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Holly started scraping away, losing her grip on the potato once and barely catching it in time to finish removing the last few strips, shaking with laughter. She set it in the colander and held her hands up for the next one. Declan tossed it to her and started counting.
“Come on, these take fifteen minutes to boil and we’ve still got to cube them up. Mush mush mush!”
“I’m going to take you zip-lining for this,” she threatened, tossing her second potato into the colander.
“Last one,” he said, launching the potato under his leg and up into an arc. Holly was laughing too hard to catch it and Declan wagged his finger at her. “And I don’t think zip-lining in the dead of winter sounds safe.”
“No, we’d wait until spring.” Holly realized how presumptuous she sounded and cleared her throat. “If you’re still in town, I mean.”
Declan’s expression softened for a split-second before he said, “Five seconds.”
She got the potato finished after he made a buzzer sound with his mouth. “Oh, too bad.”
“I don’t like this game,” she grumbled.
“Bonus round! Carefully cut the potatoes into quarters and put them into the pot of water.” Declan handed her the knife, handle first.
Holly grabbed a potato from the colander and put the potato on the board then cried, “Hiya!” slamming the knife down into the potato. Holly grinned at Declan. “Like that?”
“Sure, if you want to end up losing a body part.”
“Maybe I need you to show me,” she teased, holding the knife out handle first.
Declan pursed his lips. “I’m not getting in front of that camera, Holly.”
“You don’t have to.” She slid the cutting board to him with a grin. “Let’s see what you got.”
Declan grabbed the potato and flipped it flat side down, putting his fingers on either side as he slid the knife through the middle. “Hold the potato, cut away from you, and take it easy. Don’t butcher the potato like it’s a piece of meat.” He picked up another potato from the colander and set it and the knife on the cutting board, sliding it back to her. “Try again.”
Holly smirked as she followed his instructions to the letter and his eyes narrowed.
“You played me,” he growled.
“I was just seeing if I could get you to come up behind me and show me how to cut a potato.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve always wanted a hot man to try that move, but I was born after it lost popularity.”
Declan shook his head, setting the last potato down on her cutting board. “You are a trip.”
“Why? Because I think you’re hot?”
Declan rubbed his face where his beard had been slowly returning and turned her way, leaning a hip against the counter. “But you don’t like facial hair.”
She reached up and gave his short beard a gentle tug. “It’s like you.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s growing on me,” she said softly.
Her words struck Declan like a lightning bolt, and he reached up to cup the back of her neck. “Funny, I could say the same thing about you.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Declan saw the cell phone and remembered her camera was still running. Even if that video wasn’t recording, they’d agreed not to cross the line.
Then why was he tempted to obliterate the line and kiss her anyway?
He dropped his hand slowly, his fingertips trailing across her skin and then falling from her shoulder. It wasn’t a good idea until they’d figured out how this living situation was going to work.
