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the small of her back to lead her toward his car. They’d taken no more than a few steps when she suddenly stopped.
    “What’s wrong?” he asked.
    “You have a Mustang Fastback?” she asked with awe in her voice.
    It pleased him that she recognized the model. “I do.”
    She hurried over to the hood of the car. “V8 289?”
    “V8 302.”
    “What year?”
    “Sixty-five.”
    She slowly ran her hand over the smooth, black surface, similar to the way a woman would touch her lover’s skin. Stephen swallowed at the mental image of her stroking him instead of the car. “How do you know the model?”
    “My best friend’s brother had one, only it was a 289 engine. It sat in the garage more than he drove it. There was always something wrong with it. I think he tinkered more than repaired.” Still touching the car, she looked at him. “All original?”
    “Most of it. It took Dusty and me months to get the necessary parts because I wanted as much of it original as possible. The carpet isn’t original, but it still has the AM radio. And it works.” He walked over to her, leaned against the side of the Mustang. “Then he bought a fifty-seven T-Bird in February for us to repair. Our roofing business keeps us busy, but we hope to have the car finished by the end of summer.”
    “Will it be black, too?”
    “Nope. Candy-apple red. Dusty has a thing for red cars.” He leaned closer to her and lowered his voice. “Want to drive it?”
    She bit her bottom lip, but he could still see her grin as she nodded.
    “Can you drive a stick shift?”
    “Yes.”
    He dug the keys out of his pocket, dangled them in front of her. “Then let’s go.”
    With a squeal of delight, she grabbed the keys and hurried to the driver’s side door. Chuckling, Stephen rounded the car to the passenger side and settled into the seat. He’d suspected his date with Julia would be fun, but he had the feeling it would far surpass his expectations.
     
    The inside of Stephen’s car smelled like leather mixed with the clean scent of the woodsy soap he must use. She hadn’t noticed the scent on the way to the restaurant because she’d been so excited to drive the classic muscle car. Now, in the dark and quiet, the combination of masculine smells made desire curl in her stomach.
    Julia didn’t think more than five minutes passed the entire evening without her smiling. She couldn’t remember ever enjoying a date more. There hadn’t been any of those dreaded dead moments of a first date when she had no idea what to say. Conversation had flowed easily and steadily between them, almost as if they’d known each other for years instead of only a couple of days.
    She looked down at the Styrofoam container sitting on her lap. She’d had to try the bread pudding drizzled with caramel sauce, but hadn’t been able to eat more than a bite after the amazing dinner of honey citrus pork chops. Stephen had polished off all of his turtle cheesecake despite the huge slice of prime rib he’d eaten and teased her about stealing her bread pudding. She’d teased right back that he wasn’t getting one bite of her dessert.
    She wondered if she should invite him in for coffee and to share the rest of her dessert. If she did that, they could easily end up in her bed. After the kiss he’d given her last night, she had no doubt he wanted her. Plus, she saw awareness in his eyes every time he looked at her.
    She’d never slept with a man after one date . . . not only because of morals, but because it usually took her a few dates to get to know a guy before she wanted that special closeness with him. With Stephen, she’d felt that closeness almost from the moment she’d seen him at Burger King two days ago.
    “Did you enjoy your meal?” he asked.
    “Very much. The food was amazing.”
    He glanced at the container on her lap. “Still hoarding your bread pudding, I see.”
    The dim light from the dash let her see his lips quirk. His teasing helped her make the