Sam checked the timer on the chicken, lifted the lid on the pot of sauce, and grabbed a glass for her water. "Do you want ice?"
So far so good. He grinned, perhaps flushing just a little bit when she mentioned that it smelled good, "Thanks. Should be pretty good. I've made this a couple times." Something safe that would probably turn out, had kind of been what he'd been going for, after all. "You can sit down, if you want." He gestured to the barstools at the island counter in the middle of the kitchen.