And smelled pancakes. Heard bacon frying. That was odd. Hank was . . . cooking?

Confused, she headed into the kitchen and saw her small dining table had been taken over. One of her fat, decorative pillar candles had been lit and set in the center of the table, and Libby was at the far end, carefully folding Becca’s best napkins. Hank’s hat hung on a wall peg by the door as if it belonged there. A huge stack of pancakes was on the table, along with condiments and plates, and she looked over in surprise at Hank, who stood in the kitchen over the stove. He looked confident and sexy and . . . amazing.

“You’re . . . cooking?”

Hank gave her a half smile. “I know how to cook. It’s pretty limited, but I do know how. Hope you don’t mind breakfast for dinner.”

“I’m helping!” Libby waved one of the napkins at her.

“I see that,” Becca murmured, moving to take the napkins from her. “And what a wonderful job you’ve done. Why don’t we wash our hands while your daddy finishes?”

She bustled Libby upstairs to the bathroom, doing her best not to stare at Hank as he expertly flipped bacon in the pan, his stance casual and determined. He hadn’t even made a mess of her kitchen, not really. Greg had cooked for her once or twice, but the ensuing disaster in the kitchen had been so dreadful that it had ended up being less exciting and more of a mess for her to clean up. When she came back down with Libby, Hank was near the table and pulled chairs out for both of them.

And she felt like she could smile for the first time that day.

“I’m sorry if I was a little short with you earlier,” Becca told him as she sat down. The setup looked amazing. There was buttered toast, fresh bacon, and so many pancakes that she couldn’t possibly eat all of them. He’d done this for her. She didn’t even care that he was using an expensive candle designed to be used for show only. It didn’t matter. He’d made her dinner.

Hank pushed in her chair and murmured in her ear. “I said I wasn’t good at relationships. I’m good at pancakes.”

She chuckled at that. Maybe they both weren’t good at this sort of thing. Hank was used to being on his own, and Becca was practically planning their lives together after one date. Perhaps they both needed to meet somewhere in the middle.