He nodded at her, and his eyes roamed the kitchen, taking in every detail. The dishes she hadn’t yet cleaned, and the pans waiting for their filling.
Another nod, and then he headed to the fridge to survey the options.
Leaving her free to admire his physique and his focused intensity.
She was pathetic. The man hadn’t shown interest in her. Sharing a kitchen was potentially awkward. She didn’t need to make things worse by acting on her attraction. Enjoying the view would have to be enough.
The song changed to “Nobody Here But Us Chickens,” a song that never failed to make her smile. The jazzy big-band sound always had her feet dancing. She’d turn the music off after it was done. It was all about compromise.
“What do you think about getting some chickens?”
Mara nearly dropped the pot of sea-salt caramel she was blending into the cheesecake mixture. “Chickens?”
Seth closed the fridge and brought an armful of vegetables to the prep sink. He nodded. “Fresh eggs would be a bonus.”
She nodded. “They would, but I don’t know anything about live chickens. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen one.”
Seth’s mouth quirked in a smirk. It shouldn’t be sexy, but it was. “Are you afraid of them?”
“No. Well, I doubt it. I’ve survived New York pigeons. How bad can chickens be?”
That earned her a full-on laugh. “I’ve never raised them, but I don’t think they require much care.”
“They’re probably something like Ford and Jolie’s ducks. They’d need a coop.”
Seth nodded as he washed veggies. “And to be fed. The eggs would need to be collected.”
“I’m a city girl, but I’m willing to look into it as long as we’re sharing the load there.”
“Good. Ford’ll build us a coop if we decide, but we need to see if it’s something we both want to add to our schedules.”
“Okay, after I get these in the oven and clean up, I’ll pull up some info on my phone.”
Another nod.
They worked together without talking as she put some of her tools in the dishwasher and filled a sink for the rest.
By the time she’d put everything away and she’d scoured the counter and island, she grabbed her phone and realized the music continued to play.
Seth hadn’t complained, but she still felt guilty. She paused the playlist and sat on a stool at the island.
Raising chickens. Something she’d have never thought she’d be typing in her browser.
A quick scan showed she needed to narrow her search. Not only by climate, but also by the type of chickens. “How much do you know about chicken breeds?”
His chopping hands stilled, and he looked up. “Not a damn thing.”
She grinned. “Yeah, I don’t have a clue either.”
A quick search for the best chickens for baking and cooking had her adding the word eggs to the search. Then she simplified to the best chicken eggs.
Much better. While she wasn’t a vegetarian and not particularly squeamish, she didn’t want to know which chickens were best for cooking. Nope. She preferred to think of her meat as coming from the grocery store.
The answers made her grin. “Wyandottes, Orpingtons, Rhode Island Reds, Brahmas, ISA Browns, Leghorns, and Australorps.”
Seth looked up. “What?”
“This article says the best chicken eggs come from those breeds.”
