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“So…” she called as he walked away. “Is that a yes for dinner?”
“Depends,” he said cheekily. “When are you wanting to do this dinner?”
“I was thinking tomorrow?”
“I work until eight.”
“Late dinner?”
He searched her eyes, and then nodded once. “I’ll think about it.”
That was kind of a yes, and with a man like him, it was probably the best she could hope for.
Already, she was putting together a menu in her head. From-scratch chicken parmesan over spaghetti. Roasted vegetables. Tomorrow was farmers’ market day in Laramie and she didn’t have clients until noon, so she could swing by and get fresh veggies. She could make key lime pie for dessert!
His truck appeared, hauling a big flatbed trailer, and she had a moment of gratefulness that he knew what he was doing. Wreck just seemed like a man who knew how to handle a situation, and if not, he would figure it out.
She was even more convinced of this as he backed the trailer up to the front end of her car like a pro, with just a few feet to spare, and then came around the back of the truck, grabbed some tow rope out of the bed, dropped down in front of her destroyed car, and found a place to hook it. He dragged the length of tow rope to the front of the trailer, hooked it around a two-foot-long piece of metal, and then did something that shocked her.
That man pulled the rope himself and hauled her car onto the trailer. Just pulled it like it weighed nothing. Like it was a bouquet of dandelions. Just…yank.
What. The. Hell.
He was the strongest man in the world, and no one could convince her otherwise.
She stood there with her mouth hanging open wide enough to catch a bug. He wasn’t even sweating, or acting like it was a big deal.
He glanced at her and looked back to where he was strapping her car onto the trailer, then looked back quick, like he’d just registered her weird expression. “You good?”
“You just lifted a car onto the trailer. With like…your biceps.”
He laughed and looked around, but no one else was out here. “I don’t think about it.”
“What do you do for work?” she asked. “Are you a bulldozer shifter?”
The chuckle that emanated from him warmed her from the inside out. It was so deep and masculine. Today was the first day she’d really heard him laugh. She liked it. Made her feel special that he thought she was funny enough to let his guard down.
“I build fences.”
Okay, that was hot. “I bet you are fantastic about hauling all of your own fence posts.”
His handsome smile lingered, and he nodded as he looped a tie-down through a metal ring on the side of the trailer and secured it. “I don’t have to ask for help,” he admitted.
“Well, I’ve been working out for months, and I can bench-press the bar.”
He tossed his head back and laughed. Hot boy. “Keep working and you’ll be up to fifty-five pounds soon.”
“Being a human is lame,” she muttered.
“It’s way better than being a shifter,” he argued as he secured another tie-down.
“Disagree. You can control fire and lift buildings. I can burn lasagna and trip over my own feet.”
His snickering drew a grin from her. “I thought you said you can cook.”
“Well, I have been defeated by lasagna—the one time I tried to make my grandma’s recipe.”
“I’m suddenly craving lasagna.”
