Elle’s eyes refocused, then narrowed. “Umm, where do I start?”
“Chicken.”
She smirked. “Chicken is good. Now let’s get back to this professed love of romance books.”
Quirking an eyebrow at her, I turned to place the skillet on the stovetop. Dropping a bit of butter into it, I began to dredge the chicken in flour as the pan heated up. “Professed love? Nope, I said it outright. Romance books are some of my favorite things to read.”
I moved from preparing the chicken to check on the skillet and see if it was warm enough. Seeing it still needed more heat, I turned to see why Elle had gone radio silent. She stood there, brows drawn, watching. Damn, she was gorgeous. What was even more attractive was that she seemed to have no idea how she affected me.
Looking at Elle, I was hit with the idea of what could be. For a month we’d danced around this attraction. I thought it was just me, but lately I’d felt more certain that I wasn’t alone in that dance. And now I knew I wasn’t. Even with that knowledge, I had a strong desire to take this slow. Elle wasn’t someone to rush. I wanted to savor this, every step of this beginning.
But man alive, it was hard not to.
“Elle, you look like you have something to say.” I reached over to grab some chicken and placed it in the skillet, hearing the sizzle that told me I’d waited just long enough to get the perfect brown on each side, but it wasn’t so hot that everything would immediately be scorched. Looking over my shoulder, I prodded. “Come on, out with it.”
Elle shook her head slowly, then paused before moving forward to claim a stool at the island. Sliding onto it, she said, “I just hadn’t pegged you as a romance reader.”
I assembled the white wine, cream, and cut lemon to the side of the stove. Grabbing some fresh chives, I began to chop. “So are you someone who looks down on romance books as smut? I wouldn’t have pegged you for that, Elle.”
Elle began to stumble over her words, she was trying to reply so fast. “That’s not, I mean, I wasn’t trying to say, that.”
I was torn between wanting to laugh and the need to put her out of her misery. I decided to put her out of her misery. “Elle, I’m giving you shit.”
“Oh.” She focused on the counter, then took a deep breath and looked me in the eye. “I’m sorry. Sometimes I revert to a nervous high school kid and stumble over my words.”
I took a breath and debated my next move. I flipped the chicken over to brown on the other side, then moved from the stovetop to the island. Taking a breath, I slid my hand across to capture Elle’s. “Let me try that again, Elle, because I know for damn sure that my intention is not to make you nervous.”
“Okay.”
I almost forgot what I was going to say as I looked into her warm brown eyes. “So what I should have said, Elle, was that I love romance books. How do you feel about them?” I traced my thumb back and forth across her hand.
Not moving her gaze from mine, she bit her lower lip, then whispered, “I love them.”
“What do you love about them?”
“The HEA, I mean, the happily ever afters.”
“I work at a library, Elle. I know all about HEAs. Hell, Gabby and I run the romance book club filled with half the retired ladies in town. Once in a while we might get a guy to attend. So I get that I’m not the typical market for a romance book. Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate one.”
Elle began to move her thumb over my hand, grazing my palm. Damn if that didn’t make me want to vault the island to get to her. Just as I began to convince myself to round the island and kiss her senseless, I smelled the chicken.
“Crap.” Dropping her hand, I spun around and grabbed the spatula. I scooped up each piece and moved it to a plate I had to the side, checking the bottom to see if I’d burned it. Hmm, a little browner that I would’ve liked, but not bad.
“So what do you like about romance books?” Elle asked as she watched from her perch.
I poured the wine in the skillet, allowing it to come to a boil before it reduced. Keeping an eye on it, I turned slightly to Elle. “What’s not to like? As you mentioned, I’m a sucker for a HEA. But also, I think some of the best books out there right now are romance books. I mean, you can read smart characters like anything from Penny Reid, crazy and hilarious stories from Kristen Ashley, gorgeous historical from Courtney Milan, and that’s just a start. And of course there’s the queen, Nora Roberts, that Lou in town always jokes is my long-lost relative. I think that’s just because Lou would lose her shit if she could meet Queen Nora.”
“Damn.” Elle let out in a breath.
“What?” I poured cream into the skillet with the reduced wine and swirled it together before adding some lemon juice and chives. Then I placed the chicken back in the skillet and lowered the heat. My rice cooker was already on the counter, ready for dinner tonight. I rinsed the rice and got it started before turning back to Elle.
She’d been watching me but now stood with an uncertain look. I could sense the hesitancy in the way she leaned forward, then paused. As much as it killed me, I stood still. Elle had to be in charge here. She needed to decide to make a move.
Come on, Elle. You’ve got this.
11
Carpe Diem
