Page 113 of Bridesmaid Undercover
His expression morphs into mirth before he turns back to his menu. We all take a few minutes to figure out what we’re going to get and when the server stops by our table, we order drinks and our food at the same time.
Hardy went with the burger and a craft beer. Timothy ordered a veggie burger—found out he’s a vegetarian—and a lager. Maple—also a vegetarian—went with a salad and a water while I ordered a soup bowl and an alcoholic lime seltzer.
“Soup bowl sounds good,” Hardy says. “Maybe I should have gone for that.”
“You can have some of mine if you let me eat some of your fries.”
“Ooo, I don’t know about that, Plum. I’m a real fry fiend.”
I shrug. “Your loss, because I know you’re going to crave my soup the minute it’s placed in front of me.”
He scratches the side of his beard. “You’re right, I probably will. One sniff will push me over the edge. Fine, but you are limited on how many fries you can have.”
“And how many would that be?” I ask him.
“Five.”
“Five?” I nearly shout. “And how much access do you have to my soup?”
“Unlimited.”
“Uh, no deal. Five fries for unlimited access to my soup, how is that fair?”
“I never said I was going to be fair.”
“I’d reconsider your offer, because right now, there’s no way I’d share my soup with you.”
“We’ll see when the food gets out here.”
I fold my arms. “Yes, we’ll see.”
Hardy turns to Maple and Timothy who are quiet on their side of the booth. “You guys going to fight over Maple’s salad?”
Timothy glances at Maple and then shakes his head. “It has walnuts in it, not a fan.”
“Really?” I ask. “Is it that way with all nuts or just walnuts?”
“A lot of nuts,” Timothy says.
“Hear that?” I elbow Hardy. “He probably doesn’t like your nuts.”
“But everyone likes my nuts.”
I look at Timothy. “Millions of people have had his nuts in their mouths.”
Timothy’s nose scrunches up in confusion, causing me to laugh. “Hopper Almonds. Those are his nuts.”
“Oh,” Timothy says with a slow nod. “I thought you were talking about his testicles.”
I nearly snort over the technical term. I would have just said balls.
“I don’t know him that well,” I say. “So not a nuts fan, huh, Timothy? Even candied nuts?”
Timothy shrugs while Hardy says, “Have you had the candied nuts down by the pier?”
I turn toward him, gripping his arm. “Oh my God, by the carousel?”
“Yes,” he says, his eyes widening.
