Not that she cared if he was dating-she didn’t. But showing up with a pie and five bucks was weird enough to explain to him, without having to deal with a significant other hovering. Not that any woman Walker dated was likely to consider her much of a threat. Elissa knew exactly what she looked like-the wholesome girl next door. She didn’t mind. Her appearance meant her customers were far more likely to be protective than to come on to her, which made life a whole lot easier.

“Procrastinate much?” she asked herself as she forced her brain back to the task at hand. Namely, standing at the top of Walker’s stairs, inches from his front door. If he’d heard her climbing, he could be watching her right now, wondering why she’d come this far without knocking.

So she knocked, then waited until the door opened and he stood there, right in front of her.

He looked good. His T-shirt stretched across broad shoulders and a muscular chest. No doubt those muscles were the reason he’d been able to twist her lug nuts into submission without breaking a sweat. His jeans were worn, loose and faded. His dark eyes seemed expressionless, but not in a scary ax-murderer way. More like he kept the world at bay.

“Hi,” she said, when he remained silent. “I, ah, made pie.” She thrust it toward him and added, “It’s blueberry,” in case his confusion about the type of fruit was the reason he didn’t take it from her.

“You made me a pie?” he asked, his voice low. There was a hint of a question in the rumble, and more than a hint that he thought she was crazy, which she resented. She wasn’t the one breaking the rules here.