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When we make it to the kitchen, my every thought is confirmed. It’s beautiful. Tall, almost unbearably beautiful cabinets with big, chunky pulls and marble countertops, and the most intricately patterned simple subway tile backsplash I’ve ever seen. The appliances are all high-end, commercial-grade, and under-cabinet lighting makes me feel like I’m aboard the fanciest of spaceships.
I take a seat at a high-backed black velvet stool on this side of the massive island as Jake moves around to the other side, opens the fridge, and takes out a pitcher of lemonade.
Chloe grabs a couple glasses from the cabinet and sets them down in front of him without having to be asked. Instead, she directs a question to me. “Do you want a cookie, Holley? I baked them earlier.”
I find myself nodding before I can even pretend to be polite. A nice glass of homemade lemonade and fresh-baked cookies sound like exactly what I need after the day I’ve had.
She grabs it from the decorative cake plate in the corner, gets a tiny plate from the cupboard, and sets it down in front of me. I eye it lovingly, but just when I get it to my mouth to make sweet love to it, Jake interrupts our dalliance.
“So, what is it that made you want to write a column about this? What exactly drew you to Bachelor Anonymous?”
Sadly, almost dejectedly, I set my cookie back down on the plate in front of me. A tear threatens to leave my eye, but I hold it back.
Time to be professional.
“Ah, well. It’s a really interesting concept, you know? Letting the public decide on the man they’d like to see chase true love.”
Jake settles his hips into the counter behind him and crosses his muscular arms over his chest as I continue.
“And then to take those self-described qualities and use them to try to match him—well, you—with the best of the best as far as matches go…” I trail off, and a small smile curves the corner of his lips.
“You absolutely hate this contest, don’t you?”
“No!” I protest.
“Holley,” he says with a laugh. “You can barely even stomach the description.”
“No, no,” I counter again. “It’s great. It’s honestly…so great.”
“Holley,” he challenges again, and I can’t help it. I sigh.
“My editor assigned it to me. I didn’t have a choice.”
“You hate it.”
I roll my eyes. “I probably wouldn’t have chosen it.”
He chuckles. “Oh my God, you loathe it so much.”
I throw up my hands, and he dissolves into real peals of laughter.
“I know, I know!” I shout. “I’ve ruined the sanctity of the contest. If you’re second-guessing it now—”
“Are you kidding?” Jake interrupts. “It’s seeming like a good idea for the first time today.”
“Wh-what?” I’m almost unable to form the simple word. I’m so confused.
“I was dreading working with someone who thought this was something…” He shakes his head as he gathers his thoughts. “It’s just a relief to know that you have skepticism. I think we’ll get along so much better than if you’d felt a different way. That’s all.”
“Good,” I say. “I think?”
He chuckles again. “It’s good.”
Finally, unable to stop myself, I pick up my cookie and take a bite. It’s freaking delicious. “Oh my heavens, Chloe,” I nearly shout. “You made these?”
She nods, a small amount of crimson tingeing her cheeks. “Um, yeah.”
“They’re so dang good. Where did you learn to make these? I need the recipe.”
She shakes her head. “I…well, I taught myself. And the recipe is mine. I just, kind of, made it up.”
“Holy crap, are you serious?” She nods.
“See,” Jake interjects. “I told you they were good.”
She shrugs. “You eat anything. You’re not a good judge.”
She turns to me and continues. “Seriously. He’s like a garbage disposal.”
I turn to look at him, surveying his body closely. No candor, no subtlety—I straight-up devour his big, fit body with my eyes. Tanned, veiny, muscled arms and a trim, in no way cushiony waist, make his T-shirt look like it’s been royally awarded the privilege to sit atop his skin. His thighs look like weapons—I know for a fact after seeing him in a wet suit this morning.
The disparity is almost too much to handle. How is it possible this man eats anything and everything he wants and still looks like that?
For shame, Holley! Stop ogling him like he’s the human version of that cookie!
Jake clears his throat, and I do a slow blink.
“That’s…interesting,” I say, unable to come up with anything else. Chloe turns away, almost definitely in an attempt to conceal her smile.
Dangerously close to letting this meeting get completely out of control, I reach into my bag at my side and pull out the folder full of paperwork.
Business, Holley. Get back to the safety of business.
Jake looks over at the folder in front of me and turns to Chloe. “Why don’t you—”
