Totally Worth Christmas (The Worth Series, Book 4.5: A Copper Country Novella) by Mara Jacobs Page B

club,” she finally said, then turned and walked away. When she reached the counter, she put the coffee pot back on the burner and went through the swinging doors.
    What the hell had he just done? Totally uncool. She was probably hustling out the back door. Or getting a big, beefy short-order cook to come out and kick Charlie's ass.
    The door swung again and Charlie braced his hands on the edge of the table, fearing the worst. But no burly cook came out with the waitress. She was alone, carrying a tray. She made her way over to the only other table with diners—a couple in their twenties who sat on the same side of the booth together. She took the bill and cash that they held out to her, and she said something Charlie didn't hear. She made her way over to him as the couple left the booth, put on their jackets and left the diner.
    Leaving Charlie alone with his dream girl. And potentially a kitchen full of people.
    She made her way to Charlie, putting the money the couple had left her in her apron pocket, still balancing the smallish tray on the open palm of her right hand.
    “Hey, I didn't mean to freak you out or anything,” he said to her as she stopped in front of him. “I just…” He couldn't finish. She'd turned those rich brown eyes on him, and he lost all thought.
    “You didn't freak me out,” she said, as she pulled a plate from her tray and set it in front of him.
    He stared down at the plate, which was covered with a very generous helping of pie.
    “Banana cream,” she said. “Gladdie makes the most amazing banana cream pie you've ever tasted.”
    He took his eyes from the enormous confection and looked up at her. She was so close to him that if he moved his elbow, it would graze her nicely-curved hip. Much as he wanted to, he didn't move his elbow, but instead picked up his fork and took a bite of pie.
    Rich, creamy and yet light-as-air taste exploded in his mouth. “Oh my God,” he said, his mouth still full.
    A bright smile crossed her face. It was sweeter than the pie. “I know, right? To die for isn't it?”
    He nodded, stunned by her thousand-watt smile. She left him again, but this time she didn't return to the kitchen, but instead, locked the front door, turning the “open” sign around. Then she flipped a switch, turning the outside sign light off.
    “Are you closing?” he said.  
    Idiot. Of course she was closing. “I mean, do you need me—”
    She held up a hand as she walked to the wall at the far side of the room and turned off some of the lights. Most of them, really, except for the one nearest Charlie and the ones over the counter.
    “You're fine. I've got lots more to do yet. It’s my night to do all the post-close stuff. Enjoy your pie.”
    He enjoyed the view more. Watching her turn off things, and cleaning others. Charlie had never eaten more slowly in his life. His forkfuls barely held any of the voluminous pie, trying to make it last as long as possible, while she finished the business of closing up.  
    Finally, he’d finished the pie and it seemed she’d finished her tasks. She made her way over to his booth. “So, was the pie better than going to a strip club?”
    “Definitely,” he said, smiling at her, waving at his empty plate. “Thanks.”
    “No problem,” she said. He expected her to walk away, or hand him his coat, but she just stood there, watching him.
    “You’re probably in a rush to get out of here, to get home.” He tried to put some questioning in his voice, and tried not to look too pathetic… or too hopeful.
    She shrugged, leaning her hip against the back of the booth facing him. “Umm, well, I have finished up all the stuff I’m supposed to…” He sat quietly, not moving a muscle, hoping there was a “but” at the end of that trail off. “But,” (Thank you, God!) “there are always more things that can be done.”
    “Before you start those, do you want to sit down? Would you like to talk a little? I’m Charlie, by the way.” He