Chase wanted his little problem to reappear.
They made their way to a table in the corner, and Chase scanned the menu posted above the counter. It was pretty straightforward, with chicken, lots of chicken, breasts, thighs, wings and tenders, and various degrees of heat, from Southern—no heat—to something called ‘Shut the Cluck Up!’
“Are you a breast man?” Kenzie asked. She gave him an innocent smile, as if it wasn’t a loaded question at all.
To hell with the chicken. Could anything be hotter than this woman?
“Yes,” Chase answered without hesitation. “I love a good breast. And thighs, legs, all of it, really.” He stole another glance at the menu board. “I’ll take the half bird.” Now he just needed to decide on a heat level. He’d said he could handle some heat, so he couldn’t be a wimp, but he didn’t want to kill himself, either. “And I’ll make her a hot one.”
“Just hot?” Kenzie’s hazel eyes danced with amusement. “If you say so. I’ll go with the tenders, but I prefer mine to be damn hot.”
It described her as well as her taste in chicken, and Chase almost changed his mind for the spiciest option, but that was probably stupid. If it was too hot to eat, which he suspected it would be, what did he prove? Nothing. He’d just look like an idiot.
They discussed sides and drink options, and Chase learned Kenzie liked French fries, macaroni and cheese and craft beer, which pretty much could make her his dream girl, if not for her ban on dating. Whatever that was about. He approached the counter to order the food and contemplated the decision he’d soon have to make. Should he agree to this project because the producer’s idea was intriguing to him, and Kenzie even more so, or would it be better to decline it outright because he already might be too interested in her?
Chase placed their order and made his way back to the table with two beers. It was a local label, something he’d never tried before, so he was taking her word that it would be good, or at least drinkable. “Here you go,” he said, setting one bottle in front of her before sitting down.
“Thanks.”
He took a drink, finding it mildly hopped with a smooth finish. Exactly the way he preferred his beer. Chase nodded his approval. “Nice.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
“Yeah,” he said. “So I guess you must really like food and beer, huh?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kenzie’s tone took on a defensive edge. “Are you saying I’m fat?”
“Fat?” What the hell? Where did that come from? Chase tried to figure out where he’d gone wrong. “Hell, no. I’m not saying that at all. I think you’re beautiful.” Hadn’t he fought to get a hard on under control, all the while checking out her ass? Christ, his cousin was right. He really was bad with women. “I just meant that you seem to know the menu here, and were able to make a beer recommendation as well, both of which I think are great qualities in a woman, by the way. I’m sorry if I offended you.”
“I’m sorry, too,” Kenzie said. “I didn’t mean to sound defensive. I just... forget it. Never mind.”
Chase arched a brow. Something was on her mind, for sure. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.” Kenzie shook her head. “I said to forget it. Tell me about yourself. Did you really go to Dartmouth?”
It was an obvious change of subject, and Chase wondered how much Carey had already told her. “I sure did,” he said. “I was supposed to become a doctor.”
***
A doctor? This guy really was a study in contrast. “Okay, go on,” Kenzie urged. Anything to change the subject off of her food habits. The last thing she wanted was for Chase to find out she’d once suffered from an eating disorder. He’d decide she was a head case for sure, and probably be on the next plane home. And Kenzie needed this gig.
Chase shrugged. “There’s not much to tell. My dad’s a doctor. So’s my uncle. So’s
They made their way to a table in the corner, and Chase scanned the menu posted above the counter. It was pretty straightforward, with chicken, lots of chicken, breasts, thighs, wings and tenders, and various degrees of heat, from Southern—no heat—to something called ‘Shut the Cluck Up!’
“Are you a breast man?” Kenzie asked. She gave him an innocent smile, as if it wasn’t a loaded question at all.
To hell with the chicken. Could anything be hotter than this woman?
“Yes,” Chase answered without hesitation. “I love a good breast. And thighs, legs, all of it, really.” He stole another glance at the menu board. “I’ll take the half bird.” Now he just needed to decide on a heat level. He’d said he could handle some heat, so he couldn’t be a wimp, but he didn’t want to kill himself, either. “And I’ll make her a hot one.”
“Just hot?” Kenzie’s hazel eyes danced with amusement. “If you say so. I’ll go with the tenders, but I prefer mine to be damn hot.”
It described her as well as her taste in chicken, and Chase almost changed his mind for the spiciest option, but that was probably stupid. If it was too hot to eat, which he suspected it would be, what did he prove? Nothing. He’d just look like an idiot.
They discussed sides and drink options, and Chase learned Kenzie liked French fries, macaroni and cheese and craft beer, which pretty much could make her his dream girl, if not for her ban on dating. Whatever that was about. He approached the counter to order the food and contemplated the decision he’d soon have to make. Should he agree to this project because the producer’s idea was intriguing to him, and Kenzie even more so, or would it be better to decline it outright because he already might be too interested in her?
Chase placed their order and made his way back to the table with two beers. It was a local label, something he’d never tried before, so he was taking her word that it would be good, or at least drinkable. “Here you go,” he said, setting one bottle in front of her before sitting down.
“Thanks.”
He took a drink, finding it mildly hopped with a smooth finish. Exactly the way he preferred his beer. Chase nodded his approval. “Nice.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
“Yeah,” he said. “So I guess you must really like food and beer, huh?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kenzie’s tone took on a defensive edge. “Are you saying I’m fat?”
“Fat?” What the hell? Where did that come from? Chase tried to figure out where he’d gone wrong. “Hell, no. I’m not saying that at all. I think you’re beautiful.” Hadn’t he fought to get a hard on under control, all the while checking out her ass? Christ, his cousin was right. He really was bad with women. “I just meant that you seem to know the menu here, and were able to make a beer recommendation as well, both of which I think are great qualities in a woman, by the way. I’m sorry if I offended you.”
“I’m sorry, too,” Kenzie said. “I didn’t mean to sound defensive. I just... forget it. Never mind.”
Chase arched a brow. Something was on her mind, for sure. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.” Kenzie shook her head. “I said to forget it. Tell me about yourself. Did you really go to Dartmouth?”
It was an obvious change of subject, and Chase wondered how much Carey had already told her. “I sure did,” he said. “I was supposed to become a doctor.”
***
A doctor? This guy really was a study in contrast. “Okay, go on,” Kenzie urged. Anything to change the subject off of her food habits. The last thing she wanted was for Chase to find out she’d once suffered from an eating disorder. He’d decide she was a head case for sure, and probably be on the next plane home. And Kenzie needed this gig.
Chase shrugged. “There’s not much to tell. My dad’s a doctor. So’s my uncle. So’s
Similar Books
It's All About Him
Denise Jackson
Letters of Love (Green Division Series Book #3)
Ashley Monahan
Love and Gravity
Olivia Connery
Alchymist
Ian Irvine
Witch’s Concubine
Cara Carnes
Her Dark Lord
Mel Teshco
I Need You
Jane Lark
Down from the Cross
Joyce Livingston
Girls Who Travel
Nicole Trilivas