mouth has set to watering without her permission. She picks up her fork, planning to take just a few bites and box up the rest so she can skedaddle on her way and never come to this restaurant again.

Mary Beth has settled back down on to her ample elbows, staring at Bennett’s plate but seemingly somewhere else mentally. Bennett dutifully takes her first bite and almost swoons. Whoever that ‘Murph’ kid in the back is, he may have god-awful taste in hairstyles and maybe could use a lesson in proper hygiene, but he can cook like an angel. Bennett forgets all about the fact that Mary Beth is in her personal space and begins shoveling up the first good food she’s had since leaving home several days ago.

“You know, Bennett,” Mary Beth says, shredding Bennett’...

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