Page 9 of Erik's Salvation
“No, he could have put it on the other side.” Henry sipped his drink, then spat it back out. “What in the ever-loving hell is this?”
Hannah frowned. “It’s celery juice.”
Brigid tasted hers and cringed. “It tastes like feet.”
“It’s worse than feet,” Henry said, shaking his head like he was trying to get rid of the very memory of it. “It’s like the juicy sweat that comes out of feet.”
Brigid pulled a face. “Ew.”
“You’re so dramatic.” Hannah lifted her glass and took a sip. Oh, shit…itwaslike feet juice. “Maybe it’s an acquired taste. Some people drink this every morning.”
“What people?” Henry asked, eyeing the cup like it held Satan’s poison.
Brigid tilted her head. “Why are we drinking this again?”
Hannah tried another sip. If possible, it got worse. “I’m trying to be healthier.”
“Because of your diabetes?” Brigid asked.
“No. Celery has literally no carbs in it, so it would do nothing for my blood sugar.” Another sip. Yep, still awful. “I’m just trying to be healthier overall.”
“This is not the way to do it.” Henry tipped his juice down the sink.
“Hey—”
“We’ll finish watching this sexy-as-sin man sculpt his body,” he said, not caring about her protest. “Then we’ll go to Black Bean and get you real nourishment for this little endeavor of yours.”
“We can at least finish the juice. It’s not that—” Brigid took another sip, and this time, her body did an every-limb shudder. “Itisthat bad. We need Norman and Rita.”
Nothing at their coffee shop tasted like this. They made the best pastries and coffee in Washington…according to Hannah, anyway. They’d even started stocking lavender syrup so she could have her favorite lavender oat milk lattes.
“Fine,” Hannah grumbled. “But don’t let me order anything that’s going to spike my blood sugar.”
Henry nodded. “No cherry strudel, got it.”
“Oh, and no sitting next to Mr. Tallon from the grocery store,” Brigid added, pouring her juice down the drain next. “I’m not emotionally equipped to listen to his loud chewing.”
“Sigh, sexy neighbor’s going inside.” Henry tilted his head and squinted. “Hey…are there cameras on his house?”
“Yep,” Hannah said, swirling the green juice and trying to get up the courage to finish it. “The man has been adding so much security the last few days, you’d think he was building another Fort Knox.”
Excitement lit Brigid’s face. “Oh, he’s dangerous, too!”
“Yeah, well, he’d better not bring that danger to my doorstep.”
“Maybe you should bake him cookies,” Henry offered, finally turning away from the glass. “As a ‘hey, I’m your sexy single neighbor’ peace offering.”
Brigid scoffed. “That man doesn’t eat cookies. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him.”
“That man does notdeservemy cookies,” Hannah said quickly. “He didn’t even say thank you for watering his plants.”
“He was probably too taken by your cute ass,” Brigid said, turning away from the window. “You said you were wearing your denim shorts, right? You look hot in those.”
She shook her head. The only place he’d been looking was toward the gate, encouraging her to get the hell off his property.
She started taking apart the juicer. Stupid waste of time that endeavor was. “Do you know he drives a Corvette? He lives in a mansion and drives a Corvette.”
Way out of her league.
