“Yes, a pie.” She thrust it forward until he took it, then held out a worn five-dollar bill.

“You’re paying me to eat your pie?”

“Of course not. I’m paying you-” She stopped and drew in a breath. She’d gone from grateful to annoyed in two seconds flat. “You bought me a tire. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice that bright, shiny bit of rubber? Is it me in particular or all women in general? Because I know this is a guy thing. You wouldn’t have done this if I were a man.”

“You wouldn’t have needed my help if you were a man.”

“Maybe.” Probably. But that wasn’t the point. “You slunk back here and put on the tire while I wasn’t looking. You even rubbed dirt on it so it wouldn’t look so new. And let me tell you, that’s just strange.”

He actually smiled. It was slight-no teeth, but somehow the action made him look open and approachable. “That was Randy’s idea.”

“It sounds like him.”

He took a step back. “Want to come in and talk about this or do you prefer my porch?”

“The porch is fine. This isn’t a social call.”

The smile faded. “Elissa, I get it. You don’t like that I bought you a tire. Yours had so many patches, it was dangerous. I should have let it go, but I couldn’t. I’m not going to apologize for what I did. I didn’t mean anything by it. I don’t want anything.” He held up the pie. “Except this. It smells good.”

She liked that he wasn’t using her tire against her. Gee, how many times had she been able to say that before in her life?

“I know you thought you were doing a good thing,” she said slowly. “But you don’t have the right to meddle in my life. I called Randy to find out what it cost. I think he lowballed me by about ten bucks, so I’ll be paying you back fifty dollars. It’s going to take me some time, but the pie is to show I’m sincere about it and here’s the first payment.”