“Well, it’s not a date,” she said smartly.“I just want to take you to dinner as a gesture of thanks.”
“Okay.”
Okay was such a simple word, but Aspen wasn’t naïve enough to think Connor’s ‘okay’ didn’t have much more meaning than he relayed.
“Here, put your phone number in my cell and I’ll text you the address so we can meet there,” Aspen fished her phone from her apron and thrusted it against his chest.
Yep.It was just as hard, just as wide as she remembered.
With the sexy smirk remaining in place, Connor set his tools down once again and entered his contact into Aspen’s phone before handing it back.
“It’s a date.”
It’snota date,” Aspen pressed, sounding more like a schoolmarm.“It’s just dinner.”
“Whatever you say, BB.”
With that declaration, Connor collected his materials and made his way to the bakery’s front door.
Of course Aspen wasn’t checking out his perfect ass and perfect long, thick thighs, all tucked into a pair of perfect jeans.
“Way better than Channing Tatum,” Aspen mumbled under her breath.
Connor stopped at the door and looked over his shoulder.“Channing’s a cool dude, but there’s no comparison with me.Later, BB.”
With that, the door closed and the bells above the frame jangled a soft tune as Connor walked toward his truck.
Aspen laid her head atop the Formica-covered counter with a little more force than necessary.She hoped she knocked a little sense into her crazed, coo-coo for Cocoa Puffs brain.
“Idiot.”
Chapter 7—Wolfe
The shocks on Wolfe’svintage 1976 GMC truck barely absorbed the climb up to his home.He bought the two-story brick home just west of downtown Denver after signing his free-agency deal with the Crush, and took immense pride in every project he completed to restore it and make it his own.
The long squeak of the driver’s side door as it opened announced to no one that Wolfe was home.
