Page 24 of A Me and Him Thing
By 673126.
“If I look at food, it burns,” I tell him.
“Even peanut butter and jelly?”
“Every time.”
He grins. “That bad, huh?”
“You have no idea. I avoid the kitchen at all costs. Disasters await me in there.”
“Hey, I’ll teach you,” he offers.
“If you value your life, you’ll forget you ever offered.”
“I’ll live dangerously just this once.”
He doesn’t realize how serious I am. “You have been warned.”
Ren pulls out his phone, studying his calendar. “Let’s see,” he mumbles. “No, not then. Hmm. How about Saturday afternoon before I go to the restaurant? We’ll squeeze a run in before we cook.”
As long as we get to spend time together, I don’t care what we’re doing. Watching a man work in the kitchen is, well, let’s just say it’s alluring. Okay, sexy. “Out of your entire week, that’s your only free time?”
He taps his fingers on the table. “Pretty much. I work afternoons and nights, you work days.”
He’s right. When will we ever see each other? Of course, we’re managing so far.
There’s Sunday, his family day. But he doesn’t mention it, so I don’t. “I work from home Tuesday and Thursday mornings. I don’t have to be at work until one. I’m usually done with my work by eleven.”
He glances down at his phone. “No, I can’t do Tuesday or Thursday mornings.”
I wait for him to explain further, but he doesn’t. He leaves it at that. “Saturday’s fine with me, as long as we get our run in first. But teaching me to cook is a lost cause. I’m not kidding.”
“I’m not kidding around either,” he tells me with laser-focused eyes.
I have no idea if he’s still talking about cooking. Something tells me he’s not.
He doesn’t want anything from me. Just my time.
I’m willing to give it.
All of it.
Chapter Six
WHEN I ARRIVEearly at the restaurant on Thursday night, Ren is out making his rounds with customers.
I gesture to an empty table and ask the hostess, “Can I sit here and wait for Mr. Chambers? I love the atmosphere.” Secretly, I want to watch Ren. I don’t say that, though.
The hostess puts on her best smile. “Of course. Mr. Chambers is expecting you.”
A waiter approaches. “May I get you anything?”
I don’t want to be too full before the taste testing. “Just a waiter with lemon.” I clear my throat. “I meant a water with lemon, please.” Nerves are new to me. I don’t like them. At all.
Tonight Ren is wearing light-gray slim-fitting slacks and a dark-gray button-up, open at the neck. No blazer and no tie. He’s as classy as his restaurant, like it’s an extension of him. He moves from table to table with a slight swagger in his step. He’s smooth, no doubt about it. Consistently, the guests at the table he’s visiting erupt in loud laughter. That’s my favorite thing of all.
When he notices me sitting there watching him, he does a double take, and immediately walks toward me.
