“That smells amazing. What is that?”

“I have ribs slow cooking in the oven.”

Her stomach growled, and she rested a hand against it to calm the beast within. “Fancy. Do you always cook for yourself?”

“Who else would cook for me?”

“I assume most guys would just get takeout or call a delivery service.”

“Why would I do that when I’m more than capable?”

She took a deep breath so she wouldn’t lash out and smack him. “Whatever. It smells awesome.”

“I… um…” He shifted his weight and ran a hand over his face. “I made extra.”

“Aww, Ryder, are you trying to invite me to stay for dinner?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

“I mean. Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Fine. Do you want to stay for dinner?” he barked.

“When you ask so nicely, how can I resist?”

“I wouldn’t be insulted if you said no. I was just trying to be nice.”

“Don’t you dare try to uninvite me now. I have my heart set on ribs.” She moved to the oven and bent down, peering in through the glass.

“They’re wrapped in tinfoil. You’re not going to see anything.”

“I wasn’t trying to look; I was trying to inhale the smell. What kind of barbeque sauce do you use?”

“I make my own.”

“Wow, you really are fancy, aren’t you?”

“I had the ingredients.”

“Modest too. It’s a good quality in a guy, even a grumpy one.”

“Are you going to talk the entire time?”

She stood up and turned to face him. “Do you prefer I awkwardly sit here in silence? Because I could totally do that, and I can make it as awkward as humanly possible.”

“Why do I not doubt that?”

“So it’s settled, I can keep talking?”

“I wouldn’t say settled.”

She sat at the kitchen table, rested her hands on the table, and pressed her lips together. She brought her gaze to his and stared at him as if she were a deer in headlights, tilting her head back and forth.

“Okay, stop that. You look like you’re possessed by Bambi.”