Jensen answered the door wearing the same disguise he'd had on earlier.
I lifted a brow. "Incognito in your own apartment? Is there something I should know, Lund?"
He groaned. "The restaurant was way behind with orders and I just got home. Come in, and pour yourself a glass of wine while I get changed. I set everything up on the dining room table."
I'd never been farther into his apartment than his living room. As I turned the corner, I realized his apartment was laid out differently than ours. The dining room was a separate area instead of a part of the kitchen. Out the sliding glass door, a balcony ran the length of the kitchen and overlooked the pool. I opened the wine and noticed only one glass. Not that there was room for anything else on the table, as it appeared he'd ordered enough food from Emily's Lebanese Deli for ten people.
When he said, "All right," as he came up behind me, I jumped, sloshing wine all over my shirt and the floor.
"Shit. I'm sorry."
"Got paper towels right here." He tossed one on the floor and said, "See? No worries."
"Jensen. Maybe this was a bad idea."
Taking the glass of wine from my hand, he set it aside, moving in so close I couldn't see the tops of my feet, which I'd been staring at intently. Then he said, "Rowan. Look at me."
I tilted my head back and met his gaze. All I saw in his eyes was concern.
"What's going on? Why are you so jumpy?"
"I don't know. Maybe because this feels like a date, even when I know it's not."
His eyes searched mine and I couldn't look away. "Total honesty between us, okay?"
I nodded.
"I find you hot as fuck. You're smart, sexy and sassy and that pushes all the right buttons for me. But despite all that? There are a lot of things about you that make you exactly the type of woman I don't date. So go change shirts and get back here to have dinner with me-as friends. Okay?"
"Okay."
He grinned-that devastatingly wicked sexy grin that made female football fans' panties damp. "However, I will restrain myself from slapping you on the ass as I would my other friends."
"So noted."
"Hurry back. I'm starving."
In my bedroom I didn't even fret over which shirt to wear; I just grabbed one. I returned to Jensen's in under three minutes.
He'd already opened up all the containers and poured me another glass of wine. I noticed he'd gotten a beer for himself.
"Holy crap, Lund. Did you order the entire menu?"
He blushed. "I didn't know what you like. So yeah, I think I got one of everything." He pointed at the offerings. "Dolmathes-stuffed grape leaves-chicken kabob, kafta kabob, hummus, spinach pie, baba ghannuj, mistah bread, Lebanese chicken and rice, Lebanese green beans, lentils and rice, kibbi-kinda like meatloaf-and tabbouleh. I burn a lot of calories, so I need a lot of calories. Trust me. None of this will go to waste."
"This looks great. I haven't had Emily's in ages. I used to eat there all the time when I was in college. Sadly, Calder isn't a fan."
"I wasn't either at his age. Tastes change."
"I try to expose him to different foods. It's funny to watch parents who attempt to ‘develop' their kids' palate by feeding them oddball foods at a young age. Those same kids skip the veggie trays and devour chicken nuggets and fries at birthday parties when their parents aren't around."
"My brother and his wife are having their first kid in a few months. It'll be interesting to see how they deal with stuff like that."
As we ate, he talked about his family. Made me happy to hear he was close with his siblings as well as his cousins. For as different as Martin and I were personality-wise, we'd made a point to stay close and I counted him as one of my best friends.
"So did you have the idyllic life growing up in a Minnesota apple orchard? Or were you one of those who couldn't wait to peel out as soon as you turned eighteen?"
I groaned. "Peel out? Seriously?"
He laughed. "I love puns and that was sort of a gimme."
"True. But no more," I warned.
"Damn. Next one lined up was to ask if you were the apple of your daddy's eye." He smirked. "Yeah, I know, I'm the guy who always reaches for the low-hanging fruit."
I held up my hand. "Lund. Stop."
"I'm done. Answer the question."
"I had a great childhood. My parents are awesome. They never pushed me to do anything except my best. Sounds clichéd but it's true. Dad inherited the farm from his grandfather and their orchards were certified organic-before it was cool to focus on organic farming methods. So we were raised left of center but we weren't ostracized for it. My folks never expected me to stick around, but I wouldn't be surprised if when Martin decides to settle down he goes back there and takes over for my dad."