“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m allergic to tree nuts.” I couldn’t risk any of the nuts having touched the pastries below.
For a beat, surprise flashed in his eyes, then it was gone so fast I wondered if I’d imagined it.
“No need to apologize.” He closed the box and set it aside without any fuss. “Good to know. Any other allergies?”
“Nope. Well, sometimes I want to throat-punch anyone who wears too much cologne or perfume, but that’s probably not really an allergy.” I grabbed a creamer and two sugars.
He chuckled and took a sip of his coffee. “That’s the worst, and they have no clue. Or maybe they do and want to torture everyone.”
We sat across from each other at the picnic table, the morning sun warm on my back.
I pulled the knife from my pocket and placed it on the table between us. “Here’s the infamous knife.”
Lucan picked it up and examined it, opening each tool.
“How long have you been in the area?” He placed the knife back on the table, his eyes meeting mine.
“About a week. Five nights camping, now this.” I gestured toward the RV.
“What brought you to Ashford?”
I took a sip of coffee, buying myself time. “I needed somewhere quiet to figure things out,” I said finally. “Ashford seemed like a place where nobody would bother me.”
His mouth quirked up at one corner. “How’s that working out for you?”
I laughed despite myself. “Well, I’ve been harassed by wildlife, found a mysterious knife, and gotten roped into family dinners with people I just met. So not exactly the hermit experience I was going for.”
“Planning to stay?”
The question hung in the air between us. I should have had a quick answer and said I was passing through, that I’d be gone as soon as I sold the knife. Instead, I actually considered it.
“Depends on a few things.”
He looked like he wanted to ask more questions but put his hand on the knife. “I’ll give you twenty for it.”
“Twenty what? Twenty dollars? Because if so, you’re insane.”
“Twenty thousand.”
The coffee cup stopped halfway to my lips. “The appraisal said eighteen.”
He shrugged. “In a few years, it’ll be worth even more. I don’t mind paying for quality.”
My mouth dropped open, and the bridge of my nose burned with the threat of tears. “I couldn’t possibly accept that.” I looked over at his work truck and lifted my chin in that direction. “Are you also panning for gold?”
He smirked. “Maybe I am. I’ve always been drawn to shiny things.”
I let out a long breath. “Okay. Twenty thousand.”
“How do you want the money?”
I stared at him, my brain apparently having taken a coffee break at the worst possible moment. The words bounced around in my head without connecting to anything resembling comprehension.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“The money.” He gestured to the knife still sitting between us. “Do you prefer a bank transfer? Cash? Check? Gold coins? I could probably rustle some up if you’re feeling particularly pirate-ish today.”
That broke through my shock enough to make me laugh. “I don’t think the grocery store takes those.”
