"Did I even try?" He huffs an overly incredulous laugh, clutching at his chest--with the hand that's not holding the mixing fork, thanks--as if he's been deeply offended. "I cannot even believe that you, yeah, you know what, you're right. I did not even remotely try, so I'll just be real for a second and say that you're welcome to come over to check out that view--" He points with the fork out toward the door to the patio, the infinity pool and beach beyond plainly in sight. "--or this view." He points back at himself, tilting his head and offering his most charming of smiles. "The choice is yours, my friend, and you don't even only get one shot at making it. Of course, you can keep saying you're here for the kitchen and the dogs, but I think we both know what you'll really be coming back for."
Another laugh slips past him, this one more amused with himself than anything else because yeah, he can admit that he's totally full of shit sometimes. Except he hadn't been totally full of shit just now, they've known each other for all of three seconds but she's already sassy as hell and she's nice to his dogs and those are two qualities he always likes in a person. Also, napoleons. He won't forget the napoleons.
"I'm talking about the food you're about to eat, by the way," he says with a wink. He'll flirt, but he doesn't like to be gross about it. He knows he walks a fine line between confident and cocky but he tries to be as real with people as he can. He works hard and plays just as hard, he makes no apologies for it, and the people who've accepted that are the ones who have stayed in his life. He already kind of hopes Raleigh will be one of them.
The last thing he needs to do is add the chicken, but he grabs a couple plates for them first before doling out the appropriate portion from the mixing bowl onto each. He glances up at Raleigh, wiggling his eyebrows. "I hope you're prepared for this because this is the best salad you'll ever have, and I'm totally not talking it up way more than I should at all even though I'm not a professional chef and there's probably way better ones than this like ten feet from my house but that's beside the point, if you love Lucy and you love my kitchen, you will agree to my delusion."
He places the chicken slices carefully over the salad on one of the plates then nudges it toward her before doing the same for his own. He doesn't bother cleaning up just yet, he wants to know what she thinks, so he hands her a fork from his utensil drawer and crosses his arms over his chest as he watches carefully for a reaction.
no subject
Another laugh slips past him, this one more amused with himself than anything else because yeah, he can admit that he's totally full of shit sometimes. Except he hadn't been totally full of shit just now, they've known each other for all of three seconds but she's already sassy as hell and she's nice to his dogs and those are two qualities he always likes in a person. Also, napoleons. He won't forget the napoleons.
"I'm talking about the food you're about to eat, by the way," he says with a wink. He'll flirt, but he doesn't like to be gross about it. He knows he walks a fine line between confident and cocky but he tries to be as real with people as he can. He works hard and plays just as hard, he makes no apologies for it, and the people who've accepted that are the ones who have stayed in his life. He already kind of hopes Raleigh will be one of them.
The last thing he needs to do is add the chicken, but he grabs a couple plates for them first before doling out the appropriate portion from the mixing bowl onto each. He glances up at Raleigh, wiggling his eyebrows. "I hope you're prepared for this because this is the best salad you'll ever have, and I'm totally not talking it up way more than I should at all even though I'm not a professional chef and there's probably way better ones than this like ten feet from my house but that's beside the point, if you love Lucy and you love my kitchen, you will agree to my delusion."
He places the chicken slices carefully over the salad on one of the plates then nudges it toward her before doing the same for his own. He doesn't bother cleaning up just yet, he wants to know what she thinks, so he hands her a fork from his utensil drawer and crosses his arms over his chest as he watches carefully for a reaction.