A split second later, Dee returned with our drinks. She pulled a notepad and pen from the front of her apron. "Have you decided what you'd like to eat?" Of course, she looked to Jax first, and then at me, as if I were nothing more than an inconvenience. An afterthought. If she only knew who and what I was. . .

"I'll have the Belgian waffles with strawberries and whipped cream," I said.

Dee nodded. "Good choice. Would you like a side of bacon with that? Or ...