"Bull doesn't know what he's talking about."

The pasty was just that--a fluffy twist of two strands of cinnamon bread covered in a glaze that had cooled beautifully and started to flake. JW expertly split the bread helix apart and leaned back in his chair again. His whole face lit up at the taste of it and seemed to shed literal years.

"Mmf, perfect. No surprise there." He opened an eye when Krem's phone chimed. "That can't be him. Doesn't he know patience is a virtue?"