She watched him sit in her periphery and take off the coat and scarf, and then went back to her contemplation, determined to avoid contact and equally determined to give in to her foul mood and brood.

The problem was, she was raised better than that, and the manners her mom hammered into her had her sitting upright and smiling, which she hoped didn’t look too much like a snarl.

“The bacon and eggs are great.”

She was subjected to a cool-eyed stare and brief, curt nod. His eyes then went back to the menu he was holding.

“I think we’re in for a storm.”

His eyes went to the window, taking in the gray skies.

“Maybe even snow.”

The eyes came back her way. Way too good looking, Piper thought. And the fact that he couldn’t open his mouth to return her attempt at conversation had her temper twitching. She was just being polite; what would it hurt him to be the same? After all, this was her table he was sharing.

“You here on vacation?”

“No.”

She waited, but nothing else came. Piper should just ignore him—after all, he was nothing to her—but it wasn’t in her nature to let something alone, especially when that something was pissing her off.

“You live here then?” She’d give him one last shot at playing nice.

“No.”

She picked up her coffee and drank the last of it, then slapped it back down on the table. He watched the movement, but the blank expression never changed.

“The world loves a trier but even I can see a lost cause when it’s sitting like a dark cloud across from me.”

“What?”

Piper got to her feet. “I don’t know what the hell your problem is, but you should try conversing. It’s how we normal people communicate.”

Surprise had the first spark of emotion entering those cool blue eyes.

“Maybe I don’t want to converse.”

The words sounded gruff and unused.

“Well you’re in luck, because I don’t fancy sharing your company any longer either.”

“What the hell is your problem?” His brows drew together. “I just came in here for a coffee, not to make friends, and you’re giving me this shit.”

“This shit,” Piper gritted out, “is called manners. But as your momma didn’t raise you with any, I’m leaving. Because mine did, and life sure isn’t long enough to waste time with you. FYI, I don’t want a new friend either, but I can still converse with a stranger... it’s called being polite, you asshole!”

“Are you crazy? I don’t even know you. Why the hell are you so bent out of shape because I didn’t launch into a conversation about the weather!”