One Man Rush. Joanne Rock
Pivoting, she stretched up on her toes to see around the lot. Where the heck had she parked?
And why did the guy in the Phantoms’ shirt make her feel so suddenly naked when he didn’t look at her with even the tiniest bit of male interest?
“I have to say I’m surprised.”
“Excuse me?”
“You don’t look like you belong in a minivan.”
“I love my Caravan,” she said fiercely, probably because her choice in cars had been questioned by her dad more than once. As she shifted her weight, her feet protested how long she’d spent on the tarmac.
“Me, too. Can I give you a lift to help you find yours?” He edged past her cautiously, giving her plenty of personal space until he took her place in front of the driver’s-side door. “You look like your feet hurt.”
How had he noticed when he hadn’t looked anywhere but her eyes?
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