My mouth, luckily currently free of fries, goes slack. I mean, I know he’s attracted to me, but unless a girl is in a Hardee’s commercial, there’s really not a way to go about eating fries sexy.

“You’re right.”

He glances up, raising an eyebrow in question.

“You’re weird.”

His cheeks get red, a perfect color to match his devilish grin.

Then, slowly, with deliberation, I pick up a fry and hold his gaze as I take a bite.

22

Ben: Official Post-Date Survey. Did you: A) Have a fantastic time with your charming date, B) Have an amazing evening with the funniest man you know, or C) Have a glorious night with a sexy weirdo?

Holly: D) All of the above.

HOLLY

“Okay, I admit it. Having two ovens does make this a little bit easier.”

“A little bit?” Ben doesn’t even try to hide his smirk, so I pinch his side as I pass by.

“Okay. A lot a bit.”

We’re working together in Ben’s townhouse, which I’m visiting for the first time. While nowhere near as large and upscale as his parents’ place, this house still sits in an entirely different class than my apartment. Apparently, Sammy’s parents own the townhouse and charge Ben and Jasper a pittance of rent.

The place oozes charm with its redbrick exterior and dark wooden floor. Black marble counters hold a spread of stainless steel appliances. It wasn’t until I opened the fridge and saw a whole shelf devoted to beer that I accepted three college guys lived here.

Not that Ben gets to drink any of it.

When he invited me to do my weekly food prep at his place, I grabbed at the chance to be nosy. Even though I accepted because I wanted to see where he lived, I’m reaping some additional benefits. My Sunday cooking normally takes up an entire afternoon, but with Ben and his beautiful kitchen helping, we’re looking at just about two hours of work.

So, yeah, I like the kitchen.

“Why would Sammy’s parents let you live here for next to nothing? They could make a killing on this place by actually charging rent.”

Ben shrugs. “I think they plan on selling the house when we move out. And it wasn’t this nice when they bought it. The last owner let it go to sh—” Ben stops talking abruptly and clears his throat. “Let it go to crap.”

I notice his stumble and correction, and my heart lightens. To thank him, I lean over to press a kiss on his shoulder and then rub my nose against the soft flannel shirt he’s wearing.

In return, he kisses me on the forehead before continuing, “So, I think they got it at a decent price and then spent some money to fix it up. They don’t need the cash from selling it though. I think they just like having a project. The Ches are both pretty handy. They did a lot of the work themselves. Along with Sammy.” Ben picks up his cutting board and walks over to the stovetop to dump all the diced vegetables into a waiting pot. The hot olive oil already in the pan sizzles at the contact. After quickly washing his hands, Ben grabs a wooden spoon to stir the contents.