Before he could remember, the doorbell rang.
When he opened the front door, his heart did that damn fluttering thing again. Since it only happened when Dylan was around, Clay figured that it didn't mean he was dying, but it was disconcerting.
He cleared his throat. "You look pretty," he said.
Dylan smiled at him. "Thank you." Her eyes traveled over him. "You look handsome."
He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I'm the sexiest man alive."
"Uh, uh, uh," Dylan said, shaking her head as she stepped inside. "I accepted your compliment gracefully because you said you don't lie to me. I don't lie to you either, so accept mine."
Clay frowned at her. "Seriously?"
"Seriously."
"Okay. Thank you." He heaved out a sigh. "Good enough?"
"For now," she said, shrugging out of her short jacket.
Clay tried not to openly stare, but it was difficult. She wore jeans and there was something about the way they fit her that drew his eyes to her ass. Then, there was her blouse. The neckline was shaped into a wide vee and revealed an intriguing hint of cleavage. Well, from his view towering over her, it was more than a hint.
He realized she was standing there with her jacket in her hand and jolted out of his awkward staring.
"Here, let me take that," he said. He hung it off the coat tree on the other side of the door. And suddenly remembered what he'd forgotten.
"Come to the kitchen and I'll pour you a glass of wine," he said.
"Sounds good," she said. As they walked through the dining room to the kitchen, she inhaled. "And something smells good, too."
"Twice-baked potatoes, marinated lamb chops, and the apple crumble that's in the oven."
Her eyebrows rose. "You made all that?"
"Yep. Impressed?"
"I'll let you know after I eat," she replied.
He grinned. "Fair enough. Have a seat at the table and I'll get the wine."
Clay poured them each a glass of wine and brought the bottle over to the table. She took the glass he held out to her.
"Are you hungry?" he asked.
Dylan took a sip and nodded.
"I'll get the lamb chops on the grill then."
"I'll come with you."
"You'll need your jacket," Clay said. "It's cold."
She sat outside in the chilly night air as he grilled the lamb and cooked the broccolini on the side burner of the grill.
"I like your outdoor kitchen," she commented, walking around behind him to examine the countertop he'd installed himself. "It's the stuff HGTV dreams are made of."
He smirked. "I know. My sister keeps bugging me to put one in for her, but her husband doesn't want to spend the money. Though after this last stunt, I think he'll cave because he owes her."
"What stunt?"
