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Needing help from his mother to score a date was as low as he’d ever gone. Frankly, it was embarrassing and humbling...and all part of the new territory he was in with Sera.
When Sera entered the treatment room, her expression was all business. Still, she looked fresh and perky and delicious. He now knew she responded to him as no other woman ever had. She was attuned to him on a level he’d never experienced before. So it made it impossible to even pay lip service to her ridiculous plan to forget that Saturday night ever happened.
“Nice move leaving my car keys with the security desk in my building,” he observed.
She swept her hair off her shoulder. “Thank you again for the loan of a set of wheels. My car is out of the shop.”
“Congratulations. But I thought I’d at least find some memento of your stay.” He shrugged. “You know, a forgotten lip balm or a pair of sunglasses. Or at least your lingering scent on the upholstery.”
“I wasn’t able to do a complete makeover in a few days,” she deadpanned right back. “Your imprint was hard to eradicate.”
He loved her sass. “But you tried?”
“I’m sure you’d like to be considered unforgettable.”
“I’ll settle for immortality,” he teased.
She scrolled on the tablet she’d brought to their session this time instead of a clipboard with paperwork.
He eyed her. “I’ve got a request.”
She looked up. “I give you points for being direct.”
Jordan laughed as he leaned against the treatment table. If Sera wanted to pretend their close encounter hadn’t happened or was an anomaly, then he was willing to play any of the li
mited cards he had left. “I’d like you to appear on my mother’s cooking show.”
Sera’s eyes widened. “What? You can’t be serious.”
He shrugged. “Consider it a thank-you for the use of my car.”
“Sneaky.” She took a deep breath. “Anyway, Marisa may have appeared on the program once, but it’s not for me. I’ve caught your mother’s show a few times on television, and I consider it a spectator sport.”
“My mother’s station is under new management. Mom is worried about being canceled and wants to make a good impression. And I’m trying to help her out by coming up with some ideas.”
“Why doesn’t she just switch to online? She can go viral.” Nevertheless Sera contemplated him thoughtfully. “Still, it’s nice of you to try to help her.”
“I was an Eagle Scout. Good deeds are my forte.”
“Are you sure you want to involve your mother? Who knows what I might tell her?”
He smiled lazily. “That’s the point. You’ll be on the show, so I’ll be on my best behavior...because you’ll be doing me a kindness.”
“You’ve thought of everything,” she remarked drily.
“And it’ll be a good show,” he pressed. “Just what my mother needs right now.”
“How do you know I’d be appropriate? I might burn the calzones.”
“C’mon, you bring homemade dishes to the office, and your coworkers praise your cooking.” He’d found a bargaining chip in her baked ziti.
“Remind me to tell them not to be so loose-lipped,” Sera grumbled, nevertheless looking flattered. “No good deed goes unpunished.”
Jordan snapped his fingers as an idea hit. “You might teach me how to cook. There’s no format yet, but the audience would eat up a show about a pro hockey player bumbling his way through the kitchen.”
“Well, somehow I doubt any acting would be involved on your part. But anyway, your mother can teach you how to cook on the show.” Sera frowned. “In fact, why hasn’t she?”
“When the equivalent of Julia Child is at home, why would she let anyone else mess around in the kitchen?” He shrugged. “Besides, I was always at hockey practice. I only made my own breakfast when I slept in. Everyone was doing what they did best. Mom in the kitchen, me on ice.”
