“Yep.”
“You had twoenormousburritos at lunch, plus rice.”
“Awww.” I tilted my head to one side. “Yes, I did! Sweet of you to notice.” Probably keeping an account of all that I ate to make sure he got his money’s worth.
“And a peanut butter banana sandwich two hours ago.”
“For I wither without protein,” I confirmed with a nod.
“So how can you possibly be thinking of eating again?” He folded his arms across his chest.
“Well.” I blinked at him again. “You were talking about coffee cups—yawn—which made me think of coffee. And that made me think about the giant pear muffins with streusel topping over at Panini Jack’s—you know the ones?”
I moved my fingers in the sprinkling gesture that was the universal sign for streusel topping to stress my point and watched in delight as Knox’s nostrils flared in exasperation.
“—because Hawkins brought me some of those muffins last night after his shift. And thinking of Hawk made me thinksweetie pie, because really he is one?—”
“If this devolves into your fantasies about my barely legal brother?—”
I held up a finger. “Hawk is twenty-three, a year younger than I am. He’s not just legal, he’ssuperlegal. Also,knock knock.”
He rolled his eyes. “Who’s there?”
“Interrupting homicidal cow.”
Knox scowled. “Wha?—?”
“Moooooo, motherfucker! Now, stop interrupting me before I shank you. Ahem.”
Knox’s mouth dropped open in disbelief. God, I was good at making him insane, and God, I enjoyed it. There was nothing as satisfying as having your talents and your passions overlap, was there?
“Where was I? Oh, right. Sopiemade me think of your Uncle Drew and how he said at breakfast that he was going to themarket today for the last summer plums to make a plum ginger tart—which isnota pie, but is pie-adjacent, and sounds fucking life-changing?—”
“Pie-adjacent is not a word.” Knox rubbed both hands over his face tiredly. “And your mind scares the shit out of me. Look, I am trying to have a simple conversation in which I explain?—”
“Butthatmade me remember that Drew also said he’d pick up the last of the summer sweet corn,” I went on blithely. “Andthatsort of distracted me because I don’t think I ever noticed that corn had a season before. I mean, strawberries, sure. We have a strawberry festival not too far from my hometown in Florida, and literally everyone in the world loves it—” I broke off to inspect Knox’s scowly face for a second and wrinkled my nose. “I mean,youmight not.”
Knox shook his head like he wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve this fate.
I’d have happily reminded him.
“But then thinking of corn made my stomach growl, and I remembered your sister said she was making turkey burgers with the butterkase cheese that Mr…. uh…” I closed my eyes and snapped my fingers. “Your neighbor with the mustache who makes the cheese?”
“Norm Avery,” he bit out, like it pissed him off to answer my question but he couldn’t help himself, ’cause he was a know-it-all like that.
“Right! Yes. Him.” I popped my eyes open. “I remembered Emma’s making turkey burgers with the butterkase Mr. Avery brings, and then my stomach growled, and I felt a little faint, and I thought how sad it would be if I died of starvation before I ate one last meal, and I resolved to keep myself alive just for the butterkase.” I shrugged again, inviting him to see reason. “And so, you see, I couldn’t actually pay attention to your talky talk.”
Knox stared at me for a beat, like he couldn’t quite believe I was a real human. Then he tipped his head back so he could speak to the rafters.
“Is this guy some sort of punishment, Lord?” he demanded. “An eleventh plague? Because, I have to ask… why not locusts? Locusts are a classic.”
Despite the insult, I had to bite my cheek to keep from smiling, which was another thing that was extremely unfair. No one who irrationally disliked me was allowed to have that dry, quirky, seriously appealing sense of humor, damn it! But Knox’s all-day conversations with God—which were the opposite of prayerful—made it hard to remember that.
“I’m way cuter than a plague of locusts.” I smiled and batted my eyelashes winningly.
Knox stared at me again. “You’re perpetually hungry, selectively hard of hearing, and incapable of rinsing a coffee mug and putting it directly in the dishwasher, even though that’s by far the most efficient way to do things.”
I peered at him over the table and nodded solemnly. “What I hear you saying is that you think I’m cute,” I lied.
