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“You mean, just me and you?”Expectations crammed into his head.His breathing went haywire.
Her lips quirked.“Do you have a problem with that?”
“No!”It came out way too loud.“Nada.Zilch.”Now she looked puzzled, and he rushed on.“As in, no problem.”he took a breath.Slow down, man.“What I meant is, I’d love to.”
“Great, because I bought this Ottolenghi recipe book a while back… at the Book Genie actually.”
“What?”
“Ottolenghi.He’s a famous chef in London.No-one in my family likes trying new recipes much, so… Do you like Turkish-influenced food?”
“Er, you mean kebabs?”
She laughed.“How about babaganoush?”
“Baba-gan-do anything for you,” he said jauntily, then grimaced.“Sorry, that was a crap line.What is it?”
“It’s a baked eggplant dip.I thought I’d make it as part of a meze platter.”
He hadn’t got a clue what that was either, but after his last atrocious line, he’d play it safe.“I’m salivating already.”
Judith beamed; he was sure she guessed he was way out of his depth when it came to culinary issues.
“I’ll text you my address.Around sevenish?”
“Perfect.”
She leaned in and kissed him on the lips, so swiftly he had no time to react.
“And for the record, I really love your bad jokes.”
