Ten minutes and only a bit of a groveling for forgiveness later, he was back out at one of the picnic tables with a pair of monster burgers, all the trimmings, and a mug of black coffee that had never been near an Army coffee urn. It must be in some manual somewhere that all Army coffee was required to be served well burnt or maybe the urns were simply all set to stun. Betsy used Honduran beans and a smooth Italian roast for MHA’s signature fare. Totally awesome. Another nice MHA bonus.
As for bonuses, Krista sat down across from him as he ate. Not at the same table so that he could play footsie with her, but instead leaning back against the next table over with her feet propped on the other bench of his table. It let him truly admire the woman.
Jeans, sneakers, a black t-shirt with a si
