Grandma Wells would’ve kicked Lou Ellen in the ass if she knew she was having dinner with a man whose name she didn’t even know—especially one who looked as down and out as her silent knight did. She probably was the fool her mother would have called her too, but she technically owed this man her life, or at least a portion of her sanity.

The only one who’d probably understand her decision was her best friend, Allison Rooks. Allie believed in going with her gut instinct, which had served her well many for years with her no-account ex-husband and now in Washington as a Texas Senator.

Allie would appreciate this man’s well-seasoned snark and way of speaking as much as Lou did, and would be just as intrigued. Like Lou, she would also want to know why this obviously educated man was living in the shadows of humanity.

If the cost of a dinner got Lou Ellen those answers, she would count it well worth it. As long as she was inside the bar, she knew Joseph, the barkeep, would keep an eye out for her. She’d been coming here a long time now, stopping in for a nightcap after she volunteered at the shelter twice a month. Bruno would handle things outside, if something went awry.

The first thing she was going to do, however, was find out his name. He surprised her by grabbing the door to open it for her. Once inside, she stopped and turned to hold out her hand.

“I’m Lou Ellen Wells,” she said, and his eyebrows pinched together as he stared at her hand.

He glanced at the bar then his gaze moved around the room before he looked back at her and wiped his hand on his pants. He clasped her hand with his as his blue eyes held hers and the heat of his palm melded their hands together. The gentle squeeze he gave her fingers sent warmth spreading up her arm to radiate through her body. He pulled her arm to bring her closer, then leaned down.

“Just call me Griff, and it’s nice to meet you, Ms. Wells,” he whispered near her ear.

Lou Ellen’s knees melted like butter as the delicious tenor of his voice rumbled through her. She pulled her hand away, but it still tingled as she took an unsteady step back.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Griff. Now, let’s get you some food,” she said, turning to walk to the bar. When she stopped to remove her coat, Griff was behind her, helping her. She folded it over her arm and leaned on the bar.

“Hey, Lou—I thought you were going home?” Joe asked, as he walked up to the bar.

“I was, but I met this nice gentleman outside and convinced him to try one of your Kitchen Sink burgers. Bring fries with it and a slice of Emma’s apple pie. I’ll have another cider, please.”

Joseph glanced over her shoulder at Griff and frowned. Lou Ellen opened her mouth, because she knew that look. Joe had used it more than once to corral an unruly drunk. But he wouldn’t be using it today. It was Thanksgiving, and this man was her guest.

“What’ll you have to drink, bud? Whiskey? Gin?” Joe asked snidely, fisting the bar towel. “Shot or a double? Or should I bring a bottle?”

“No, iced tea, please. I don’t drink,” Griff replied evenly. The men stared each other down for a minute more, before Joe nodded and turned away. “This was a bad idea, Queenie. I know that look, so he’s probably in back calling the police.”

He better not be, or there will be hell to pay.

“Let’s find a table,” she said, ignoring him to take his arm and lead him to an open table near the end of the bar.

He pulled his arm away to slide a chair out and waited for her to sit. God, how long had it been since a man pulled out a chair for her? Too long, she thought, draping her coat over the chair beside her, before casting him a smile as she sat down. Griff took the chair to her left at the round table and huffed out a breath.

Lou Ellen reached out to put her hand on his forearm. “Let’s pretend we’re doing this before whatever happened to you, okay? Just relax and enjoy your meal.”

He looked at her out of the corner of his eyes. “How do you know there was a time before? Maybe I’ve always been a homeless, worthless bum.”

“Because I’m a good judge of character, and I’m not judging you based on what I see now. I’m judging based on the man who jumped into a situation that wasn’t his business to protect me. That man is a hero and worthy of respect.”

Griff laughed. “Jesus, woman, you’re making me blush.”

“But you sure didn’t hesitate to judge me, did you?” she asked, tilting her head as she pulled her hand back.

“What’s to judge?” His eyes dulled and his brows drew together, forming a crevice between them. “I see a beautiful, obviously wealthy, woman who’s showing mercy on a worthless bum. I’m still working out the why of it. Maybe I’m just another of your Junior League social projects. You’re wasting your time if that’s the case. I don’t want to be saved.”

Anger surged up to choke her as she folded her arms over her chest. “I haven’t offered to save you. I offered you a meal. Stop being an asshole and dig deep to find your forgotten manners, or I’ll leave you here to eat it alone.”

That muscle by his right eye ticked again and she imagined from the sway of his beard, he was grinding his teeth but Lou Ellen didn’t break eye contact.

“I apologize for being rude,” he said, looking away. “Thank you for the meal.”

Joe came around the end of the bar and set a mug of cider with a cinnamon stick in it in front of her, before placing a glass of iced tea in front of Griff. “Burger will be up in ten minutes,” he grumbled as he walked away.

“So, tell me about it,” Lou Ellen encouraged, as she stirred the cider with the cinnamon stick. She had a feeling getting anything out of this man would take patience, so she would go slow. “What was your life like before this? From your actions in the alley, I know you’re former military. Let’s start there.”

“I can’t tell you,” Griff replied, bringing his glass to his mouth for a long sip. He set it down, then looked at her. “If that’s the price of this meal, I’ll be going now.”

“There is no price for this meal.” It was her turn to frown at him. “Did you forget your social skills as well as your manners? This is called conversation.”

“I guess I have forgotten. Five years is a long time,” he replied soberly.

“At least tell me where you’re from, what you did in the military and for which branch,” she said with a sigh.

“Georgia, Army and classified,” he replied shortly.

“So you were spec ops,” she surmised.

Cade Winters, soon to be Dr. Cade Winters, who formerly worked with Deep Six, had the highest classification there was in the Army, then he served in Delta Force before he joined the CIA. She highly suspected this man had a similar background. All of the men she worked with were former special operators.

His head whipped on his shoulders and his eyes narrowed as he looked at her. “How in the hell would you know that? Why would you think it?”

“The way you move, your attitude. I work with a team of former special operators,” she replied and his eyes widened.

“Yeah, I think you’re definitely off the meds, Queenie,” he said with a laugh. “Or maybe you need to have your doctor up them.”

“I’m not crazy—I’m the office manager for Deep Six Security. We can help you with whatever problem you have, if you let us, then maybe you could come to work for us. We need operators for our new east coast office.”

Joe arrived with the hamburger right then and set the plate down by Griff’s arm. He looked up at him. “I need a go box now. I have to go,” he growled. With a nod, the barkeep left and Lou Ellen put her hand on his forearm again, but he pushed it off.

“What in the hell is wrong with you? I offer to help you get off the streets and you want to run away? Maybe you are the one who needs meds,” she snapped.

“I told you I don’t want to be saved—I can’t be saved. Just mind your own business, lady, so I can stay alive.” He picked up his tea and downed it then glared at her. “Now, I’m going to walk you to your car and you are going to forget you ever met me. Got that?”

Forget she ever met him? That was as unlikely as her forgetting it would be Christmas in a month and that this man would likely be celebrating it in a tent under a bridge, because he was too damned stubborn to let someone give him a helping hand. The scared look on his face said there was a reason for that, and she was going to find out what it was. With or without his help.