Clad in jeans, her comfiest flats and an oft-worn jacket, she felt casual enough for a day at Donovan’s garage. A day of web-surfing, anyway. She carried her laptop bag at her side as she stepped into the kitchen. “Okay.” Donovan wore old jeans and a black thermal shirt that clung to his shoulders and pecs in a way that could’ve stopped traffic. He made the simplest things look amazing – he always had. “We’ll get an early start, maybe head home by four or five. I can bring you home before then, around lunchtime, if you want.” She shook her head. “I’m fine with spending the day at the garage.” No way was she going to lounge around zoning out in front of daytime programming again. “I have plenty of job hunting to keep me busy – after all, that’s why I came to Willow Heights.” “Suit yourself.” He pulled on a work-worn jacket. “We’ll go out for lunch, then.” Go out. His words settled in the pit of her chest and made her skin tingle. What was she, fifteen?
