Page 101 of Surge

“No idea. There is some of that food to eat, inside.” He grabbed the pocket of her burgundy jacket and gently tugged toward the door.

She laughed, and they walked in and joined the line. Brisket, ribs, pulled pork, chicken quarters. She read the menu but couldn’t decide. She threw her hands in the air. “Just order for me.”

“So you actually trust me, huh?”

She laughed. “So much I’ll let myself be hoisted off a bullet train at full speed.”

He groaned and shook his head, moving along in line. “Don’t remind me.”

A woman in a Fox’s Barbecue apron approached, bearing a tray with mini plastic cups. “This is the famous Choca Cantika Barbecue Sauce that we’re featuring today. Would you like to try it?” She leaned toward them, talking in a fake whisper. “Don’t tell Mrs. Fox. I tried one. This sauce is so good. You’re going to like it.”

She and Garrett wouldn’t have laughed if they hadn’t made eye contact.

“I do,” Garrett said, and grabbed a mini cup.

The lady hesitantly held the tray toward her.

Delaney bit her lip to stop the laugh and smiled as she took one. “Of course. Thanks.” She tipped the barbecue sauce into her mouth. Her knees dipped. “Oh! Oh! That is so good,” she groaned in pleasure. “I knew it would be good, but notthisgood. It’s so . . . sweet and deep.”

“Told you so,” the lady said holding out a trash bag.

Delaney and Garrett tossed their mini cups into the bag.

They reached the front, where the cashier greeted them. “Hey, Mr. Walker. I suppose you want the usual pulled pork sandwich basket?”

“Two please, Charley. With fries and . . .” He narrowed his eyes in thought. “Dr. Pepper.”

Delaney dug in her purse for her wallet, but Garrett was already paying for it. Like he’d paid for all their coffee.

He leaned up against the counter as they waited for their order. “How was Surge’s last scent work contract with the Houston Police Department?”

“He found a very big drug stash.”

The employee brought the two baskets on a tray, which Garrett retrieved and headed to the condiment trough. There he piled pickles and onions on his sandwich.

Delaney frowned. “Why do you cover up the awesome smoky meat with all that stuff?”

With a wink, he grinned. “Pickles and onions make the sandwich.” He handed her one of the bowls of banana pudding. “And this makes the meal.”

She stared at the banana pudding. “Deal.” When they finally found the only empty, clean table, she sat down and snatched the Choca Cantika sauce from the sauce basket on the table and pointed it at him. “This. Sauce is what makes the sandwich.”

He pulled out the sriracha smoke sauce and squeezed it onto his pulled pork.

“Let me guess. You always eat the same thing here.”

“When it’s good, it’s good.” He took a bite. Practically half the sandwich.

“Walker.” Heath approached, his own basket laden with items from the trough and Crew trailing him with his own pile of barbecue. “Delaney. Mind if we join y’all?”

What was ABA doing here?

Crew took the seat next to Garrett. “Hey, Delaney. Garrett.” He indicated the Choca Cantika she was holding. “Done with that?”

“Sure,” she said with a laugh.

He took it and squeezed some onto his brisket. “Been wanting to try this.”

Heath chewed, then took a gulp of water. Jutted his jaw at Garrett. “You ready to start tactical training with our handlers?”

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