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She focused on his ass and snapped a shot. “Bottom drawer.” She took a few more pictures, just in case the first one was blurry.
“Wow, look at all this produce. You must eat really well.”
“I try.” She took a step to the side and switched to live picture mode so she could make a GIF of his abs rippling.
He straightened and shut the fridge, his arms full of ingredients. “What are you doing?”
“Taking a picture of you.”
“What for?”
She put her phone down and went to kiss him. “What do you think it’s for?”
He shook his head, smiling as he carried his spoils to the counter. “I don’t want to know.”
“What sorts of things can you cook?” she asked as he laid the ingredients for his omelets on the counter. Besides chicken and eggs, there was cream cheese, spinach, olives, and green onions. This was going to be some omelet.
He pulled a knife out of the block and started chopping onions. “Nothing fancy. I eat a lot of chicken and a lot of beans and rice. Different combinations of vegetables, depending on what’s on sale.”
“And omelets.”
He looked over at her and smiled. “And omelets, almost every morning.”
No wonder he looked so good. He ate like a bodybuilder. Of course, so did Penny, pretty much, and she looked like a teddy bear with boobs. It helped to be genetically gifted. Which Caleb definitely was. So gifted.
She sat at the breakfast bar to watch him cook. She’d never had a man cook in her kitchen before, much less one as attractive as Caleb. It was a bit like seeing Bigfoot casually strolling through the housewares department at Walmart.
“Do you have an omelet pan?”
“Cabinet to your left.”
He set the pan on the stove to heat while he broke two eggs into a bowl and added a splash of water. When the pan was hot, he added a thin sliver of butter, stirred the eggs, and poured them into the pan. Penny watched him nudge the eggs around with practiced ease. He really did know what he was doing. She felt like she’d found Willy Wonka’s Golden Ticket, only instead of a Golden Ticket it was something even more rare: a man who was good in the kitchen.
When he’d layered the other ingredients and the eggs were perfectly cooked on the bottom, he folded them over and slid a picture-perfect omelet onto a plate. Penny couldn’t have done better herself.
“Go ahead and eat,” he said, handing it to her. “Don’t let it get cold while I make mine.”
She got out two forks and two paper napkins and carried them to the small dining table, choosing the seat with a view of the kitchen—and Caleb’s perfect ass.
The omelet was so pretty it almost seemed a shame to cut into it. Not enough of a shame to stop her though. Not when it smelled this heavenly and she was so hungry she was practically drooling. She lifted a bite to her lips and closed her eyes in ecstasy. It tasted every bit as good as it looked—fluffy and flavorful and fantastic.
“Does it taste okay?” Caleb asked without turning around.
“Are you kidding? This is incredible. You should consider a career as an omelet chef.”
“And give up barista-ing? Never.”
He slid his omelet onto a plate, turned off the stove, and took the seat across from her at the table. “I guess you must have liked it okay,” he said, nodding at her half-empty plate.
She grinned at him. “It’s the second best thing I’ve had in my mouth today.”
He choked on the bite of omelet he’d just taken, and she got up and patted him on the back on her way to the kitchen. “Let me get you some water for that cough.”
“You’re full of surprises.”
She set out two glasses and opened the fridge. “Why? Because I made a dirty joke?”
“Yeah. I mean, you always seemed so…”
