Page 42 of The Birthday List (Maysen Jar 1)

The man glared up at Poppy as she scowled back. Was that what this guy did? He came into her restaurant and criticized her food all damn day? I opened my mouth to put this old geezer in his place—no one glared at Poppy—but the corner of her mouth twitched.

“Oh, stop.” She waved off his glare and smiled. “Randall James. Meet Cole Goodman.”

Randall turned to acknowledge me. He looked me up and down twice, each time his eyes lingering a bit on my gun.

I held out my hand first, and he shocked the shit out of me by actually taking it. “Nice to meet you, Randall.”

“Same.”

“Do you want some dinner?” Poppy asked me.

“Please. Surprise me, but don’t forget my dessert this time.”

“Last weekend I made up a new mixed berry pie in honor of the Fourth. I haven’t added them to the menu yet but they’re available. Do you want to try one of those or an apple pie?”

“What!” Randall nearly came off his stool before I could answer. “You said you ran out of those berry pie things earlier.”

“No, I said you ran out.” She pointed at his chest. “You know the rules. Five pies are all you get in a twenty-four-hour period.”

“I don’t know why I keep coming here and taking this crap.” Randall spun around on his stool. “I’m leaving. Don’t count on me coming back.”

His threat didn’t faze Poppy. “Don’t forget your coffee.” She turned and grabbed a to-go cup and filled it from the coffee pot on the back wall.

Randall grunted as he slipped on his cap and prepared his cane. Then he took the cup from Poppy’s hand and started shuffling toward the door.

“See you tomorrow,” Poppy called to his back.

Randall just shook his head and kept walking.

“Cheerful guy,” I teased.

Poppy laughed. “And you caught him on a good day. Yesterday he threatened to leave me a bad Yelp review because I wouldn’t make him six espressos. But he’ll be back tomorrow to keep me and Molly company.”

“Grouchy exterior, heart of gold?” I guessed.

“Exactly.” She smiled. “Hang tight, I’ll get your food. Do you want to sit up here or at a table?”

“Would you sit—”

“Poppy—” Molly came rushing out of the kitchen, interrupting my dinner invitation, but stopped when she spotted me. “Oh, hey, Cole. How are you?”

“Good.” I returned her smile. “Just getting dinner.”

“Perfect timing! Poppy was just going to take a dinner break too. You can keep each other company.”

I guess I didn’t need to ask Poppy to eat with me after all. Thanks, Molly.

“I never should have told you,” Poppy muttered.

Told her what?

“Are you going to eat with Cole?” Molly’s smile got wider as I looked between her and Poppy. “Yes or no, Poppy-bear?”

“Yes.”

“And tomorrow, are you going to take the morning off? Yes or no?”

Poppy’s teeth gritted. “Yes.”