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help?”
    “No, I’m cooking. Your job is to eat,” he said over his shoulder. He took a loaf of bread out of the bag, then began looking in cabinets and drawers for things he’d need to cook dinner.
    “You sure you don’t need me to help? I do know where I keep the pots and pans.”
    “Ah-ha!” he exclaimed. “Found it. It’s not rocket science. Sit down and relax. Everything is under control.” He busied himself seasoning the chicken and putting it in the oven before starting on the vegetables.
    “Okay, but this feels weird. I feel like I should be doing something.”
    He looked up at me with that grin of his. “Will you relax? When was the last time someone cooked for you?”
    I looked down and away before answering. “No one’s ever cooked for me, unless I count my daddy.” I look back up at Cooper. “Does that count?”
    He seemed to be considering that question thoughtfully and finally said, “Sure, it counts.” A moment later he moved around the counter, took me by the shoulders with both hands and led me to the closest barstool. “Sit. I’ve got mad skills in the kitchen. You’ll be impressed. I want you to have front row seating.” He winked for good measure.
    “Is that right?”
    “Cross my heart.”
    “Can I at least get you something to drink?”
    He turned toward the refrigerator and grabbed two beers, popped the caps on both bottles and handed me one. “Nope, I got it.”
    I decided to wave my white flag and do as he asked. Sitting there, my mind began to wander. Every time he took a sip of his beer I watched his lips, and I found myself wishing I was that bottle. His lips were full and soft looking, and I was wondering to myself if I liked his lips better than his eyes or his eyes better than his lips. After comparing the two I decided I liked them both equally. Yep, definitely equally.
    “What are you thinking about?”
    “W-What?”
    “What are you thinking about? You seem deep in thought over there.”
    “Uh… nothing.” I felt my face flush and I looked down, hoping he couldn’t tell, and took a sip of my beer.
    “ Nothing doesn’t make a person blush.” His head was tilted down, but his eyes were looking up at me. “What were you thinking about?”
    “If I told you, you would laugh, so I’m not telling,” I said, really hoping he would drop it.
    “Oh no, now you have to tell me.” He turned toward the stove and stirred the ingredients in the pot.
    My daddy’s words crept to the surface and I could almost hear him say, “Be fearless.” I took a breath. “Okay, listen, I know you said we needed to be friends, and I want that too, really, I do, but sometimes I think about kissing you, and …” I let out a big sigh. “God, this is embarrassing. I was thinking just now what it would be like is all.” I didn’t bother looking up at him because I was completely mortified. I waited for him to say something but he remained silent. I willed myself to look at him after what seemed like forever to see if I could judge his expression.
    When I looked up he was standing beside me. He placed his hands on either side of my cheeks. My heart was racing and I thought, This is it. He’s going to kiss me. He leaned in and my breath caught.
    His lips hovered over mine and I felt like my heart might beat right out of my chest. I could smell mint mixed with beer on his breath, as well as his cologne. The combination was an intoxicating mix and I started to feel slightly dizzy. I waited for his kiss.
    He licked his lips. “Lily, I’ve wondered the same thing…what it would be like to kiss you. So many times.” His eyes dropped to my mouth and he held his gaze there before moving his eyes back up to meet mine. “And I want to kiss you. More than anything. But…”
    “But what?” I said in barely above a whisper.
    He dropped his gaze back to my lips. “But you haven’t tried my cooking yet. You may not want to kiss me after you’ve tasted it.”
    “I’ll take my