Chapter Sixteen
Hugo and Wilma Buttsman glared at Sax all through dinner. The chicken offered a welcome distraction from the embarrassment of blowing up their grill and burning down her father’s favorite tree. I’ve gotta make this right.
Bryce is right. The chef was amazing. The sauce...a hint of heat and subtle oregano was like a taste explosion on her tongue.
I better stop thinking about explosions. She was certain she’d have nightmares filled with exploding trees for weeks to come.
She stole a glance at Hugo and Wilma and smiled weakly. One eyebrow rose up Hugo’s tanned forehead, while Wilma harrumphed over her seafood stew. Thankfully Hugo turned his attention back to his halibut. Man, if looks could kill I’d have been dead so many times.
Bryce was the life of the party.
