“Like you?” His eyes twinkled merrily as he reached with one hand for two mugs from the open shelf above the sink and set them on the island before attempting to open the wrapper on one of the teabags.
“Or…someone else.” I stepped forward to help, gesturing to the kettle. “Would you like me to take over?”
“Nah, that’s okay. I’ve become pretty good at doing things one-handed. It just takes longer than usual. Have a seat.”
“All right.”
I sat on the barstool at the end of the island and thanked him when he slid a mug of tea toward me.
He smiled in response and bent his head to lift the foil from the plate I’d brought over—examining the cookies while I examined him.
A lock of dark hair fell across his forehead, which on some men might have looked boyish. But McSwoony was very masculine. And big. I gnawed the inside of my cheek, admiring his beefy arms, broad chest, and large hands. Confession, I had a thing for hands and strong forearms. My gaze fixed on his biceps, straining the seams of his light-blue button-down shirt under his sling, his trim waist, and the strategically faded and frayed denim at his crotch. Oh, yes. He appeared to be big all over and—
“Do you take cream or sugar?”
I jumped a mile in my seat and yelped. “Oh, snaps!”
“You okay?” His lips twitched as he plucked a cookie from the plate and skirted the island to join me.
“Yes.” I cleared my throat, reaching for the mug. “I, uh…zoned out for a moment.”
“No worries. I do it all the time lately. Ooh, this is good,” he said around a bite of cookie.
“Thank you. It’s one of my better recipes. I add a hint of rosemary. Unexpected, but delightful. And it goes well with mint tea.” I took a sip to shut myself up.
I had a bad habit of talking too much when I was nervous, and I had nothing whatsoever to be nervous about. I wasn’t attempting a flirtation. I wouldn’t dream of such a thing with my shoulder-impaired neighbor. And while I appreciated that his indulgent smile was most likely meant to set me at ease, I didn’t want or need to be coddled. I was here on house business.
I wiggled on my barstool, intending to gracefully redirect conversation to aiding his convalescence, but he beat me to it.
“Rosemary? Hmm. Does that mean these cookies are good for you?”
I shook my head. “I wish. These are chockful of butter and sugar.”
“All the best things are,” he sighed. “Why can’t bacon be good for you? I think Linc asked me that one last week. Right after he asked why the sky was blue.”
“Oh, that’s an easy one. The sky is blue because Earth’s atmosphere scatters or deflects the sun’s rays. Shorter wavelengths, like blues and purples, deflect most strongly, so shades of blue light are most visible to the naked eye.”
He stopped chewing his cookie and stared at me for a long moment. “That’s impressive.”
I gave an awkward half laugh, pushing my glasses higher on my nose as I shifted to face him. “Not really. Science is both my kryptonite and my profession.”
Oh, that was…geeky. Ground control to Chet! Impart message and get the heck out!
“Cool. Science is Linc’s thing too,” he replied, his eyes sparking with paternal pride.
I smiled wanly and cautioned myself not to ask a million questions. Not easy. I was dying to know more about this sexy single dad and the son my friends inferred was a bit…wild. But that wasn’t my mission. I was here to offer aid. And I would do that as soon as I could string more than a few words together.
“That’s good. Science is life.”
“Nah, football is life.” He winked as he reached for his mug. “At least that’s my opinion. Linc would probably agree with you, though. I’m sorry he’s not here to meet you. So…what time are you available on Saturday?”
“Oh, I’m…” I pushed away from the island and stood. I needed a little distance to gather my thoughts. This man was far too distracting. “Let me begin again.”
“Uh…o-kay.”
I cleared my throat as I scrolled to the notes I’d taken at the meeting. I didn’t want to leave anything out.
“I’m here to offer assistance on behalf of my household, Mr. McSwoony. If you need someone to purchase groceries, drive you to a doctor appointment or supply you with baked goods while you’re recovering from your shoulder injury, please don’t hesitate to call.”
“Well, thanks. I appreciate it, but I can still drive.”
“Oh. That’s good.”
“And since I’m not working at the moment, I have plenty of time to run errands. In fact, if you need anything from the market, call me. I mean that. My contract for my new gig starts in January, but I’m hoping to be back on the field by December first.”