10. Chicken Tenders #2
I already knew what their tenders tasted like. They were fine, but they had nothing to do with Chunky's. This wasn't going to be the place. Still, I looked through the options.
"They don't have garlic parmesan and buffalo ranch here." I ran my finger down the list. "But their tenders look decent. Why don't we try the best seller with some blue cheese dip and this spicy one?"
Knox looked at the menu. "Okay," he said, but his face said something else entirely.
I laughed. "What's wrong?"
"I'm not very good at handling spice."
"You fight fires for a living and a spicy chicken tender is where you draw the line?"
The look he gave me made me laugh out loud.
Across the room, Liz slid off her stool. Jen followed. They headed for the door, and Liz looked over her shoulder at me on the way out. She didn't wave. She just looked, and then she was gone.
That was going back to the floor.
I shrugged it off. The waitress came back, and I ordered for us. The best seller with blue cheese dip, the spicy tenders, a burger for Knox because I wasn't going to let the man starve, and the banana split for after.
While we waited, I studied him across the table.
I'd been trying to figure Knox Sullivan out since the hospital.
He'd shown up every day, sat with me, asked questions about how I was feeling, and never once offered anything about himself in return.
When I got out, he kept texting. Always a check-in, always about me.
I still didn't know his middle name or where he grew up or what he did on his days off.
The car shopping had shown me something else — a man who crawled under a stranger's Corolla on hot asphalt because he didn't want me making a bad decision, and then shrugged when I thanked him like he'd done nothing worth mentioning.
He'd fixed my window at Barb's and never made it about himself.
And now he'd just given me his brother's name across a diner table, and I could tell from how he'd looked at that booth that it cost him more than he was letting on.
Three signs fit. Leo, because he was brave and protective and walked into fire for a living.
Capricorn, because he was disciplined and methodical and built things without needing anyone to notice.
Scorpio, because he watched everything, gave nothing away, and chose exactly what to share and when to share it.
All three could be him. I couldn't tell which one was right.
I rested my chin on my hand. "When's your birthday?"
Knox's glass stopped halfway to his mouth.
"Wait." I held up a hand. "Don't tell me. I want to guess."
He set his glass down. "Okay? Give it a shot."
"I've got three guesses. If I narrow it down to the exact date, you eat the whole spicy tender."
Knox looked at me. "And if you're wrong?"
"You pick."
He thought about it for exactly two seconds. "Deal."
"I think your birthday is somewhere between July twenty-third and August twenty-second, December twenty-second and January nineteenth, or October twenty-third and November twenty-first."
"One of those is right," he said.
The waitress came back with our food. I grabbed two forks from the utensil canister on the side and handed one to Knox. His fingers grazed mine when he took it. I don't think he noticed. I did.
"How did you guess that?" he asked.
"I was trying to figure out if you were a Leo, a Capricorn, or a Scorpio."
He stared at me. "Is that horoscope stuff actually real?"
"I was able to guess the range, wasn't I?"
I pushed the spicy tenders in front of him.
He looked at the plate, then at me. "You didn't guess the exact date."
"One of three isn't bad."
"The deal was the exact date." He leaned back. "I was waiting for you to actually narrow it down."
I pulled the plate back toward me and pouted. "Fine." I picked up my fork. "Then I'm changing my answer. It's definitely between October twenty-third and November twenty-first."
Knox looked at the spicy tenders. He poked one with his fork, then sighed. "Alright. You got the range right. I'll compromise." He cut off a small piece. "One bite. Not the whole thing."
I laughed. "Okay."
He put it in his mouth.
The coughing started immediately. He grabbed his water and drank the entire glass without stopping.
"Oh my God." I covered my mouth. "I didn't think it was that bad."
"It is that bad," he said, his voice rough.
"Okay, don't have any more." I pulled the plate back toward me. "Thank you for humoring me, Knox."
We ate and talked about nothing in particular.
One topic drifted into the next without either of us steering it.
The banana split came and it was everything he'd described.
Enormous. Too much whipped cream. Three scoops that no two people were ever going to finish.
He took the chocolate end. I took the strawberry. We gave up on the vanilla together.
"Thank you for today. I called my brother the other day about celebrating his birthday.
He said he couldn't because he just started a new job and didn't want to take time off.
" I smiled, but it didn't quite hold. "I've been a little sad about it.
So you taking a bite of that tender even though you clearly can't handle spice really made me laugh. I needed that."
Knox looked at me across the table like he was deciding something.
"October twenty-eighth," he said.
"What?"
"My birthday. October twenty-eighth." He shrugged. "I don't usually tell people when it is because I don't celebrate it anyway."
"Why not?"
"It's just a regular day to me."
That made me sad. I didn't say so, but it sat in my chest.
"I know yours," he said.
"Do you?"
"September eighth. It was on the paperwork at Ray's."
"Right."
Knox looked at me across the table. He just smiled, and it reached his eyes, and he looked like a man who was exactly where he wanted to be.
"So there's this thing the station does," he said after a moment. "Every year, we play LVMPD in a charity game. Softball. The guys call it the Badges." He leaned back. "Andy's playing on the LVMPD side this year, so it's going to be personal."
"When is it?"
"Two weeks. Saturday. The game's at the park in the afternoon, and there's a cookout at the station after." He looked at me. "You should come."
"Are you inviting me to watch you play softball?"
"I'm inviting you to watch us beat LVMPD at softball."
I laughed. "I'll be there."
On our way out, Knox put his hand on the small of my back. He walked me to the Corolla first.
"I had a great time," he said.
"I did too."
We stood there. The parking lot was quiet. The afternoon sun was hitting the side of his face, and he was looking at me the way he'd looked at me across the table, except closer now. I could see the flecks in his eyes. I could feel the warmth from where his hand had just been.
For a second, I thought he was going to kiss me.
Then he stepped back.
"Text me when you get home," he said.
"I will."