couch, though.”
Dean sighs heavily and runs a hand through his dark hair, pushing the loose strands off his forehead. “I’m not home very much, so I don’t really see any point at dropping loads of money on furniture.”
“Why aren’t you home very much? Where do you go?”
“Your bakery, my co-working space…wherever.” He shrugs dismissively. “I used to hang out at Kate and Lynsey’s a lot when they lived in this complex, but that’s obviously changed now. And I keep hoping someday I am going to move somewhere more exciting than Boulder. Having a bunch of shit would just tie me down.”
My lips purse at that surprising remark. “Where would you want to move to?”
“I’m not sure yet…I’m waiting for inspiration to strike.” He winks playfully at me. “And when I am home, I’m usually upstairs in my bedroom because my bed is very comfortable.” He waggles his brows suggestively. “Want to see?”
A flush runs up my cheeks, and that nervous sweat threatens to return. My voice is thick when I reply, “Maybe we should eat first.” I rub my sweaty palms on my jeans and play with one of the frayed holes. “I’m kind of excited to see the culinary delights you’ve crafted for us tonight.”
He shoots me a boyish smile and lifts his brows. “Oh Norah…you’re in for a treat.”
He heaves himself out of the beanbag chair and offers me his hand. When he yanks me up, our bodies brush against each other, and a flurry of desire rushes through me at the contact. Dean drapes his arm around my shoulders and guides me to the wooden stool at his breakfast bar. As I sit down and glance into the kitchen, my eyes widen in horror.
Dean’s kitchen is…a disaster. A horrible, dirty-dishes-and-food-everywhere, filthy disaster.
“Is that cream of mushroom?” I ask, pointing at the opened tin can sitting out beside an empty can of green beans.
“Yep! This is my mom’s recipe.” He winks and hunches over to peer into the oven.
“What recipe?” I ask, anxiety creeping inside me as I wonder what he’s about to pull out of there. I can smell it, but I can’t place it.
“I made you”—he pauses as he grabs a glass casserole dish with a pot holder and spins around to face me—“tater tot casserole.”
“What?” I stare down at the strange dish and try not to laugh.
“Tater tot casserole,” he replies excitedly and sets it on the counter, shoving several dishes out of the way to make room. “Ground beef, green beans, and cream of mushroom with tots and cheese on top. It’s the best.”
“You don’t eat tater tot casserole,” I reply with an accusing frown and point at his body. “You can’t look like that and eat stuff like this. It’s scientifically impossible.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “You can’t make baked goods like this”—he points at my Tupperware dessert that I spent ninety minutes making and is now lost in the mess that is Dean’s kitchen—“and look the way you look.”
I shake my head. “I’m not sporting a six-pack.”
“You’re perfect,” he says, taking a nibble of a crispy tater tot. “And we can have cheat days. It’s about moderation.”
I sigh as he proceeds to dish the food into bowls…not plates. Bowls that he probably uses for cereal. He truly is a bachelor. This is a side of Dean Moser I could have lived without seeing. He places a bowl in front of me and gasps dramatically. “I almost forgot.” He turns around and finds something in a bag buried below a few other bags on his counter and retrieves a sprig of…
“Mint? Are you actually garnishing tater tot casserole with…mint?” I am horrified.
“Presentation is one of the five senses, right?” He blinks back at me with wide-eyed innocence that would be annoying if he wasn’t so sexy. He brings it to his nose and sniffs. “Plus, it smells good. Double whammy.”
I cover my face with my hands. “I feel like I’ve entered some sort of alternate universe.”
He laughs and moves around the counter to sit on the barstool beside me with his own mint garnished bowl. I point at the mess in the kitchen. “You’re not going to clean any of that up?”
He wrinkles his nose. “Maybe later. Eat now, it’ll get cold.”
I shake my head while taking a bite and…well…actually…it’s really good. It’s comfort food, so of course it’s good. And I’m not opposed to comfort food. Not at all. I love a good pot roast with some chutney potatoes and a