Page 65 of Knox

The woman had bright blue eyes and a wide, winning smile. Her badge indicated that her name was Dolores. “Right this way.” She grabbed two paper placemats and two sets of silverware rolled in napkins, then led us to a booth by the window. “How’s this?”

Sloane slid onto the bench and grinned. “Perfect. Thank you.”

“Y’all are just the cutest couple,” Dolores said, setting our table with the contents of her hands. “How long have you been together?”

“Not long,” I said, taking the seat across from Sloane. My legs tangled with hers beneath the table. The contact was electric, even through denim.

“But it feels like forever in the best way,” she added.

“That’s the way it should be,” Dolores said, handing us menus. “I’ll give you a minute to look over the options.”

I scanned the items under the lunch section, intensely aware of Sloane across from me. The way she bit her lower lip while reading and the small furrow between her brows when she concentrated. I especially liked the way her foot pressed against my ankle as if she needed the contact as much as I did.

“What are you thinking?” she asked, looking up. “For food.”

I stifled a smirk at her clarification. “Burger. Maybe fries.” I set down the menu. “You?”

“Grilled cheese and tomato soup. It’s comfort food, and after that last call with the sheriff, I need the comfort from this food.”

When Dolores returned, we ordered, and I found myself asking for a milkshake on impulse. Chocolate. My favorite as a kid.

“Make it two straws,” Sloane added.

“Oh, y’all are adorable,” Dolores said, scribbling on her pad. “Young love. Nothing sweeter.”

When she walked away, I raised an eyebrow. “Two straws?”

“Couples share milkshakes.”

“I have never in my life shared my ice cream,” I said.

Her lips curved into a slight smile but worry still lined her brow.

The food arrived quickly, and I found myself relaxing, despite the tension from our day.

Sloane stole fries from my plate, checking my expression each time, as if I might complain.

This was nice. Simple. Except for the bomb Nash had dropped.

And the fact nothing about our new relationship was real.

“Do you want to talk about what Nash said?” I asked.

She shook her head.

For a few minutes, we just ate. The clinking silverware, murmured conversations, and music from the jukebox wrapped around us like insulation from everything outside those walls. The fear, the investigation, the killer who’d followed us to Raleigh.

In here, we were just two people sharing a meal. I wanted to hold onto that feeling as long as I could. Sloane stole another fry from my plate, watching my reaction. “You’re going to keep doing that, aren’t you?” I asked.

“Yep. Tell me something I don’t know about you,” she said, dragging my fry through ketchup. “I need a big distraction, and the comfort food is failing.”

“Pass.”

“Come on,” she urged. “I’ll do it too.”

I thought of everything Sloane had been through, and all she was still going through, and I caved. “I’m terrified of birds.”

Sloane’s laugh was bright and surprised. “You’re kidding.”