I’m a fucking idiot.

Brick went back inside the building center. Callie was at a desk behind the counter. When she saw him enter, she got up and approached the front.

“Was the order all right?”

“Everything was fine,” he said.

Why did he suddenly feel like he was twelve years old, his mouth dry, and nerves on fire? He was completely out of character, and the guys at the club would laugh their asses off if they could see him now.

“Did you want to order something else?”

He ground his teeth together, his jaw clenched. “What time do you get off work?”

“Five. Why?”

“I wanted to thank you for your help. Maybe take you out to dinner or something.”

She remained quiet, and he regretted opening his mouth in the first place.

“Or not,” he said. “It was just an idea.”

“No, I’d love to go to dinner.”

He nodded. “I better drop this shit off and get ready then. I’ll pick you up at five.”

****

Callie was still in a state of shock after the hot guy left. And she hadn’t even asked for his name. It was difficult to think straight when he wasn’t wearing a shirt. His body was golden and ripped like a gladiator. The ink on his arms was unlike anything she’d ever seen. She probably should have refused his offer. He was a classic bad boy, she had no doubt about it. But he didn’t act like an asshole, and for some reason, she felt comfortable around him when she was normally quite shy around men.

It was difficult to focus on work for the rest of the afternoon. None of the men in the yard had shoulders and biceps like her guy. When they’d talked to each other, she’d had to remind herself to make eye contact and not keep checking him out. She liked everything about him, from the gruff tone of his voice to his impossibly dark eyes.

What would he think of the real her?

He’d only seen her from behind the counter. Once he saw her fat ass, he’d probably regret asking her out. She wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans. He was picking her up in a couple of hours, right after work, so she’d have no time to fix herself up. In an ideal situation, she’d take a shower and change into something pretty.

Jeff came in and sat at his desk. “Any new orders?”

“A few online. No more walk-ins.”

“That guy give you any trouble?” Jeff asked. “He looked like trouble.”

“He’s just a chicken farmer. Relax.”

She didn’t want any more questions and didn’t like her mystery man being judged.

“A farmer covered in ink?”

She shrugged.

Honestly, Callie didn’t want to dig deeper. She just wanted to enjoy the moment. He’d asked her out on a date, so she was still on cloud nine.

She’d been so focused on working and surviving that she had little time to worry about herself, her love life, or her future.