it's a beautiful day for a neighbor

[coopdetat]

It's been one hell of a Saturday, and it's not even noon yet.

He'd been woken up nearly at the crack of dawn by a petite pair of hands--quickly followed by a larger, stronger pair--in bed this morning and the past couple hours had consisted of the kind of vigorous activity Coop can't get out of playing basketball or going to the gym. He'd met the married couple, Sophie and Luka, during his time abroad in France nearly six years ago and when he'd decided to return to Siren Cove, he'd invited them to visit anytime. They'd accepted his offer and every third week in July, Coop takes a few days off from work--aside from emergency calls, of course--to spend some quality time with his friends.

He waves goodbye to them now with the promise of seeing them again next year as their cab pulls off the curb in front of his house. He waves until the car turns a corner and then he drops his arm to his side, rolling his neck and shoulders with a satisfied sigh and smile before offering a wave to a small group of people who pass. It takes him a moment to understand why he's getting stares as they walk by until he looks down and remembers he's not wearing much in the way of any actual clothing, save for the pair of itty bitty briefs that are really just a courtesy anyway.



He gives the group a salute, holding back a laugh at the way a couple of them trip over their own feet before they correct themselves in a hurry, and shifts his attention to the next person who approaches with a bright grin.

"Beautiful day, isn't it?"



[OOC: Be a neighbor, be coming over for a visit, or just be passing by!]

Comments

[coopdetat]

"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.

[callmeemily]

She rolls her eyes before she slips off the stool, wincing just slightly as she comes down on her bad leg. She walk towards the patio, talking to him over her shoulder. "Not saying you're not a sight to see, but... Coop, you've got to admit you've got a nice view." She grins as she looks back at him, and you could say she was flirting - she didn't realise she was, but she was, it was just... not as overt as he was. She comes back from the patio, and slips back onto the stool.

"I choose," she says as he doles out the salads, "To believe that the backyard taste-testing was for future meals because that way, I get to give you pastries and get the opinion of somebody who actually knows what they're supposed to be eating. I feel like I could give somebody here a Krispy Kreme, and they'd not be able to tell the difference." She smiles at him, leaning her chin on her hand as he winks, but then he asks if she's prepared, and she raises her eyebrows but she nods. "I got it. Thinking hat on, loving your dogs and kitchen, delusion in place."

She knows she's being watched, so she carefully stabs a bite of salad that's got a little bit of everything, and takes a bite- And it's good. It's really good, and she gets this look on her face--

There's a thing about Raleigh.

She likes food. She really likes good food, she likes the way it tastes, the way that flavors play together - but there's a problem. Food? Is expensive. She went from virtually every dollar she had going to her mother to being a broke college student, to living in a town where she'd lived on virtually only rice and beans and whatever she could get from the bakery for six months. Now, she lives with Joel and Spencer, and she's started eating regular meals, she's starting to actually have extra money to buy food and cook, but this?

She makes a face and a sound that she realises suddenly aren't quite appropriate, and it makes her actually turn red. Chewing and swallowing, her hand is in front of her mouth when she speaks. "Sorry- Sorry, it's good. You did good, it's good." She's still crimson as she looks studiously down at her salad because-- because she's missed flavor, but it's just all.... it's right. It's all right, the way he's put it together, the profile and the layers. It's good.