Prove Me Wrong (18 page)

Chapter
Two

              “Well,” Kat said as she threw her hands into her lap. “What would you like to talk about?”

              Now that she was actually sitting down, ready to fulfill his request, the man looked a little flummoxed. It was clear he had thought his request a long shot. Again, Kat felt that razor heat bolt down her spine as she looked across the table at the rough and rugged man.

             
This was a stranger
, she tried to remind herself. But she couldn’t help but feel that blush of heat stealing across her body. She tried smiling encouragingly instead.

              But the man still seemed at a loss.

              “How about a name?” she prompted. “For starters.”

              “Name,” the man repeated as if he had heard that word for the first time in his life. Kat couldn’t help but stare curiously at the man. Who was he exactly?

              “Yes, name,” she said. “You know, for example, I’m Katrina Ryans. The guy behind the counter who’s squinting at you but thinks he’s glaring is my brother Malcolm. And you’re in our diner which is named Doughy Pop’s.” I grinned. “Names. Now why don’t you give it a try?”

              The man raised a brow. “This is your diner?”

              Kat shrugged. “Well, my uncle’s. He’s also our cook. You can maybe make out his head through the order window. His nickname used to be Doughy. When he opened the diner, he said he was old enough to be called Pop now so hence, Doughy Pop’s.”

              She waited.

              The man said nothing as he absorbed the information. More than several beats of silence passed between them.

              “Do you like our coffee, Carl?” she asked, finally breaking the quiet.

              The man gave her a perplexed look. “My name’s not Carl,” he said.

              She raised my brows in surprise. “Oh I’m so sorry!” Kat said in sincerity. “What was your name again?”

              The man’s lips twitched.

              “Name’s Daniels. Jason Daniels,” he said. His voice had a low, rich timbre which held notes of honesty that made her skin shiver in pleasure.

              “Hi Jason,” she said with genuine sincerity. “It’s nice to meet you.”

              There was another beat of silence where Jason seemed a little unsure as to how to proceed from there. It was almost a little painful for Kat to watch. She could tell he was in need of some kind of companionship—really dying for it—and yet he wasn’t sure how to go about it.

              “Where are you coming from, Jason?” she asked, to try and start the conversation.

              “Up north,” he said vaguely and abruptly.

             
Okaaay
. So clearly he didn’t want to talk about himself.

              “Why’s your brother squinting/glaring at me?” he asked curiously as he stared over her shoulder to where Malcolm was very clearly squinting through his thick glasses in what he thought was a menacing fashion.

              Kat bit her lip to keep her from laughing. “Because he thinks you’re a drifting wizard out to kill for the Dark Lord,” she said with as straight a face as she could manage.

              Jason’s face scrunched up in confusion. “What?” he said. “I look like a wizard?”

Kat couldn’t help but let a giggle escape as she nodded.

Jason’s brow furrowed in absolute bewilderment. “Like
Merlin
?”

              His confusion was so genuine and so real, it was hard for Katrina not to burst out laughing. “I guess so,” she said as she wheezed a little, still unable to stop the laughter.

              Jason split a perplexed look between Malcolm and Kat before shrugging and shaking his head. “I guess wizards have changed since I was a kid,” he muttered, causing Katrina to giggle again. He clearly was still thinking about the long bearded old Merlin.

              “How long has the diner been around?” he asked when she had finally laughed it all out. He looked around the place. It was an old school diner. Not many left like these any more. Formica tabletops, chrome interior, and a thin layer of grease that coated the whole place, evidence of a happy and healthy diner.

              Kat puffed up my cheeks then blew some air out as she thought. “Oh gosh,” she said. “It’s been I guess close to twenty years now? My uncle started it way back when he first got settled in this town. It was his retirement job, as he calls it.” She grinned, thinking of her large and loud voiced uncle.

              “Retirement from what?” Jason asked, curious.

              Kat grinned. She leaned forward as if about to share a secret. Jason grinned, clearly enjoying the conspiratorial nature the conversation had suddenly taken.

“My uncle was part of a motorcycle gang,” she whispered loudly.

              Jason raised a brow in surprise.

              Kat shrugged. “Well, at least that’s what me and the rest of the town believe.
He
soundly denies it. He says he worked in a paper factory in New Jersey for years and years. But you find me a paper factory that requires employees to tattoo club mottos on themselves and has leather vests as uniforms.”

              Jason couldn’t help but grin. It changed the entire outlook of his face. From a brooding darkly attractive man, he turned into a gorgeous model that could be in toothpaste commercials.

              “Quite a character for small town living,” he said.

              Kat nodded. In the upper western part of North Carolina, close enough to be touching Virginia, Peytonville was a small town to be sure. They were too far from all the action of Raleigh or Greenboro or all the beach towns. But there was a very beautiful charm in Peytonville.

              It still carried a lot of architecture from the 1950s and 60s and had beautiful foliage surrounding the streets and city edges. There was no place else in the world that was as beautiful or as a peaceful in Kat’s eyes. Peytonville was home. It had been the place that had rescued her and her brothers and for that, she could never show enough love or gratitude.

              Jason cocked his head, studying her.

              “You like it here,” he said slowly, as if deducing her thoughts straight from her brain. “You like it here a lot.”

              Kat blushed a little. “Pretty obvious, huh?”

              “You’re practically glowing,” he said, smiling.

              “This is my home,” she said simply. “It’s hard not to love it.”

              Jason nodded, as if he could understand the love she bore for the town. He looked out the window towards the main street that ran down the center of downtown.

              “And what do your parents do? Do they work in restaurants as well?” he asked.              

              Kat’s smile faltered just for a second but he had caught it. Immediately his gaze focused in on her, making her feel as if she had his fullest attention.

              “My mother passed away when I was twelve,” she said softly. There was still a dull stinging that pierced her heart whenever she thought of her mother, even thirteen years later.

              “I’m sorry,” Jason said softly.

              There was a beat where the quiet sounds of diner surrounded them. Kat looked up to see Jason staring at her with a look she couldn’t quite understand. All she could tell though was that it held warmth.

              “And your dad?” he asked.

              Kat shook her head. “They divorced when I was about six. But he had never stayed around much before then. I’ve never really known the man,” she said. “After the divorce is when mom moved in with her brother—my uncle. And we’ve been here ever since.”

              She had played at the diner from as early on as she could remember. Her mom had waitressed and managed the place to help her brother. And when her mom had passed, the loving women of Peytonville had all stepped up to become her surrogate mother. They had been the ones to talk her through her first period, buy her first bra, and to shop with her for her first homecoming dress. 

              After another pause, she said, “What about you? You know nearly everything about me now. What about your parents?”

              Jason shrugged and almost grimaced at the mention of his parents. “Mom drank and dad hit,” he said simply. “It wasn’t the best place and I got out of there as soon as possible.”

              “Where did you go?” she asked quietly, taken aback by his frankness.

              “Army,” he answered. “It was the only place I could think of at eighteen.”

              Suddenly it all made sense. There was a quiet strength and hardness to him that made perfect sense in the mold of a soldier. So he was a soldier.

              “Are you at Fort Bragg?” she asked. Fayetteville was quite a way’s away from their small sleepy town.

              Jason shook his head. “I’ll be stopping there on my way out. But I’m not stationed there, no,” he said. The lines of his face seemed to deepen with each word.

              “On your way out?” she asked.

              He nodded. “Iraq this time,” he said.

             
This time
. How many times had he been shipped over? From the lines on his face and the darkening of his eyes, Kat could tell it had been too many times.

              “I…” Kat started but faltered, not wanting to sound ignorant or insensitive. “I thought things were winding down there.”

              He pursed his lips and nodded slowly. “To some extent. But where one group of insurgents falls, another rises. So soldiers will always be needed.”

              “When do you leave?” she asked.

              “In two days,” he replied, keeping his eyes on his cup.

              Slowly, Kat was starting to piece together the mysterious fragments of Jason Daniels. He was a soldier who had clearly seen a lot of battle and had been shipped off one too many times. He was rough and ragged from what he had seen and endured. He was lonely. He was hurt.

              And he had wanted someone to talk to one more time before he left. He had wanted just a few moments of companionship and normal intimacy before he returned to gunfire and rage.

              Kat’s heart felt for him. Although it was through different experiences, she knew of loneliness. She knew of wanting something warm and commonplace—like a mother’s hug—but unable to get it.

              “You know, I—” But before Kat could finish, a gangly shadow crossed their table.

              Kat looked up to see Malcolm glaring down at her. “Some of the other muggles would like their coffee too,” he said.

              Kat looked around. It had gotten a little busier since she had sat down. She nodded and shooed Malcolm away, who reluctantly left.

              Jason immediately felt contrite. “I’m sorry, Katrina,” he said. “I shouldn’t have kept you like this when you’re working.”

              Kat stood up and picked up her coffee pot, which had turned cold by now. “Please, call me Kat,” she corrected. She smiled and then added brightly, “And don’t worry. I never get in trouble here. I’m the boss’s favorite.”