Page 24 of Daddy's Muse
“I’ll go with the lemon. Thank you.” His lips tilted up in the corners, an amused look in his eye.
I nodded and turned to go, heart still ticking a little faster in my chest, but his voice followed me.
“You’re Colby, right?”
I paused mid-step, slowly turning back. “Oh, yeah, that’s me…”
He knew my name?! My. Name?
“You were working the last time I ate here. It’s hard to forget someone like you,” he said.
I had no idea what to say to that.Was I so annoying that I’d cemented myself in his head under “people he should avoid”?
“Oh… okay…” I fumbled, quickly turning to walk back to the kitchen to get his pie. As soon as I was out of sight, I dragged my hand down my face and quietly groaned. That was a train wreck of a conversation. He was probably thinking I was socially incompetent or just plain dumb.
I balanced the plate carefully as I made my way back to the booth, the lemon meringue slice wobbling just slightly with every step. The meringue was perfectly torched on top—lightly browned peaks like little sugary mountains—and I suddenly felt nervous that it wasn’t fancy enough.
What if he didn’t like it?
“Here you go,” I said as I slid the plate onto the table, trying not to meet his eyes for too long. “Lemon meringue.”
He looked down at it, then back up at me, lips curling into that same calm smile from earlier. “Looks perfect. Thank you, Colby.”
Hearing my name from his mouth did something weird to my brain. I stood there for a beat too long before realizing I should probably go.Wait—was he expecting me to keep talking? Was I supposed to make small talk?
“Um, do you—uh—need anything else?” I asked, my voice pitching higher than I meant it to.
He shook his head. “Nope. Just the company, if that’s alright?”
Company?
My mouth opened and closed like a goldfish before I stammered, “I-I’ve got a few tables to check on, but, uh, I mean, I can—like—circle back in a bit. If you want.”
“I’d like that,” he said simply.
I nodded like that made sense and walked off quickly, gripping the empty coffee pot like it was anchoring me to this plane of existence.
I kept my eyes down for the next ten minutes, making myself look busy even though there were only two other customers left in the diner. Every time I caught a glimpse of him, I felt this pull in my stomach—not like butterflies, but something… deeper, hotter.
He was still eating. Occasionally, he’d glance out the window or scan the room again, like he was examining the world around us.
When I finally made my way back to his booth to top off his coffee, he looked up at me again with that same quiet intensity.
“So,” he said, voice low and warm. “I realized I haven’t introduced myself. My name is Bodin.”
“Bodin,” I murmured, almost as if testing the weight of it on my tongue. “That’s a unique name.”
He watched my lips as I spoke his name and, for just a second, his eyes flitted shut.
As his eyes reopened, he smiled and said, “It’s Norwegian. That’s where I’m from.”
“Whoa. Really? What are you doing here then?” I asked before realizing how it sounded. “Sorry if that’s an offensive question. I didn’t mean to be rude.” My gaze fell to the floor.
He frowned. “You weren’t rude, little one.” He leaned forward, resting his elbow on the table. “It’s a great thing to be curious.”
I shrugged and pretended to be fascinated by the way the coffee swirled in the mug, rather than mentally freaking out over him calling me “little one”.I didn’t say anything, not wanting to risk it.
“My family is Sámi. We are an indigenous tribe of Northern Norway. I respect my heritage very much, but I decided to travel, see if any parts of the world called to me.”
