He sees the pink on her cheeks but doesn't spare an eyebrow or a smirk that might usually come with succeeding in making someone blush. They're just having fun, hanging out, getting to know each other, and Coop isn't as unfamiliar with boundaries as some people might believe him to be. He's got a reputation, yeah, but the thing is that he really doesn't think it's a bad one. He's slept with a hell of a lot of people, it's true, but he's never tried to hide that fact or who he is or the kind of person he chooses to be. He's just... Coop. People can like or him or not but what's nice about this town is most people, the ones that matter anyway, seem to choose the former.
He wants Raleigh to like him and keep liking him, not just because he can already picture what it would be like to kiss her but because she's genuine and earnest and all those things that can be so hard to find in a first impression of a person. He makes no apologies for himself, and he gets the sense that Raleigh is real enough to be the same way. Maybe he's wrong--he's been wrong before, and he'd paid for it--but he likes to think he's a good judge of character, and Raleigh's character is one he'd like to see stick around for more than just a day.
"Not true of all scary things but yeah, you're on the right track. I have this one client, chihuahua? Cutest little thing you've ever seen but goddamn, she's a monster after she gets her shots. Nearly bit my entire hand off once, I swear, she's a demon." His gaze falls on something just beyond Raleigh and his slicing comes to a stop as a fond smile curves his lip. He nods for her to look behind her at the pair of dogs that have wandered into the kitchen, and he can't help the soft laugh that escapes him.
"They always show up when there's scraps to be had," he says. "The American bulldog there, that's Sunny. He's been with me since high school, isn't that right, boy?" Sunny grunts as if in response and Coop shakes his head, mouthing an apology to Raleigh. "He's not great with his manners, old dog and new tricks and all that, right? Lucy, though, she's a sweetheart. Lab retriever mix, gentle as a lamb. And weirdly enough, they're like, total best friends. Also mine. We're the three best friends that anybody could have."
The dogs approach Raleigh, sniffing at her feet before Sunny loses interest and heads straight for Coop and Lucy lifts herself onto her hind legs so she can rest her front paws against Raleigh's hip. Coop's smile widens as he drops a piece of grilled chicken to the floor for Sunny to work on before returning to his cooking duties. "She likes you, she's friendly but she'll only jump up on people she likes. You do quick work on almost the whole household but don't mind Sunny, he always takes forever with the warming up."
He bends down to grab a mixing bowl and gets to work on combining the oil, ginger, and soy sauce before squeezing the lime juice in. "Anyway, yeah, the stick up Spencer's ass is less of a stick and more of a 'fuck you' to everyone who's ever treated him like shit, which is a lot, and I can't really blame him for being on edge. Far as you and my kitchen go, at least have her say it to my face, okay? No notes. I don't do notes. And if--if--someone, who even knows who, was lookin' to find out what my favorite pastry is, I'd have to say it's the Napoléon, straight from Le Grenier à Pain."
He says it with a near perfect French accent, one he's maintained even all these years after being so far removed from Paris. "This someone's got a lot to live up to, but I will very gladly accept any and all attempts to recreate what is seriously the most divine thing I've ever had the pleasure of putting in my mouth."
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He wants Raleigh to like him and keep liking him, not just because he can already picture what it would be like to kiss her but because she's genuine and earnest and all those things that can be so hard to find in a first impression of a person. He makes no apologies for himself, and he gets the sense that Raleigh is real enough to be the same way. Maybe he's wrong--he's been wrong before, and he'd paid for it--but he likes to think he's a good judge of character, and Raleigh's character is one he'd like to see stick around for more than just a day.
"Not true of all scary things but yeah, you're on the right track. I have this one client, chihuahua? Cutest little thing you've ever seen but goddamn, she's a monster after she gets her shots. Nearly bit my entire hand off once, I swear, she's a demon." His gaze falls on something just beyond Raleigh and his slicing comes to a stop as a fond smile curves his lip. He nods for her to look behind her at the pair of dogs that have wandered into the kitchen, and he can't help the soft laugh that escapes him.
"They always show up when there's scraps to be had," he says. "The American bulldog there, that's Sunny. He's been with me since high school, isn't that right, boy?" Sunny grunts as if in response and Coop shakes his head, mouthing an apology to Raleigh. "He's not great with his manners, old dog and new tricks and all that, right? Lucy, though, she's a sweetheart. Lab retriever mix, gentle as a lamb. And weirdly enough, they're like, total best friends. Also mine. We're the three best friends that anybody could have."
The dogs approach Raleigh, sniffing at her feet before Sunny loses interest and heads straight for Coop and Lucy lifts herself onto her hind legs so she can rest her front paws against Raleigh's hip. Coop's smile widens as he drops a piece of grilled chicken to the floor for Sunny to work on before returning to his cooking duties. "She likes you, she's friendly but she'll only jump up on people she likes. You do quick work on almost the whole household but don't mind Sunny, he always takes forever with the warming up."
He bends down to grab a mixing bowl and gets to work on combining the oil, ginger, and soy sauce before squeezing the lime juice in. "Anyway, yeah, the stick up Spencer's ass is less of a stick and more of a 'fuck you' to everyone who's ever treated him like shit, which is a lot, and I can't really blame him for being on edge. Far as you and my kitchen go, at least have her say it to my face, okay? No notes. I don't do notes. And if--if--someone, who even knows who, was lookin' to find out what my favorite pastry is, I'd have to say it's the Napoléon, straight from Le Grenier à Pain."
He says it with a near perfect French accent, one he's maintained even all these years after being so far removed from Paris. "This someone's got a lot to live up to, but I will very gladly accept any and all attempts to recreate what is seriously the most divine thing I've ever had the pleasure of putting in my mouth."