After the argument with her dad, Lucy sulked on the porch until the driving school sedan pulled up. The man her father had arranged to be her driving instructor climbed out of the car as she approached the vehicle—and stopped in her tracks.

The most gorgeous man she’d ever seen stared at her, causing her breath to catch in her throat. Whatever she’d expected him to be, it wasn’t this. Young. Tall. Drop-dead handsome. Seriously under-challenged hormones kicked in with a bang.

He looked athletic but not football hefty. More likely a runner, lanky and lean, though not skinny. His arms were well tanned and nicely muscled. Dark brown hair, neatly cut, framed an oval face equally tanned. With character lines hinting at maturity, his face was highlighted by a straight nose matching a strong chin.

And his eyes! Huge. Jade green. Smiling. Wake up Lucy. This is not a dream, just your dream man. His wonderfully expressive lips were moving...

            “Hello,” Dream Man’s voice rumbled. “Is this the Fox residence?”

            Dream Man can talk. Nice voice. Lucy pried her tongue loose and stuttered, “Yes, we’re the Foxes.”

            “I’m Mr. Hill. I believe your sister is supposed to learn to drive today.”

            “My sister?” All feelings of lust stalled. “No, she already knows how to drive.”

            “She does? There must be some mistake.”

            The reality of the situation hit Lucy like a dash of cold water. “No, Mr. Hill, there’s no mistake. I’m the one who needs her license.”

            “Oh. Then you must be Lucy.” His face colored as he said, “I’m sorry.”

            “So am I.”

            “I meant...” he mumbled haltingly, “…I’d assumed you’d be younger.”

            Lucy broke the tension by laughing softly. “Mr. Hill, really, I understand. You no doubt expected another giggly teenager.”

            “Yeah.” A gorgeous smile broke through the clouds of his facial muscles. Her lusty inklings resumed as he closed the clipboard he’d been carrying and said, “Well, then, we’d best get started. Come on and buckle in.”

            She forced her attention away from his kissable lips. Why am I thinking that about his lips? “You want me to drive? Now?”

            “Sure. Why?”

            “I thought you’d drive first, you know, to demonstrate what you want me to do.”

            “No need for that, Miss Fox. It is Miss, isn’t it?”

            “Yes, I’m single. Well, if you say so.”

            “I do.” His smile sent her heart fluttering again.

            She got in, adjusted the driver’s seat, and fastened her seat belt. When he was buckled in, she keyed the ignition, dropped the transmission lever into drive, and tapped the accelerator. The car moved smartly forward a short distance until a little dog ran out in front of them. She yanked the steering wheel to the right. The auto, obedient and responsive, went right—right over the curb into the flowers and the mailbox.

“See why I need help?” She turned to face the startled man beside her.

“Help?” He muttered. “You need an overhaul. Why didn’t you hit the brake?”

            “The brake? Oh! I didn’t think...” 

            He unbuckled and climbed out of the no longer pristine sedan. After surveying the damage he stared in at her. “Well, it doesn’t look quite so bad from out here. Would you like to get out and see what you’ve done, Miss Fox?”

            “I don’t need to get out. I can see it from in here.”

            “The mailbox, yes. But if you’re going to extricate the car from the flower bed, you’ll want to take a look at where the wheels are sitting at the moment.” He added, “Unless you’d rather I do it.”

            “Oh, no. If I’m going to have to drive one of these things, I’ll need the experience, I’m sure.”

            “I hope this isn’t the kind of experience you’re likely to repeat. Destroying mailboxes is a Federal offense.”

            “I didn’t destroy the mailbox, Mr. Hill. I can see it perfectly well, sitting right there on the hood. Besides, you grabbed the wheel and tried to turn it.” He bristled.

It had happened so quickly—first the dog running in front of the car and the way she’d spun the wheel to miss it. Then they were aiming at her neighbor’s streetside flowerbed. When she froze despite his barked order to brake, he’d tried a desperate move, one that had almost worked. She couldn’t fault him for that, could she?

“Whoever heard of putting a mailbox in a flower bed, anyway?” she asked.

            “The more appropriate question, Miss Fox, is whoever heard of putting a car in a flower bed?”

            “I suppose you’re right. But I thought your job was to protect me. The Ultimate Driving School promised I’d be safe and secure while learning to drive.”

            “So we did. What we’ve just experienced is an anomaly. Generally, we don’t have dogs dashing in front of us. Nor do we normally expect our drivers to engage every control but the one that counts. Sorry, Miss Fox, but that was pretty dumb.”

“Dumb? You think I’m dumb?”

Tears of frustration dribbled down her cheeks as details of what prompted this situation flooded her mind. Her father insisting she take driving lessons to get her license, accompanied by little sister Natalie’s assuring her it was a piece of cake. Then when she still balked, he’d made the call, setting up this afternoon from hell.

Now she’d made a total fool of herself in the space of five minutes. Why couldn’t they just leave her alone? If she’d wanted to drive, she’d have done it a decade ago. She glared silently at the man who’d given his assessment of her intellectual capacity.

When her face crinkled into an angry scowl, he said, “Miss Fox? Please don’t be angry. I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s not really that big a deal.”

            “I’m not dumb, Mr. Hill. For your information, I happen to be a professional accountant. A very good one. Besides, this is not something I wanted to do. Driving has never appealed to me. My father insists I get my license so this is all his big idea, though I am sorry for the trouble I’ve caused.”

            He laughed and said, “I wish this was the extent of the trouble I’ve seen. No, Miss Fox, you don’t need to apologize.” His amused twinkle defused her anger.

“Call me Lucy, Mr. Hill. I have a feeling we’ll be around each other a lot before I get the hang of this.”

“Lucy, it is. And you can call me Thom. With an H in it.”

            “T-H-O-M? That’s unusual.”

            “Now then, why don’t you climb out and I’ll put the car back onto the street. We’ll give it another try, hopefully with no dogs crossing our path this time.”

            “Okay, Thom with an H in it,” she growled. “I’m ready to try it again.”