Page 46 of Run to Ground
Jules took several steps back, as if she was happy to put some space between her and Norman. “Oh no! Do you need anything? Like an ice pack or something? I have some ibuprofen in my purse. Oh, what am I saying? I’m sure it’s hurting more than over-the-counter pain meds could even touch. Is there any way I could help?”
As Hugh shifted, taking up more of the room on the seat and trapping the still-startled Norman in the corner, he gave Jules an entreating smile. “Just my breakfast? Please?”
“Of course.” She gave Hugh another one of those shoulder pats that made Theo unreasonably jealous. “Right away.”
Theo watched her hurry off before sliding into the booth across from Norman. For once, when Otto followed him in, Theo didn’t complain about being trapped. This time, it was someone else—Norman, to be exact—who was the animal caught in the cage, and Theo was one of the hunters.
“Hello,” Hugh said amiably, shifting another inch toward Norman. Now that he’d recovered from his surprise, Norman wasn’t acting like most people would have. Instead of cringing or getting hostile, Norman just pasted on a bland smile that eerily matched Hugh’s. “I don’t believe we’ve formally met.”
* * *
“Hold up.” Megan grabbed her arm as Jules rushed past, swinging her around with the force of her momentum.
“I promised the guys their breakfast,” Jules protested. “They just got creepy Norman to quit being handsy with me, plus—and much more importantly—Hugh was shot in the leg while saving my brother. The least I can do is make sure they get fed. Vicki’s in a mood and can’t promise to put a rush on their order, and kind of… Well, she demanded that I get out of her kitchen, so I grabbed some biscuits and gravy to tide the guys over. I put it on my tab.”
“Those three will be fine waiting a few minutes for their food. Did Hugh do his starving-puppy imitation?”
“Well…” Hehadlooked a bit like a starving puppy.
“Besides,” Megan continued before Jules could answer, “they’re doing their thing.”
“Thing?” Jules looked over at where the three cops had joined Norman in his booth. Since she’d been distracted by Hugh’s mention of his leg hurting, and Theo just being Theo, and relief at getting away from Norman’s tight grip as he babbled about needing to tell her something important, she hadn’t wondered why the guys had sat down with Norman. “What thing is that?”
“Their cop thing,” Megan said, as if it were obvious. “And it’s about time. Norman Rounds has been here every morning for the past two weeks, staring at you with his weird creeper stare, and now he’s started grabbing you. That’s not okay for anyone to do, but especially Norman. He’s one of Gordon’s bomb nuts, so he’s not one you want to have as your very own super-special stalker.”
“Bomb nuts?” Seriously? As if she didn’t have enough to worry about, now Megan was telling her that a guy who was into bombs had a crush on her? This was bad.
“Yeah. Gordon has a group of guys living at his place, and they build things that goboomwhile discussing how much the government sucks. Theo will have a talk with him about how there’s only one creeper allowed to stalk you at a time, and Theo’s called dibs.” Ignoring Jules’s stare, Megan continued. “Those two are your only tables right now. Why don’t you go sit down, eat your biscuits and gravy, and ignore those guys for a few minutes. If anyone else comes in, I can babysit your section while you take a breath.”
Shaking off the disturbing information overload Megan had just dumped on her head, Jules glanced around. It was true. There was a lull, rare for this early in the morning. Even in the short time she’d been working as a server, she’d learned to grab breaks when the opportunity presented itself. Jules wasn’t about to turn down Megan’s offer, especially as frantic as the day had already been.
“Thank you, Megan.” With a final, curious glance at Norman’s table, where the three cops seemed to loom over the strange man—as much as three people sitting down could loom—Jules obediently headed for an unoccupied booth in the corner. She chose the side that had an excellent view of whatever was going down at table twelve. Jules was curious to see what “doing their thing” entailed.
Norman had become an early morning regular at the diner, always sitting at table twelve, and she’d started to dread seeing him walk in. She would’ve asked Megan to switch sections with her, since the other woman didn’t seem to be as bothered by Norman’s weirdness—or much of anything, actually—but then Jules would lose the cops’ table, too. She was willing to put up with Norman in exchange for an excuse to talk to Theo every day.
Speaking of Theo, he was saying something to Norman, who looked…how Norman always looked. Bland. Possibly mildly amused. Although Jules had a more oblique view of Theo’s face, she didn’t have to see his expression to know he was frowning. In fact, his entire body was scowling.
It would’ve been better if she could have heard what they were saying, but the men kept their voices low. She gave up trying to figure out the gist of the conversation and just enjoyed her biscuits and gravy, as well as her chance to stare at Theo as much as she wanted without anyone noticing.
As soon as she had that thought, she caught Hugh’s amused glance and held back a sigh.Busted.Well, even if her gawking had been noticed, at least she still had her food. Jules tried to stay focused on her plate, but her disobedient eyes kept glancing at the cop—hercop.
Finally they slid out of Norman’s booth and started back to their usual table. When Theo glanced around and spotted her, he reversed direction and headed her way. Her stomach did its usual spin and dive at the sight of him, so big and intense and focused on her, and she put down her fork. With all the butterflies in her belly, there was no room for any more biscuits and gravy.
Theo stopped at her booth. Instead of sliding into the seat across from her, as Jules half-expected him to do, he sat right next to her, using his muscled bulk to nudge her over. She slid to the right, making room for him, trying not to be too conscious of the heat radiating from his side or his amazing smell or the way her heart flapped around like a crazed bird at his proximity.
He tipped his head at her abandoned breakfast, and she made a “help yourself” gesture. Tugging the plate—which still held the majority of her biscuits and gravy—toward him, he took a bite, keeping his gaze steady on her. There was something so intimate about him eating from her plate, using her fork—the same fork that had been in her mouth—that she felt heat rise in her cheeks and hoped her blush wasn’t obvious. Her throat was so tight she knew her voice would sound weird if she spoke, but she also knew she needed to say something; otherwise, she’d explode. Words were a sort of release valve for her overinflated balloon of a brain.
“What was—” Her voice came out husky—like,phone-sex-operatorhusky—and her face burned hotter. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “What was that whole thing with Norman about?”
Chewing, he studied her thoughtfully for a long moment before swallowing and then replying. “Just getting some answers.”
“Did you ask him why he’s so weird?” She was blushing hard now, but she couldn’t help it. The side of Theo’s knee brushed against hers, melting her brain until all she could do was shriek single-word thoughts likeKnees! Touching!“Or why he only wears beige? Black, I think, would be more practical if he wanted to go monochromatic. Stains wouldn’t show on black.”
“No.”
“You don’t think black would be better?” Why was she still talking?
He stopped eating for a moment so he could look at her. His frown seemed to be more confused than angry, for once. “No, I meant I didn’t ask him… This is a strange conversation.”
