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Andi reached out and gave her friend’s hand a squeeze. “Thanks, girl. But I was definitely not a badass last night. I had a hot, sweet man who knows how to cook in my kitchen, and I sent him off with a kiss on the cheek and a don’t-let-the-door-hit-you-on-the-way-out goodbye.” She took a long sip from her margarita—one that wasn’t nearly as good as Hill’s had been last night. “I wish I could rewrite that chapter for sure.”
Eliza lifted a brow. “So do it.”
“What?”
Eliza slid the pages Andi had given her across the table. “You’re the author. Delete last night’s chapter and start over. What would Book Andi do?”
“Is that like WWJD—what would Jesus do?” she asked. “WWBAD? Ha, it spells ‘bad’.”
“I definitely don’t think Book Andi would do what Jesus would do in this situation,” Eliza said with a knowing look.
Andi inhaled a deep, fortifying breath and grinned.WWBAD?She pulled a pen from her purse and scrawled something on the page.
When she held it up for Eliza to read, Eliza picked up her mojito and clinked it with Andi’s margarita glass. “I can’t wait to read this book.”
“Me too. Hope it doesn’t totally suck.”
“I hope there are dirty parts.”
Andi laughed. “Same, girl. Same.”
***
Hill pulled into his driveway after a grocery run and was surprised to see Andi sitting on their shared porch, reading a book in the weather-beaten rocking chair that had come with the house. When she noticed him pull up, she stood and lifted her hand in a wave.
He returned the greeting and took in the view. She had her Doc Martens on again, but today she was wearing aviator sunglasses and a blue flowery sundress that was fluttering in the breeze.Damn it all.He groaned, his mind going to places it shouldn’t—like what her skin would feel like beneath his fingertips, like what flavor her lip gloss was, like how easy it would be to unbutton that dress and find every spot that made her sigh. She was temptation personified.
And she’d kissed him on the cheek.Fucking hell.
He schooled his expression into one of neighborly appropriateness and climbed out of the car. After grabbing his grocery bags, he headed up the walk.
Andi slid her sunglasses to the top of her head and smiled. “Hey there, neighbor. Need some help?”
His knee-jerk instinct was to say no, that he needed no help, but he stopped himself. Help meant more time with Andi. “Yeah, sure.”
She set her book down on the rocking chair and then met him at the top of the stairs. He off-loaded two bags to her and then unlocked the door. She followed him inside, trailing him to the kitchen.
He set his bags down and took the others from her. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” She leaned over and peeked into one of the bags. “Cooking anything interesting, Chef?”
“Just got the basics today. I keep it pretty straightforward. It’s not as fun cooking for one.” He started pulling out the things that needed to be refrigerated.
“You know, I’m happy to be your test subject,” she said, leaning against the counter and smiling. “I mean, I can probably find time in between my gourmet dinners of grilled cheese and frozen burritos to fit in a meal or two.”
He put a carton of eggs in the fridge and peeked back over his shoulder, surprised by the comment. “That can be arranged, but I hope you’re not really surviving by grilled cheese and burrito alone.”
She winced. “Boxed mac and cheese makes an appearance sometimes, too. And hot dogs if I’m feeling fancy.”
He shut the fridge and turned fully to her, trying to read if she was joking. She wasn’t. Knowing that she was living on cheap, food-type products disturbed him more than it should. “No one in your family ever taught you how to cook for yourself?”
She shrugged. “This is going to sound super pretentious, but my parents had hired help, so meals just appeared. If I went into the kitchen while Ms. Jenkins was cooking, she’d shoo me out. Even she knew what a hazard I was in the kitchen.”
“Well, of course you were a hazard if no one ever bothered to show you how to cook. It’s not something anyone’s born knowing how to do.” He pulled a few other items from the bags, an idea poking at his brain. He cleared his throat. “I could teach you a few things if you want.”
Her expression brightened. “Really? Do you have a death wish?”
He laughed. “I have full faith that I could teach you how to cook something other than boxed cheesy things without anyone dying in the process. It’s an important life skill. Cooking and not dying, I mean.”
