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later, she found him standing
outside the garage doors. His back was to her and he rocked on his
heels. From behind, he created one hell of a picture. His shoulders
were broad, his legs long, his ass a thing of beauty.
    She'd given being cordial a try, and the
heat and frequency of their arguments had lessened. They’d
progressed to having disagreements, which were a different
animal.
    She hated to admit Peyton had been right.
She hated to admit she liked him, in a general
he's-not-a-crappy-human kind of way. And, okay, he was very
attractive, in an every-sense kind of way. And, he made
her-heart-pitter-patter kind of way, too.
    Most of that could be attributed to him
wearing jeans instead of slacks lately. More than likely because
they'd spent a lot of time with each other over the last week. Most
of that was either meeting up at her shop or getting into her tow
truck or standing in a middle of a field looking at a junker.
    It was a lot of time for her to see him in
an appealing light that made her forget he could be chauvinistic.
Something she found hard to keep at the forefront of her mind when
with him.
    She sighed and led the way. They stopped
long enough to get his laptop out of his car before settling onto
one of the benches in the town square. Tom had cut the acre of
grass that edged the center of town, and it smelled wonderful—like
the beginning of summer.
    Brooke took out her sandwich, broke off a
piece, and chucked it near the statue of the town's founder. The
pigeon that had been propped on his head flew down to eat it.
Finally, she turned to Dane and waited for the big reveal.
    He looked amused at her ritual and shook his
head.
    “ We have eight,” he
announced and moved the computer so she could see the
screen.
    Around a mouthful of ham and cheese, she put
a hand up to her lips and asked him to scroll down. The owners had
taken pictures of both the exteriors and interiors. From the looks
of them, they were in no worse condition than all the rest of the
cars.
    She swallowed. “I need to see them.”
    “ You can take the road trip
without me. Have you hit up your contact yet?”
    She hadn't. Her brother was the very, very
last resort. “Not until I know for sure we're tapped out. Go back
to the last one and zoom in on the engine.”
    He shifted closer and did as she asked. His
scent distracted her for a moment. He smelled...masculine. That was
the best way to describe the scent. He smelled like a man filled
with testosterone, and the fragrance was delicious for that simple
fact. She hummed and bit into her sandwich, refusing to look
directly at him until the urge to bite him instead died down.
    She pointed at what looked to be a spider
web of cracks on the engine. “We have seven. Unless we're going to
spend the next ten years doing this, I don't have time to order a
slew of new engines. That one is shit. Who gave you this?”
    “ A friend of mine, but he
knows nothing about cars.” Dane sighed, putting his back against
the bench. “I hate this. Why did we say calendar?”
    She laughed. “It could have been a bachelor
calendar. Now, that would be hell trying to put together.”
    “ Huh.”
    He didn't sound entirely against the idea.
She frowned at him. “What?”
    “ Not a bad
idea.”
    “ What?” her voice was
louder.
    He laughed and closed his laptop. “Think
about it. We'll have a calendar for the men and one for the
women.”
    The sandwich turned to dust in her mouth.
“Yeah. 'Cause women aren't into cars.”
    He glared at her. “You're trying to tell me
you'd walk right past a calendar filled with half-naked men?”
    Brooke would be on it like flies on shit,
but she'd have the same reaction with a muscle car calendar.
“You're so sexist.”
    “ I like to think I'm a
realist. A good majority of people who'd buy the car calendar will
be men. Half-naked men? Women.”
    She scoffed. “How would we know what sells
better?”
    “ Do a survey?” He shrugged.
“I'm sure it'll be simple