“Exactly! What kind of plumber has pristine nails?” “A smart one.”

“Exactly what was wrong with her? And could she pass it on to any children she may have?”

“Okay. Let's see what we've got." He lifted up her foot and said, "Well, what we've got here is a freakin' boat."Really?" She slammed her heel against the side of his face, snapping his head to one side. "How big are they now, Mitch?"Rubbing the abused side of his face, "Dainty little elf feet?""Exactly.”

“And wow…was that a lot of perfection to look at. Seven feet and three hundred and fifty pounds of perfection. While most guys—most guys being her brother, cousins, and uncles—would be lapping this up—pocketing numbers, getting girls to strip, and playing “who can get my kilt to rise”—Lock looked more like a bear cub cornered by hungry grizzly males. But what exactly did he expect in that outfit? She didn’t want to imply he was asking for it but…he kind of was!”

“He should hate those nails. He normally considered that sort of thing tacky or gaudy, but damn if that look didn’t work on her. And because it worked on her —it was really working on him.”

“Understand?”“Sure.”“Good.”“’Cause I always love a challenge.”He’d caught her with that when she was halfway in the cab. With one foot in and the other still braced against the curb, she stared at him. “What challenge?”“You’re challenging me to get you back into my life.”“No, I’m not.”“Your exact words were ‘I challenge you, Bobby Ray Smith, to get me back into your life.’”“I never said that.”“That’s what I heard.” The beauty of wolf hearing. You heard only what you wanted to, made up what was never said but should have been, and the rest meant little or nothing.”

“He mockingly gave her the raised eyebrow back. "You never gave me an answer.""Yeah. I did. In fact, my exact words were 'no'.""Yes, but I've chosen to ignore that until I hear what I want.”