“Oh, yeah.” She started pulling things out to prepare a meal.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Making us something to eat...”
He eyed the lettuce, cucumber, celery, and tomato. He wasn’t opposed to salad, but he didn’t foresee it filling him up. “I’d rather you go and do whatever you need to do and then we grab something.”
She eyed him, then glanced back at what was on her countertop. “Not a salad kind of guy?”
“It’s a nice first course,” he admitted, watching her closely for any sign that his comment bothered her. That wasn’t his goal. After working in her yard he’d need more than what was on her menu, though.
“Sorry.” She gave a small smile. “I wasn’t planning on company when I did my grocery shopping.”
“No worries. We’ll go somewhere—anywhere you like—and the next time you go grocery shopping you can plan for frequent company.”
Her cheeks pinkened. “I could do that...”
“And I could be that company.”
She laughed. “You think?”
“I hope.”
Hesitating only a moment, she nodded. “Let me put this away, then give me a few minutes to get ready to go out.”
She looked amazing to him already, but he knew she’d only blow off any compliment. “Sure, but I’ll put this stuff away.”
Her gaze lowered to the items, then she nodded. “Sounds good. Thanks.”
Placing the items back into the fridge had only taken Justin a minute, and while she showered he wandered around Riley’s house, looking at the few knickknacks she had sitting around—a few photos of her and Cassie, and a picture of her and an older woman who must be her mother.
She’d truly created a warm, comfortable home and he was sitting in an overstuffed chair, Daisy in his lap, when Riley came into the living room.
“You’re beautiful.”
She rolled her eyes. “You obviously got too much sun today.”
The fact that she refused to accept his compliments frustrated him. “If that were true it would only explain this moment. What about every other one since the moment we met?”
“Justin—”
“I’m serious, Riley. I find you beautiful. Don’t make light of it when I tell you so.”
“I... Okay.”
“I like how your shirt matches your eyes.”
“I... Thank you.”
“Good girl,” he praised.
“Don’t treat me as if I’m Daisy.”
“I’m not. Daisy expects to be doted on. You’re the exact opposite.”
“You have a point,” she agreed.
“For the record, I enjoy doting on you, Riley.”