looked like garlic cheese bread and a tossed salad sat in a bowl to the side. He served her a plate, then made another for himself.
She took a bite. âOh my God. You made this? Out here? From scratch?â
âI did. Itâs not my finest meal, but it was the best I could do with the limited resources available. Most of my first choice ingredients wouldnât keep in these conditions.â
She wiped her mouth with her napkin. âThis is amazing. I canât even make a sandwich and here you are making all of this on a camping stove. You really shouldnât have gone to so much trouble just for me.â
âYou were worth every second I spent in the sweltering heat of the kitchen tent this afternoon.â He smiled, his eyes crinkling around the edges slightly. âIâm glad youâre enjoying it. So tell me what your specialty is. Everyone has something they can cook.â
She shook her head. âNot me.â
âOne dish. I know you donât eat in restaurants every night. And thereâs only so much you can order in. So whatâs your go to meal of choice?â
âYou think Iâm kidding, but I really canât cook. Nights when I stay in and donât want to order, I usually eat cereal or yogurt or some other easy food. I donât cook. But I do love to bake.â
âReally? You must not eat the things you bake.â His eyes drifted down her body. Heat radiated along her skin in his wake.
âI do eat it actually. Most people think I must be anorexic or something, but trust me, I have a very healthy appetite. I also have a high metabolism and I try to workout when I can.â She shrugged. âIt seems to work for me.â
âI agree.â
The silence around them was comfortable as they ate. For once in her life, she was on a date â
Just dinner, remember! â
and wasnât completely nervous about doing the right thing or saying the wrong thing. It was refreshing.
âSo how do you manage to keep looking so incredibly put together all the time when youâre out on these crazy locations filming and eating whatever your cooks make for you that day?â Zoe asked. She knew other people, tabloids mostly, had made fun of Chip and his very âmetrosexualâ appearance. But she didnât mind it at all. She liked a guy who took care of himself as much as she did.
Not that she was vain, regardless of what others might call her. She believed in looking your best to feel your best. If you go out into the world, why not do that with your best foot forward?
Chip grinned. âI like to work out too. Maybe we should work out together sometime.â
With Chip in the woods. Hot and sweaty. Muscles bulging from the workout. Yes, please.
âYou even work out here? What do you do, bench press a tree?â She laughed at the thought of it.
âMostly I jog around camp. Iâm surprised you havenât heard me running past your tent each morning. I also do pushups and crunches. But Iâm not opposed to bench-pressing something, although fallen logs are kind of messy. Perhaps youâd like to fill the position for me?â
I can think of a few positions Iâd like to fill.
No. Stop.
âIâm not sure I want to be bench-pressed.â
He chuckled. âOkay so maybe no bench-pressing. But you are welcome to come for a jog with me any morning you like.â
âIâll keep that in mind. Though I do like my sleep more than I like being out in the chilly morning air getting sweaty.â She took her last bite of pasta then wiped her mouth with her napkin and leaned back against his cot. She rubbed her stomach. âIâm so full. Remind me to have you over for dinner at my place. You can show me how to use my stove for more than baking brownies.â
âAbsolutely, but you have to promise me one thing.â
âWhatâs that?â she asked, her curiosity piqued.
âIâll
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley