“Want to bet?”
“Okay, technically they are because of the seeds and everything, but we eat them in pie. That makes them an honorary fruit. Try it. It’s really good.”
He had his doubts. “Why pumpkin bread?”
“Because of Thanksgiving. It’s this Thursday. Remember?”
He didn’t remember, mostly because he didn’t do holidays. Not anymore. When it had been only him and Maddie, he’d worked hard to make the holidays special. His sister had just been a kid when they’d lost their folks. But lately…what was the point?
“So the restaurant will be closed,” he said, not asking a question. He’d have to fix his own breakfast. Actually, he’d probably not bother with food. Cooking was too much trouble.
Darcy’s gaze narrowed. “Tell me, Detective, what exactly are your plans for the holiday?”
“Is my order ready yet?”
She nodded her head. “I knew it. You’re the solitary type, aren’t you? You’ll spend the day by yourself, moping.”
He glared at her. “I don’t mope.”
“But youwillbe alone.”
He waved at the half-full Hip Hop Café. “Don’t you have other customers?”
She glanced around. “Not really, but thanks for asking. My point is, no one should spend the holidays alone. You need to get out.”
He was saved by the bell—literally. The sharp ring cut through the diner and sent Darcy back toward the kitchen. Less than a minute later she appeared with his breakfast.
“I mean it,” she said. “Solitude makes the holidays more difficult than they have to be. Don’t you have any family in town?”
He thought about his sister, who would spend the long weekend traveling. “No.”
“Then come to my place. I’m fixing a turkey with all the trimmings. Everything is homemade. There will be lots of people there. You’ll love it. You won’t even have to talk if you don’t want to. Although it wouldn’t hurt you to be a tad more chatty, if you ask me.”
He groaned. The last thing he needed was to fall into the clutches of some health-nut do-gooder. She’d probably use tofu in her stuffing and want to talk about the importance of giving back to the community.
He opened his mouth to refuse her invitation, but she was gone. Seconds later, she reappeared with coffee, pouring quickly, then leaving.
For the next ten minutes, she took care of her other customers, argued about what they were ordering and avoided Mark’s table. He had plenty of time to think up fifteen reasons he would refuse her invitation. Yet when she brought him his bill, he found himself unable to say anything to bring sadness to her bright, expectant smile.
“What time?” he asked, trying to sound gracious and failing miserably.
Her expression turned startled. “You’re accepting?”
“Change your mind already?”
“No. Not at all. Say four? We’ll eat at five.” She hesitated. “Do you know where I live?” Instantly she blushed. “Dumb question.”
For the first time that day, possibly for the first time in several days, Mark smiled. “Yeah, Darcy. I know where you live.”
* * *
Darcy Montague leaned her head against the front of her locker and groaned. The good news was she could now nominate herself for idiot of the month. What on earth had she been thinking?
“Please don’t tell me that you’re banging your head against the wall,” Janie Carson Austin, who managed the Hip Hop, said as she stepped into the small storeroom. “You’re one of my most dependable staff members and if I think you’re going off the deep end, it’s going to put a crimp in my holiday spirit.”
Darcy straightened and forced herself to smile at her boss. “No head banging. I promise. Just a reflection on the state of my life.”
“Which is?” Janie asked.
