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I blinked. “You made enough for two?”
“It’s a rule of mine, never invite a woman to your house without feeding her.” He flashed a smile, trying to shock me or offend me, I wasn’t sure.
But I was familiar with this particular spiel. “Bonus points if you cooked the meal, or if she thinks you did.” He froze when I repeated his own words back to him.
“Not sure if I should be impressed or terrified.”
“Terrified. Always choose terrified,” I told him with a laugh.
“Good to know.” Oliver nodded for me to follow him and I did. “I brought them down here since the light is better,” he said nervously, and I realized he was trying to make me feel comfortable.
It was progress. “Perfect. Which shoes were you thinking?” He had an impressive shoe collection for a man, but it was just what I had expected of a professional bachelor.
“The brown and the black.” He watched me closely and I couldn’t hide my feelings. “You’re impressed, go on, admit it.”
I nodded. “A little. You still have too many sneakers.”
He shrugged. “I’ll take it. And no one has ever complained about my sneaker collection before.”
“Not to your face,” I told him as I followed him back into the kitchen. “Probably not a lot of call-backs, either.” He tossed a frown at me over his shoulder and I couldn’t help the laugh that it yanked from me. “I know, I know. You choose women who know the score.”
Oliver shook his head, blond hair flopping wildly. “Mocking me after I planned to share this delicious jambalaya with you.”
“It smells incredible,” I told him honestly and took a seat at the table. “When do you cook for your women?”
“Seriously?” I nodded. “Almost never. One time, a flash flood came through and I had to make breakfast and lunch for a woman, but in general, it gives the wrong impression.”
That he might be willing to have more meals together. In the future. “Then I guess I should feel honored.”
“Totally honored,” he confirmed as he brought two steaming bowls to the table. “I’m not too shabby a cook.”
I dug into the bowl with more energy than I normally would, but this wasn’t a date so there was no need to be self-conscious. “Mmm, it’s better than not too shabby.” It was damn good.
“Yeah? From you, that’s high praise.”
“You deserve it,” I told him around another bite. “We should update your profile skills—more than a competent cook. Women will love that.” I ignored the kick in my gut at those words, chalking it up to the spice level in the jambalaya.
Oliver put his finger to his lips in a hush motion. “Then we have to keep it our little secret or I’ll have no rest from the husband hunters.”
The temptation to do just that was so strong in that moment, with our eyes and smiles connected in a visceral way, that I knew I had to update it as soon as possible. “Can’t have that, can we?”
“No, Eva, we can’t.”
The way my name rolled off his tongue and the heat in his eyes terrified me. So, I ate the jambalaya far too fast to be polite and made a hasty exit before one of us did something stupid.
The first thing I did back at the office was to update Oliver’s dating profile.Oliver“You should consider yourself lucky if a woman chooses to make you the man in her life.” An old woman with bluish hair stopped right in front me on the street, wagging a wrinkled pink-tipped finger in my face like I stomped all over her rose bushes.
“Who ever heard of a man who won’t commit?” she snorted. “Women ain’t your thing, is that it? Because we’re a pretty open-minded sort around here. There’s Dottie’s son,” she said, then—realizing Dottie, whoever she was, might not want the whole town knowing her son’s personal business—snapped her lips shut. “Well, it’s all right if you are.”
“I’m not, but thank you for saying so.” It was hard to take offense to all the meddling when it was all so damn well-meaning.
The woman smiled at me, a knowing look in her eyes. “So, this is all about the woman, Eva? She is quite the looker, and if I had those curves, hell, I would’ve caused a wreck or two.” Realizing she wasn’t alone, the woman straightened. “She’s not the type to screw with. Crap or get off the pot, young man.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said with a laugh. Living in a small town was a unique experience—and it was also the only place I’d ever let an old woman put me in my place.
“It’s always the handsome ones you have to worry about,” she grumbled and walked away, our conversation apparently over.
I shook my head and continued on my way to the Time For Love offices. I had less than ten minutes to spare, but I’d arranged it so I’d show up five minutes early, just to throw Eva off-kilter. It was my new favorite pastime, which I ought to spend some time thinking about, but I was a man and I’d deal with it when I needed to. Eventually.
