“You could crack a walnut on those biceps.”
“Millie!” Andy glanced from the window to the woman sitting next to her, but the older woman blinked her eyes in mock innocence.
“What? You know you could. Bet he could carry the weight of the world on those shoulders without getting a hump.” She cut her gaze in Andy’s direction as she took a sip of her coffee. “I’m just saying is all.”
Andy didn’t want to think of what the man striding toward them could carry. Or what he could crack with his arms. At least not until he was headed away from her porch instead of toward it. His long legs ate up the ground and in a fraction of a second, he’d reached the house. Andy jumped up before he had a chance to knock, and almost bumped into Millie on her way to the door.
“I’ll get it. You sit down.”
“No way,” said the older woman, heading toward the pantry. “You invite him in. I’m going to get more zucchini bread.”
“We don’t even know who he is or what he wants,” said Andy, pushing back against the image of the giant of a man in her kitchen, taking up more than his fair share of space.
“I know what I want,” said Millie. “I want to keep him.”
