Dylan smiled. "Actually, yes. Since you already know where I work, meet me there at one tomorrow and we'll go."
"I'll be there."
She surprised him when she rose up on her toes and gave him a quick kiss.
"I'll see you tomorrow. I had fun."
"Me, too," he managed to answer.
She stepped back and climbed into her car. He didn't move again until she drove off. Mostly because he didn't trust himself not to go after her and kiss her again.
ChapterEight
Three days later, Dylan pulled up in front of Clay's house. She sat in the car and stared at it in surprise.
She expected something basic, maybe even a little utilitarian, but instead she'd found an Arts and Crafts cottage with beautiful stained glass detailing on the windows and door and a long front porch that wrapped around one side of the house.
The yard was neat and there were several bushes around the house. A large tree graced one corner and when the leaves came out in the spring, it would likely shade the entire yard.
As she studied the house, she realized it could have been out of a fairytale, which was amusing since several fairytales included trolls.
Smiling, she turned off the car, grabbed her things, and climbed out. Immediately, she heard some sort of power tool whining and the thump of an air compressor. Clay must already be in his workshop.
She walked down the driveway until it curved toward the rear of the house. The garage was to her left and, behind that, a gorgeous backyard greeted her. There was a fire pit off to one side, surrounded by five Adirondack chairs, another large tree—this one with low, crooked limbs perfect for climbing, and a big wooden building that resembled the house with its shape and trim. There was no stained glass in the windows, but they were approximately the same shape and size as the ones on the house.
The sliding doors were open to reveal a well-lit interior with tools organized on brackets on the walls or on shelves and several tables topped with saws, presses, and even a couple of half-finished projects.
Clay was bent over one of the tables, sanding what looked like one of the rockers for the toy he was making his nephew. He wore a flannel shirt over a pair of jeans and work boots. What made her mouth water though was the fact that he had his sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms. She'd never obsessed over a man's forearms before, but there was a first time for everything and a very good reason to start now.
Maybe it was because he worked with his hands so much, but the sinewy movements of his muscles beneath his skin was nearly mesmerizing.
Without thinking, Dylan grabbed her phone and took a picture of him. He couldn't have heard the click of the phone over the whir of the sander, the air compressor, or the music he had blasting, but his head popped up anyway.
She would have smiled at the sight of him wearing clear safety glasses if it wasn't for the fact that he'd almost caught her drooling over his forearms like some sort of idiot.
He grinned and shut off the sander. The air compressor followed suit, leaving only the pounding drums of the rock blaring from the radio. After a quick flick of his finger over the screen of his phone, even that stopped.
The sudden silence was disconcerting.
"Hey," he said in greeting. "You're early."
She nodded, her mouth dry. When his eyes drifted to her phone, she shrugged and said, "I took a picture of you working. It'll be a good profile pic for your Instagram."
She didn't mention that it would also be her lock screen starting tonight.
Clay walked over to her and bent down to kiss her. She caught the scent of sawdust and soap and fought the urge to sniff him like a lovesick puppy.
"Still working on the rocker?" she asked him when he lifted his head. She tried not to be disappointed that he kept the kiss short and casual.
He'd mentioned it at their lunch on Thursday and again last night when he'd called her to find out how the book signing went. It seemed the details were still frustrating him.
"I think I figured it out. It's just going to take a little time to make it work."
"I'd like to see."
He pulled off the safety glasses and tucked them into his shirt pocket. "Sure."
Clay led her to the table. As she drew closer, she saw the shape of the dragon sitting on the surface behind Clay, standing on four legs rather than rockers.
