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“Right. Well, I’m not sure what the other options are.”

He stood in front of the mostly empty fridge, praying for a miracle. It was going to take one to scrounge together some kind of half-decent meal with what he had on hand.

“Where’s your food?” I questioned, glancing up at him.

He was still shirtless, and when I stepped in front of him, I could feel the warmth of his skin against my back as the scent of his body wash overwhelmed me.

“I … ah … um … I haven’t made it to the store,” he tripped over.

“Since when?”

“Last Tuesday?” he shrugged.

“But our picnic?”

“Um,” he scrubbed his hand down his face. “I may have ordered it ready to go and just picked it up on my way to get you.”

“Cody!”

“I know,” he confessed looking sheepish.

“What have you been eating then?” I questioned, eyeing off the tub of butter, half-eaten block of cheese, a few strips of bacon, and a bell pepper that had seen better days.

“Um …”

“Right. The diner.”

“Yeah,” he admitted, his cheeks turning pink.

“You like my food,” I stated, feeling my chest puff out.

“Your food is delicious,” he complimented as he stared at my lips.

I don’t know where my confidence came from. It wasn’t at all like me, but it just felt right, so I went with it. “Is it just the food you come for?”

I felt like I was holding my breath waiting for his answer. Like I was going to explode.

His eyes darkened and turned into slits. “You know it’s not,” his deep baritone graveled out barely a breath before he dipped his head and kissed me like I’d never been kissed.

Chapter nine

Cody

“Seriously, marry me,” I garbled around a mouthful.

I had no idea how she did it or where she’d found the ingredients to put in it, but this was one of the most delicious meals I’d ever eaten.

After I’d kissed Tillie breathless, her stomach rumbled, and I knew I needed to feed her. Reluctantly, I pulled back, her taste still on my lips.

She’d shooed me out of my own kitchen, declaring it a dream kitchen and insisting she needed to test it out. Given that my culinary skills peaked at heating up a frozen pizza or microwaving a prepackaged meal, I poured her another glass of wine and invited her to do her worst.

“Be careful, Cody. I might just say yes. Even if it’s only for your kitchen,” Tillie teased.

“Bring it on, sweetheart. Bring it on,” I challenged.

Outside the rain continued to batter us, and I found myself checking the weather app.

“What’s with the face?” Tillie asked, leaning against the counter, her feet crossed at the ankles while she sipped her wine.