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“I have to say I’m surprised.”
“Excuse me?”
“You don’t look like you belong in a minivan.”
“I love my Caravan,” she said fiercely, probably because her choice in cars had been questioned by her dad more than once. As she shifted her weight, her feet protested how long she’d spent on the tarmac.
“Me, too. Can I give you a lift to help you find yours?” He edged past her cautiously, giving her plenty of personal space until he took her place in front of the driver’s-side door. “You look like your feet hurt.”
How had he noticed when he hadn’t looked anywhere but her eyes?
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