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There was a gorgeous man in a cable knit sweater rolled up to reveal muscle-corded forearms. Expensive-looking slacks. Even more expensive-looking shoes.

It was Will.

I pulled the coat around me like a shield, picking my way through the soggy snow toward him.

He didn’t hear me coming until I was a few feet away, and when he turned, it was fast, like he’d been caught off-guard.

“Michelle.”

I couldn’t help it—I laughed. “What, are you surprised to see me?”

Was it my imagination, or had he given me a once-over? Really? In this parka? I pulled it tight.

His eyes went to my lips, and I was hard-pressed not to raise a hand to them, to see if that was really what he was looking at.

“Those aren’t exactly snow boots,” he said, eyeing my stylish ankle boots.

Irritation flickered inside of me. “Neither are those,” I said, eyeing his Italian loafers. I brought my hands to my hips.

Cold air brushed against my décolletage. I’d let my coat fall open.

His eyes were definitely on me. He flicked them away, abruptly turning and going back to hooking up the car.

“I came from work,” he said, not taking the bait.

I softened. “I could have waited until the garage could do it.”

“How long have you gone without a car?”

I hesitated. “Three days.”

“Four, isn’t it?”

But of course he knew how long it had been—he’d been with me the last time I drove it. Into the ditch.

“Why did you ask if you already knew the answer?” I asked.

He ignored me. “You’re stubborn,” he said. “Anyone ever tell you that?”

Yes.

“I didn’t need the car until now,” I said, defensively. He worked for a moment more, then turned around, rubbing his hands with a rag he’d pulled out of nowhere. His hands were gorgeous, I noted. He had long fingers. Skilled fingers. I wondered what else they could do.

“But… thank you,” I said quickly, trying to get my mind away from those dangerous thoughts.

“You didn’t have to come yourself.”

His eyes met mine. “I wanted to,” he said.

There’d been no hesitation there.

Something inside me went slippery. This man could say the most innocuous things and it just… did something to me. It was unnerving.

“Doesn’t that take special training or something?” I asked, walking around as if I was inspecting his work.

“I worked at the garage all through high school. They haven’t upgraded the truck or I’d be lost. Truck’s as old as dirt, just like me.” He hooked up the lights.

“You’re not old,” I said. “What are you, forty-eight? Fifty?”