Chapter Five
Erik kept a light grip on the yoke as the MX 60 followed the general flow of traffic. “The reviews of the place are great. They say they have some of the best beignets in the metroplex. The owners are directly descended from a baking family who lived in New Orleans up until about forty years ago. It’s worth checking out, even if it’s farther than our normal place.”
“I think you love beignets more than is reasonably healthy,” Emma suggested. “More even than that stupid gun of yours.”
Erik snickered. “You have no sense of taste. I don’t think I’m going to listen to anyone who can’t taste food.”
“It just means I’m less distracted by pointless sensory data.” Emma huffed.
“Sounds like you’re jealous,” Erik retorted.
Emma sighed. “Spoken like a true human. I am the pinnacle of
