“You’re not hungry yet, are you?” Cool-guy asked.

“No.” I smiled. Not hungry but ready to eat. Um. Who wouldn’t be?

“I thought we could sit out here for a while.”

“Great.” I was going to keep the conversation light. You know. So we would get to the food faster.

“I’ve been building this rock garden all summer. I’ve had a lot of fun putting it all together.”

“It’s amazing.”

“Would you like some more wine?”

“Yes.”

Ok. I mean. The garden was unbelievable. There were long rock benches overlooking breathtaking mountain vistas. There was a ten foot totem pole his Aspen friend had carved with various animals on it. But. When a famous chef invites you to dinner, surely he doesn’t think that you care about the garden. Um. I was ready to eat. And. I could only hope that he wasn’t serving plain brown rice, my daily main course.

“I’m hoping to find some cushions for these rock benches when I go to Portugal in a few weeks. I don’t know exactly what I’m looking for. Something colorful.”

“Good idea.” I mumbled. Um. Enough talking?

I was relieved when he suggested we go inside. Would it be rude to demand food? Yes. I had eaten lunch. But. Muriel, who had set us up, promised that this dinner was going to be unbelievable.

We sat on the couch where he replenished my wine and served appetizers. A pizza with guacamole, cheese and salmon. Um. So much for high expectations. He must have forgotten I couldn’t eat wheat.

“This is a special gluten free pizza crust.” He said, sitting down next to me.

“You’re kidding.” I eagerly attacked the first pizza I’d been able to eat in years. “How did you get the crust so light?”

“It’s a secret.” He smiled. “I’m not going to tell you all my secrets on our second date…”

I laughed and took another bite. “This smoked salmon is amazing. On which date will you divulge your secret salmon source?”

He laughed. “I smoked it myself. I have a smoker downstairs.”

“If you ever decided to sell smoked salmon...” I said, between mouthfuls, I’d be your best customer.”

He laughed.

“So. What’s the story of that three dimensional picture?” I asked, pointing to the art hanging on the wall.

“It’s a Fresco. I got it in Australia. It cost a fortune to have it shipped back, but I like to be surrounded by the things from my travels.”

“I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“The woman who owned the shop lived in Boulder for a while.”

“No way.”

“She gave me a great deal on it.”

There was a little colorful box on the coffee table. I picked it up. “And what’s in here?”

“Travel treasures.” He smiled as he opened the top slowly. “This’s a seed from Thailand. Here’s a piece of jade a good friend gave to me. I love this bead from India. And the collection wouldn’t be complete with this Hawaiian shell.”

We moved to the dinning room table which was already set for dinner. Good. We could eat sooner. There were graduated plates for each of us and clean glasses and fresh flowers and candles floating in an antique dish at the center of the table. There was a wall of windows so we could watch the night fall on the mountains.

A great big seafood salad. That’s what was for dinner. No. Not thrown haphazardly on my plate Holly-style. But. Set up beautifully with presentation. I gingerly tried the first bite. Perfection. Just enough dressing. Here was a guy who knew how to cook fish. The greens were perfect. Was this heaven? I quickly tried the second and third bite. Yes. Just right.

“This is so good.” I said with food in my mouth.

“Glad you like it. Thanks so much for driving all the way up here.”

“Any time you are willing to cook, I’m willing to drive.”

“Really?” He challenged, leaning in for a kiss.

Ok. This was going to be a problem. Sure. I was curious about that kiss. And. I was ready for it too. I mean. After all. He was unbearably cute. Tall and slim. I know. Aren’t chefs supposed to be short and fat? Um. Not him. And his hair was just long enough that I could let my fingers get twisted up in it. Yes. I was ready for that kiss. I mean. After that seven hour lunch date and hours of phone calls and tons of e-mails he wasn’t feeling like such a stranger.

But. The timing. The timing. Um. The timing was all off. I mean. I was in the middle of eating. And. I had only a split second to decide. Do I quick shovel in another bite, or return the kiss? Because. The wrong decision might make me appear to be ungrateful. Either I was turning down a kiss or turning away food. Oh. What to do?

I resisted the calling of the food and leaned over. “Yes. You cook, I’ll drive.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” He kissed me lightly.

Yeah. I know. Somehow. Somehow that little light kiss got a bit heavier. No. It wasn’t planned. But. It was good. I mean. The kiss. It was really, really good.

I pulled away. “Wow.”

He laughed.

Oh god. Did I say that out loud? “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

“That’s ok.” He smiled, leaning in for another kiss.

Yeah. The second kiss was even better.

Oh my god. Where did he learn to kiss like that? “Wow.” I murmured. No way. I didn’t say that out loud again, did I? “I can’t believe I said that out loud.” I blushed.

He laughed. “Hey. That was only the five cent kiss.”

“I think you might be underestimating...”

He laughed. “Wait till you see the twenty five cent kiss.”

I laughed. I mean. Come on. I’ve been kissed by the best, haven’t I?

He leaned in and planted a heavy kiss on me. Oh. Man. He had definitely turned up the heat. OHMYGOD. He pulled away.

“Wow. Wow.” I said softly.

He laughed. “Which do you like better? The five cent kiss, or the twenty five cent kiss?”

That kiss was unbelievable. Could all chefs kiss like that? “Now I know why people love math so much.” I said, trying to find my bearings.

“Were we talking about math?” He asked softly, letting his hand smooth my hair back in place.

“You know. Math. Multiplication. Five times five. Kissing.”

“You’re babbling.” He smiled, and kissed me again.

“Wow.”