"You know that stuff will kill you, right?"

Seth looked up from his squatted position in front of the numerous jars of premade spaghetti sauce to see a long set of jean clad legs standing beside him. He followed the well muscled legs all the way up past a flat abdomen and wide muscular chest to the sexiest chiseled face he'd ever laid eyes on. There was even a hint of dark stubble on the man's square jaw.

Seth cocked an eyebrow at the man as he looked up at him. "You have something better in mind?"

"I might," the man said and then he grinned, his face showing off the most delicious looking dimples, one on each cheek.

Seth flushed when the sudden ache to lick those dimples almost overcame his common sense. The man that stood before him was very obviously fit. While Seth could hold his own in most situations, this guy could probably wipe the floor with him.

Seth knew he needed to tread carefully. The invitation seemed to be there in the man's sparkling blue eyes but Seth had been wrong before and paid the price in bruises and sore muscles. The man might not even be gay.

The stranger held out his hand. "The name's Frank, Frank De Luca."

Seth took the man's hand, standing to his feet. He shook it for a moment then let it go, wishing he didn't have to. "Seth O'Connal."

Frank gestured to the jar of premade spaghetti sauce Seth had been looking at moments before. "Do you always eat processed food? Homemade is so much better."

"I do if I don't want to poison myself." Seth chuckled. "I'm not much of a cook."

"Not good with your hands?"

Seth knew there had to be a hidden message in those words. Okay, he hoped there was a hidden message in those words. "I'm good with my hands, very good in fact, just not in the kitchen."

One dark eyebrow arched and then the dimples came back as Frank smiled again. "Just what can you do with your hands then?"

Seth was ready to come in his jeans right where he stood. The most gorgeous man in the universe was coming on to him. There just couldn't be any other explanation. The signals the guy threw out were too well placed.

"I can do a lot of things with my hands. I just can't cook," Seth replied. "Can you?"

"Oh, I'm very good in the kitchen," Frank replied. Seth felt the man's eyes move down his body like a scorching heat. He was growing hard right there in aisle eight of the supermarket. "I like handling hot stuff."

Seth almost groaned. He only stopped himself by biting his lower lip. A moment later he wasn't so lucky when Frank reached out and rubbed his thumb across Seth's caught lip until he let go of it.

"Now, if you go and hurt your lip how are you going to be able to enjoy my homemade spaghetti sauce?" Frank asked.

Frank's touch was feathery light but Seth felt it all of the way down to his toes. "You're homemade spaghetti sauce?" he whispered huskily. "Am I going to be eating your homemade spaghetti sauce?"

"I certainly hope so."

"Wh-When?" Seth felt like a goober, unable to put a simple word together but all he could think of was the way that Frank's thumb felt on his lower lip. He wanted to feel it on other parts of his body.

"Tomorrow night?" Frank asked. "Eight o'clock sharp?"

"Your place or mine?"

"That’s up to you," Frank said. "Do you have a cell phone?"

Seth nodded and dug into his pocket. He handed it over when Frank reached for it, watching mesmerized as Frank punched in a bunch of buttons. When Frank stepped closer as he handed it back, his phone number was typed in along with his name.

"Call me and we can make arrangements."

Seth nodded again. He was having a very hard time thinking clearly. Frank's cologne surrounded him and it smelled wonderful. Seth could just smell an underlying scent of masculine musk. It made him ache with need and forget all about eating spaghetti. He wanted something else in his mouth.

"Are you going to call me, Seth?" Frank asked very quietly.

"Are you going to make me spaghetti?" Seth countered.

"I'll make you anything you want."

"Then I'll call."

"I'll be waiting." Frank grinned, sporting his deep dimples once again. The back of his hand brushed the side of Seth's face then quickly fell away before anyone could see. "I want to know what you can do with those hands of yours."

Seth's jaw dropped as he watched Frank walk away. Correction, the world's most perfect ass walked away. A tight rounded ass encased in even tighter blue jeans. Frank was a gay man's wet dream. He'd certainly be in Seth's dreams tonight.