A very big, very solid, very real man.
Hard muscle.
Warm body.
And holy shit, he smells good.
Something clean and expensive with just enough edge to make my brain short-circuit for a second.
I jerk forward like I’ve been zapped, spinning around so fast I nearly take the trunk lid with me.
“What the?—”
The words die in my throat.
Because of course.
Of course the universe would do this to me today.
He’s tall.
Like, unfairly tall.
Broad shoulders filling out a simple black T-shirt like it was designed specifically for him.
Tattoos snake down both arms, disappearing beneath the sleeves, and his jaw is sharp enough to cut glass.
Impossibly dark eyes lock on mine.
He looks amused.
Definitely amused.
And I realize two things at once.
One—I am no closer to having the big ass baby shower gift I brought out of my car.
And two—I just full-on backed my ass into this man in the middle of Adrianna’s driveway.
“Uh…” I blink. “It’s… Hilary.”
A beat.
“Not Linda.”
His mouth curves, slow and wicked, like he’s in on a joke I definitely wasn’t invited to.
“Good to know,” he says easily. “But I didn’t call you Linda. I said linda.”
I stare at him.
“Um. Okay, I’m gonna need you to translate, Hot Stranger, because right now that just sounds like the same word with attitude.”
That grin deepens.
“It’s Spanish,” he says. “Means pretty.”
Oh.