By the way, I loved your sausage,” he said, standing swiftly. “I beg your pardon?” Fin’s mind went blank. “You made sausage last night for dinner, and it was perfection. Just like you.” The man gently wiped his thumb across his lower lip, a movement that Fin wasn’t sure why, but drew his attention immediately. “Just a thought for you, though, have you ever slapped a couple buns over the meat? Pile some good sauce in there and I think you’d have a messy but fulfilling time.” Fin’s jaw dropped for what felt like the hundredth time that day. His face was frozen between a smile of amusement and
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