He smelled of his work, which wasn’t nearly as unpleasant as she’d assumed it would be. His jeans had a hole in the knee and grease stains on the thigh. She wondered if he wore a black T-shirt because it wouldn’t show the stains.

His hair was nearly as dark and left to fall any way it chose around his sharply defined face. He hadn’t shaved, she noted, but the result made him look more dangerous than scruffy.

“You’ve got a nice ride.” He jingled her keys in his hand, his eyes on her face when they reached her car. “And you take care of it. We detailed it on us since it’s your first service, but I couldn’t’ve charged you anyway. You keep your baby clean and polished.”

“Tools work better when they’re taken care of.”

“Words to live by Most people don’t. So, what’s after the meeting?”

“Sorry? Oh ... errands, and work.”

“You ever not have meetings, errands, and work?”

“Rarely.” She knew when a man was hitting on her, but couldn’t remember the last time it had flustered her. “I really need those keys.The car won’t start without them.”

He dropped them into her open palm. “If you hit one of those rare times, give me a call. I’ll take you out in my ride.”

While she tried to think of a response, he jerked a thumb. She followed the direction to a big, burly, gleaming motorcycle.

“I don’t think so. I really don’t think so.”

He only smiled. “If you change your mind, you know how to reach me.” He waited a beat while she got into the car. “It’s the first time I’ve seen you with your hair down. It goes with the dress.”

“Um.” Jesus, Parker, she thought, what has tied your tongue into a knot? “Thanks for the work.”

“Back at you.”

She shut the door, turned the key, and with a genuine sense of relief drove away. The man, she decided, just threw her off balance.

IT WAS SILLY, LAUREL TOLD HERSELF, AND HAD TO BE HANDLED. Ignoring Del and his childish game had seemed like a good idea initially, but the more she chewed on it, the more it seemed ignoring it could be construed as avoidance.That gave him the upper hand, which would never do.

She kept her plan—such as it was—to herself. Since she wasn’t needed at rehearsal, it limited contact with her friends, and the temptation to share. She kept to her kitchen, making the cream filling and buttercream frosting for Saturday afternoon’s Summer Strawberry cake. She checked her board and her timing, and tried not to feel guilty about sneaking out of her own house.