He grunted. “You ready?” “Ready for what?” “For me to ask you to dinner yet.” Her pulse tripped all over itself. Got up. Tripped again. “Did you think you needed to build a pergola to convince me?” “No. I, uh …” He tossed down the rag, shoved his hands into his pockets. “I needed something to keep me busy while I worked up the nerve to ask.”
