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and nearby structures. He chose a parking place directly in front of the main doors which would allow him to drive straight out. He cataloged the exterior features of the All-Day All-Night Diner, not so much the 1970s architecture, but the construction of the building—the windows, the doorways, any ladders going up to the roof, the roofline.

Inside, he again determined each exit, including a possible route through the kitchen galley where one waitress and one cook were currently doing tasks related to their respective jobs. He scanned the booths and tables, noting only two patrons, both male. Each appeared to be simply having a coffee or small meal, no doubt either getting an early start or taking a break on a long drive. The overweight white guy at the counter Nik assigned to the big rig alongside the parking lot. The black man in the booth he paired with a compact silver SUV. Judging from his dress pants and shoes, traveling salesman would be his first guess.

Old habits. Nik liked staying aware of his surroundings. Besides, it kept him rooted in the here and now, which was a far better place than the uncertain future or the unshakeable past.

Normally Nik would’ve gone for a table—easier to get in and out of—but he suspected Tigger would be more comfortable in a booth. He picked one close to an exit and away from the other two patrons, and slid in. He could easily see all the doorways as well as out the front windows to his Rubicon where Titan’s head currently stuck out of the backseat window. The beast was also assessing his surroundings. Probably figuring out the best bushes to piss on.

Confident in his table choice, Nik settled in and handed Tigger, who’d trailed behind him without her usual spring in her step, a menu. Opening one for himself, he figured he’d get the Hungry Man breakfast special and a few cups of black coffee. “What looks good to you?”

She stared blankly as she leafed through the six laminated pages showcasing every comfort food known to America. “Pancakes are fine.”

“Just pancakes? Aren’t you hungry?”

“I’m starving… I…I don’t know what looks good to me.”

“What’s your favorite?” he tossed out, grimacing as he realized his mistake.

“Don’t laugh.”

She’d misread his expression. He didn’t find it funny. In fact, his chest tightened as he noted the defeat in her voice matched the sullen look on her face. Guilt for giving her crap about the hooker stuff set in. He’d simply forgotten the hell she must be going through, not knowing who she was or who she could trust. It must’ve been terrifying to be wounded and trapped in a hotel room with a gun-toting stranger.

He hadn’t done himself any favors reacting so aggressively by trapping her against the bathroom vanity, either. Thankfully, or maybe cursedly if her constant flirting had been any indication, she’d figured out his motive there had had more to do with passion than anything else. Still, he hadn’t handled this situation well and he didn’t like failure. He could do better.

“I know all these words. I can read. I know what the foods are,” she bit off with defensiveness. Underlying her words, she was trying to tell him she wasn’t stupid. Shit, he knew that. Even with a head injury and in shock, she was more intelligent and quick-thinking than most.

“Swear I wasn’t laughing.”

She continued, exasperated, “I don’t know if I like the taste of any of them.” She let the brightly colored menu fall to the table and dropped her face into her hands. “Order for me, please.”

His stomach knotted seeing his Tigger so deflated. Any doubts Nik had about her memory loss evaporated. He’d looked at some pretty sketchy menus in foreign countries and not known how to order, but he could always find some way of figuring out what he’d like to eat. Before he could quell her humiliation or work through some of the things on the menu, the waitress, wearing a gold and brown uniform and a nametag reading Wanda, appeared. “What can I get you folks?”

“Morning, ma’am. Is it only breakfast right now?”

“Naw, hun. All menu all-day, all-night exactly like our name. Order anything you want.”

“Well, alrighty then…” He sat back as he gave his fisted knuckles a crack over the menu. “Let’s start with the Big Country Smasher breakfast, one egg over easy and one scrambled. It comes with both hash browns and pancakes, right? And it looks like only one meat, but I’ll need both bacon and sausage, so add one as a side, please. Oh, and a sweet roll. A cheeseburger—all the veggies—mustard and mayo on the side, and fries with that. Then, this chicken strip dinner looks good. Mashed potatoes, but can you do the gravy on the side? Steamed veggies. Meatloaf with onion rings and corn.” Nik closed the menu. “And what desserts do you have?”

The aged waitress’s eyes widened as she finished scribbling down the order. “We have chocolate pie, banana cream, apple, and cherry.”

“A slice of each. Vanilla ice cream on the side of the apple, chocolate with the chocolate pie, whipped cream on the cherry.”

Wanda stopped writing, long past growing suspicious. “Look, I don’t know if you’re pranking me right now, but we get a lot of dine-n-dashers at this hour. If this is really what you want, you’ll need to pay up front.”

“Not a problem. Consider this a down payment.” Nik pulled out his wallet and set a hundred-dollar bill down.

She took the money and cocked a heavily penciled-in eyebrow. “And to drink?”

“Iced tea, please.”

“Sweet or unsweet?”

“Both, and water with lemon…on the side.”

“Uh-huh. And for you, miss?”

A flash of panic skidded across Tigger’s face, but Nik interjected, “Oh, that is for her. Doesn’t look like a hearty eater, but trust me, she’s a real tiger when it comes to food.”

An amused spark fired in the coppery eyes across the table from him, but Nik stayed in character. “I’m watching what I eat, so a side salad

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