“Try one.” Bax held it up.
Ew.
“I’m not eating that. It’s a water-vegetable, cheese mix on white bread.” No, thank you. “Who even approved cucumber sandwiches?”
“Tanner’s friends over at the retirement home catered today. You should’ve had them do the wedding, too.” Bax popped one in his mouth. “They soak the cucumbers in vodka overnight, then they add extra vodka to the cream cheese mix. I’m not sure, but I think they even bake it in the bread.” Bax popped another one. “I’ve never been drunk on sandwiches before, but I figured I’ll give it a try while I have the chance. For science.”
What the fuck, Knox had tried weirder. He snagged a tiny little sandwich and licked at the cream cheese along the edge. The damn thing tasted like a distillery. He tossed it down his throat and grabbed another.
“What do they put in the guac?” He leaned over to Linx’s chip bowl.
“Spicy.” Linx held up one bowl. “Not spicy.” He gestured to the other.
Knox scooped some spicy.
Tequila.
“Not spicy is the ring-bearer version.” Linx kicked back, enjoying his apparently virgin guac.
“I’d suggest not mixing your booze,” Bax suggested to Knox, entirely too seriously for a guy getting drunk on cucumber tea sandwiches. “Stick with one or the other.”
Knox turned toward the table of food that looked surprisingly normal, but apparently had been spiked with all the liquor in the Cherry Creek area. This would make the parental meet and greet substantially more tolerable.
“Table’s too far.” He popped another sandwich.
One wouldn’t think vodka and cucumber tea sandwiches would actually taste good, but the amount of vodka made him not even care that he was eating a vegetable.
Fuck, if they’d added vodka to his vegetables in high school, maybe he’d actually have eaten them more often.
“Which of your parents called first-round pick?” Bax asked around another shot of sandwich.
The guys had all grown up on the same street back in the day. Bax and Linx’s parents stayed together, so that left Knox as the odd man out when the divorce was final. Bax’s garage had been his lifeline during those years.
That’s when they’d come up with the idea to start a band, and Dimefront was born.
“Dad got here before her, so he called dibs.” Knox scarfed another sammie. A handful of these and he wouldn’t care that his parents were a mess, the woman he was marrying had already planned a divorce, and his house was a combination of pink and piss.
Dad bunked at Linx’s place. Mom stayed at the Marriott near the airport because being across the street from his dad was entirely too close. Dad called dibs on the first hour of the get-together. Mom agreed to come after. It took some convincing, but Dad conceded to leaving before her car drove up. She agreed to notify them when she was ten minutes out.
Honestly, it’d been the best communication they’d had as a family in over twenty years.
“The whole thing is stupid, and they should learn to be in the same room together,” Knox said, expressly not grabbing another sandwich because he should probably try to stand up when Irina’s parents arrived.
“You come up with a plan yet to show Irina she can’t live without you?” Linx asked, still munching on chips.
“My plan is to marry her.” Knox frowned, because that’s as far as he’d gotten with the plan. Which meant it was more of a one-item to-do list versus an actual laid-out plan.
“All right.” Linx set the chips and guac on the coffee table, and brushed the salt from his hands onto his jeans. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. First thing? We’re coming up with a plan.”
“Becca loves when I sing to her. You tried that?” Linx asked, scooping more guacamole.
“No.” Knox elbowed them both, so they’d give him some space.
Linx clapped his hands like he’d done something special. “Then that’s step one.”
“Step two is to cook for her,” Bax nodded as he spoke. “That worked for Courtney.”
“I already cooked for her.”
