"Zane was waiting for her at the base of the stairs. She stopped on the last step so that when he turned toward her, they were eye to eye. "I'm sorry I didn't bring anything dressier," she said. She'd changed into white jeans and a pale, dusty purple top with an embellished scoop neckline. His gaze traveled to her feet and back to her face. She thought maybe she read masculine appreciation in his raised brows. "You're fine," he said. So much for any appreciation. On his part, at least. "Give me a moment while I bask in the glory," she murmured and stepped past him to the front porch and then down toward his truck. Zane got there ahead of her. A neat trick explained by his much longer stride. He towered over her. He'd changed clothes, too, into dark blue jeans and a fitted white T-shirt that showcased his hard-earned muscles. His dark hair was still damp. An image flashed through her mind of him in the shower, water running over his broad shoulders. He opened the door for her, then helped her into the truck. The masculine scent of his soap and shampoo wafted toward her as he climbed in beside her, making her limbs melt into the leather seat. This felt like a date. It wasn't, but still. Phoebe sighed. Maya had promised her a distraction, and Zane was certainly that. Too bad he didn't seem to like her one bit."