Page 63 of All the way home

“Bonus points for people who seem like they’ve recently been poisoned.”

Holy fuck.

Mara is going to flip a table when Zach tells her about this.

Barely, he manages a flustered, “Oh.”

A little too pleased with himself, Kieran straightens, checks his watch, and blanches. “We should get back to the gate if we’re boarding for a four-fifteen departure.”

Zach blinks down at his tray, startled to find that he’s actually managed to get through all but one bite of his burger.

“You can meet Rena properly,” Kieran says, sounding pleased. “And Lucas.”

Wonderful, Zach thinks. More people.

Just what he needs.

Chapter Twenty

Rena

“We should eat,” Lucas notes.

As the crush of noise at the gate rises even higher, so do Rena’s hackles. She shifts in her seat, trying to tune out the family squabble in the next aisle. “I brought granola bars.”

“No, I mean dinner.”

Distracted by a child’s shout, Rena winces and hunches her shoulders. “Granola bars can be dinner.”

“Rena.” Lucas’s tone has gone very pointed. “Real food.”

“But our bags—”

“Excuse me, sir?” Lucas twists to the man across the aisle from them. “Would you mind watching our seats and our bags for a few minutes?”

Rena hadn’t realized he was awake.

For the last hour, he’s been dozing with his chin against his chest, shiny bald spot reflecting the fluorescent lighting, white tufted mustache fluttering with every deep breath. But at Lucas’s question, he turns, peering at them over his glasses, blinking as though weighing whatever he’s seeing in them. Then he nods and presses a hand to his rounded stomach. “Bags safe with me.”

Lucas smiles. “Thanks, Gianni.”

Rena stares at him. Somehow, Lucas is on a first-name basis with the man. Startled, she echoes, “Thanks, Gianni.”

Then she stands and follows Lucas, taking his outstretched hand.

“Gianni?” she asks when they’re out of earshot.

“Yeah,” Lucas says. “He was reading a golf magazine, earlier. We got chatting when you were gone.”

“Chatting,” Rena repeats, skeptical.

“Yeah, it’s this thing some people do.” Lucas laughs when she elbows him, sidestepping her range. “No, he’s just really nice, is all.”

As always, when they get to the food court, Rena guards a table while Lucas gets the food. And as always, when he returns with two bowls of soup, Lucas slides into the chair next to hers, instead of across. They’d tried sitting across from each other on their first few coffee dates, but Rena had hated everything about it—the eye contact, constantly leaning forward to hear him, feeling so self-conscious of everything she was doing with her hands.

“Thank you.” She takes her bowl, leaning forward to smell.

Instead of a real response, Lucas leans over and plants a wet kiss on her cheek.