Читать книгу Cooking Up Romance онлайн | страница 6

In all truth, she’d hoped she’d find Mr. Franks, like she’d planned, and he’d have a huge stomach hanging over his belt buckle, a man always eager to eat. She would’ve appealed to his appetite and secured the job with ease. So much for meditation and envisioning her future. Why did she even bother to listen to online self-help podcasts?

The Not-Mr. Franks, the well-built man who obviously watched what he ate, stepped toward the window, so she leaned over to give him the also-neon-pink-flyer-styled menu. Maybe she should have rethought the color before targeting construction jobs. Her fingers touched his at the handoff. Zip, a tingle ran up her arm. Well, that hadn’t happened in a long time. Odd. Had he felt it, too?

He removed his hard hat while he perused her face. Hair that was longer than she’d expected swept across his forehead and covered half of his ears. Nice waves. Nice suntan. Nice smile lines. Wait, he was smiling at her.

She forced a tense, overwide smile. “See anything you like?”

His eyebrow shot up as his gaze held firm with hers. Oh, crud, she hadn’t meant to say it like some old come-on line. Understandably, he could totally take it wrong, but she hadn’t meant it that way! His steady stare with the one raised brow said otherwise and made her wonder what was going on in his mind. Really, dude? Her thoughts quickly slipped to insecurity. “Food-wise,” she added hastily.

His green eyes twinkled playfully for an instant before he gave her a benevolent smile and glanced back at the menu. “What do you recommend?” Thank goodness, he hadn’t taken the lowbrow tease route, because these days she wouldn’t work for a man who did.

“If you allow me to fire up my grill, I’ll make you the Chicken Done Right wrap. Oh, and I’ve got all the permits to operate and the health department certificate, if you’d like to see them.” Being in construction, the man had to know all about the importance of pulling permits.

He thought, his lower lip pushed out the tiniest bit, and, darn, that was a sexy look, which she had no business noticing. “Chicken sounds good. And I can see your permits from here.” They were posted in frames on the kitchen wall. All she’d needed to do was gesture to them, but no, she’d gone her usual route of explaining too much.