slumped. “Scrambled. Do you have wheat toast?”

“Yeah. We got wheat toast. All out of cranberry juice. We’ve got orange and grapefruit.”

“Fresh?” Cami asked hopefully.

The waitress looked at her like she was deliberately trying to cause trouble and simply shook her head.

“Grapefruit,” Cami said.

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