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He doesn’t move from his lean. “Nope.”

The blonde offers a breezy, apologetic smile. “Sorry! That’s me. I was just dropping something off.”

“Right.”

She slips around to the driver’s side while Zander stays put, his eyes still pinned to me. I start up the porch steps.

“Good day?” he asks.

“Terrific.”

“Mine too.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“That’s the beauty of small talk,” he says easily. “Sometimes people just offer.”

I adjust my grip on the grocery bags as the SUV’s engine turns over. The blonde lowers her window and calls out, “Text me later?”

“I will.”

Naturally.

Her gaze flicks toward me once before she gets inside, and I turn to unlock my door.

Behind me, Zander says, “You seem disappointed.”

I look back. He’s smiling, which immediately tells me I’m not going to like where this is headed.

“About what?”

He nods toward the departing SUV. “Thought maybe you were wondering who she was.”

“I was wondering why she parked in my space.”

“Nothing else?”

“No.”

His eyes narrow slightly with amusement. “Not even a little curious?”

“About your social calendar?”

“Could be fascinating.”

“I’m sure you think so.”

His smile widens. There’s something deeply irritating about a man who already knows he’s attractive, especially when he happens to be right.

“Did you practice being this prickly all day at work?” he asks.

“No. It’s an involuntary reflex whenever you’re within ten feet.”

“No. It comes naturally around you.”

“I’m flattered.”

“You shouldn’t be.”