Page 78 of Holly versus Mr. Ivy
“Please,” I sassed. “Why would I care about what food I ate?” I totally cared. Majority of the time when I went out to eat I was annoyed with myself for paying someone else to make me a dish I could have made better at home. On the rare occasion I found a place that was up to my standards, I faithfully returned.
Rhett laughed. “No reason at all. By the way, thank you again for dinner Thursday night. I think you’ve ruined me from ever attending my family’s holiday gatherings. No one, not even the food we have had catered, has come close to the deliciousness you made.”
“Aw, Rhett.” I placed a hand over my heart. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” I teased.
“Just take the compliment, woman,” he said, exasperated. “And if that’s the nicest thing I’ve said to you, I have a lot of work to do.”
My coatswooshedas I moved my arms in acome-onmotion. “I’m ready. Lay it on me.”
His lips scrunched to the side. “Nah. It feels forced at the moment. You’ll have to wait.”
“That’s just mean.”
“It is.”
“Moving along. What do you want to get?”
He held a hand up. “I’m not the one who’s picky. I’ll eat whatever.”
Just to spite Rhett, I might pick the nastiest food I saw there.Ew. Maybe not. “What is your favorite food?”
“As you witnessed on Thanksgiving, I’m a meat-and-potatoes kind of guy. Give me a perfectly grilled steak, and I’m one happy man.”
“How does The Boardwalk compare to other places where you’ve eaten?” Had Rhett found a steakhouse somewhere else he liked, and if so, if I went, would I be able to figure out why Rhett liked theirs better than mine?
“Hmmm.” Rhett’s eyes narrowed. “It sounds like you’re hearing me, but the words coming out of my mouth aren’t sinking in.”
I had no clue what he was talking about. “What?”
He reached over, placing his hand on my shoulder, and squeezed. “How many times do I need to tell you how amazing you are? You’re an excellent chef, Holly.”
Faking innocence, I said, “Pretty sure that’s the first time I’ve heard those words come out of your mouth.” He’d told me multiple times I was one of the best chefs he’d worked with. I just liked hearing him say it.
He quickly shot me a dry look before turning his gaze back to the road. “So itisa comprehension issue.” Rhett tapped his thumb against his steering wheel. “I guess I need to figure out another way to tell you.”
I smirked. “Guess so.”
“Holly?”
“Yes?”
“For American food, The Boardwalk is the best I’ve had, and it’s one hundred percent due to the executive chef.”
Gushy warmth filled my chest. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”
“Happy to speak the truth anytime you need to hear it.”
“Is that so?” I quirked a brow. “If I asked if my pants made me look fat, you’d actually tell me what you thought and not just what you think I want to hear?”
He wagged a finger. “That’s a trick question designed to get me in trouble. Also, I highly doubt there is a single pair of pants in the world that would make you look fat.”
Aw, thanks Rhett. “Really, in the whole world? I may be small, but surely somewhere there is an outfit that wouldn’t flatter my lower half.”
Rhett smiled conspiratorially. “Should we travel the globe and find out? I will happily watch you try on every pair of pants in search of the one that dares to make your butt look bad.”
Heat flooded my neck and chest. Dang, I really needed to thank Noah for helping me find my favorite jeans. “Let me guess, you’d only want to see me from behind?”
“No, it wouldn’t be fair unless I assessed all angles.”
