Blind-Date Bride. Jillian Hart

She twisted in the seat, peering over the headrest at him.

      “You aren’t saying no?” He wanted to be sure he got that right.

      “I’m not saying no. It’s tempting.” She settled back against the seat as the truck ambled through the intersection. “But I have a fondness for pepperoni.”

      Now he had to like her. He had a weakness for pepperoni—and nothing else. “How much longer do you have to go car-less?”

      “The insurance company says they will issue a check next week, but you know how that goes.”

      “Do I.” He buckled in but couldn’t relax. He felt on edge, but not in a bad way. Brianna was the reason. Everything about her drew him in, from the melting snow glistening like diamonds in her golden hair, to her sweet lilac scent, to the sound of her whispering sigh as she held her hands up to the heater vent, as if grateful.