He appraised her at arm’s length. “You’re hungry?”
“You would think two plates of chicken Alfredo would be enough, but I must be growing.”
Beckett teased, “But, you’re nineteen today.”
“I’m also Waterfolk, we have longer growth cycles.”
“Would you like more dinner, or rather should I say, second dinner?”
“I believe that there was my dessert stomach signaling for a tad of something.”
“I’m not big on dessert, but let me rustle something up.” Beckett disappeared into the kitchen. He called out, “Do you like chocolate?”
Luna called back, “Who doesn’t like chocolate?” She dropped to the bedding, wrapping the quilt around her legs.
He reappeared saying, “Me, that’s who,” carrying a chocolate bar and sitting down in the bedding, facing her, knee to knee. He presented it with a flourish.
Luna tore open the paper and broke off a segment. “Yum, milk, my favorite.”
