I accept. “What sort of snacks do you have?”
“Fruit, mostly. And I have some cute cutters I could use to make them into flowers or hearts or something?”
Plopping myself on a wooden barstool at his counter, I wiggle. “Do you have a puppy-shaped one?”
He shrugs, tugging his cardigan up over his shoulder. “Let me check. Any preference on fruit? Amia’s in a melon phase, so I have every sort of melon that Rory’s Market has to offer, or I’ve got apples, oranges, cherries, grapes…” He trails off, shrugging. “Maybe we can just assume I have all of the fruits Rory’s has to offer in general?”
I grin. “I’ll take some puppy melons. Any kind is fine.”
He returns my grin, then gets to work preparing the most adorable, elaborate plate of bite-sized melons I have ever had the pleasure of receiving. I tell him so.
Humbly, he shrugs. “It’s nothing fancy. I just used the cutter.”
“Having the cutter is fancy,” I protest. “Duh.”
His eyes roll, but his pleased smile gives him away.
“Why’d you want puppies anyway?” he asks. “I didn’t think you liked dogs?”
“I definitely don’t like dogs,” I agree. “Slobbery, no sense of personal space, and wildly needy?” I shiver. “No, thank you.”
His eyes shift pointedly to my cutie-pie puppy melons.
I stab one with a toothpick helpfully provided, thenchompit. “They’re to match my Dwaekki,” I explain.
Wolfe does not feel learned by this. “What’s a Dwaekki?”
I point to the pink pig-rabbit on my shirt. “This is a Dwaekki. It’s a sort of… animal representation? For one of the members of Stray Kids.” I slide my finger to the side, over theSKZbeside Dwaekki. “One of the other members has a puppy for his representative.” I stab another piece of melon and hold it up beside Dwaekki. “It’s on theme!”
“Stray Kids is K-pop?” he asks. “One of those bands you showed Amia?”
I nod. Truthfully, they’re theonlyband I showed Amia. The rest she got from Almond. “Stray Kids everywhere all around the world,” I confirm, boasting the group’s tagline. “Including in Amia’s speakers. You’re welcome.”
He pulls out an apple and starts peeling it, impressively taking the peel off in one long strip. “I’m grateful,” he says. “There’s only so much kid’s pop a man can take, and if I had to listen to the Frozen soundtrackone more time, our dear Amia would be at the circus right now torturing the clowns with her music instead of me.”
I laugh, visions of Amia trapezing through the air with a squeaky red nose filling my head. “She’d still be pretty cute, even at the circus.”
His light blue eyes soften. “Yeah,” he agrees. “She really would.”
Amia dominates the conversation after that, bringing Wolfe to life as he talks about his daughter, her current interests, her friends, and—most importantly—how much she loves and uses the rock tumbler I got her for her birthday.
“Fox’s is great, too,” he says, helping himself to a piece of my melon. “But we’re keeping his at my parents’ place to do the bigger rocks that need more tumbling time. She’s using yours to tumble smaller rocks that she can have me turn into beads.” He shakes his head in joyful disbelief. “She has grand schemes of making jewelry out of them to save up for a mysterious, large item that I’m ‘not allowed to know about.’”
Consider me curious.
Alas, before I can schedule a time to interrogate my proxy-niece, Fox decides thatnowhe is ready to be a Very Brave Boy and come out of hiding.
I swivel on my barstool, puppy melon held aloft as I lay eyes on my target for the first time today.
Locked, loaded, and ready to pounce, I waste no time getting started on my mission.
Chapter Seventeen
?
Don’t ask me about this plot point. I’m just the author.
Fox
