“Brew Magic isn’t even open yet. Why do they start this thing so damn early?” he grumbled unhappily.
“Having withdrawals? I’m sure you have a coffeemaker at your house.” Already having set up her jars and containers for sale, she reached down for her thermos on the ground and straightened back up again, deciding to fill her own cup standing up this time. Honestly, she was having caffeine withdrawal, so she understood needing a cup of coffee. She’d been running late this morning and had skipped breakfast and coffee.
“The damn thing hates me,” he rumbled, as though his coffeemaker had a personal vendetta against him. “My old one took a crap, and I bought one that’s supposed to be top-of-the-line. I end up with half a cup of coffee grounds in my cup.”
“Did you read the instructions?”
Jared shrugged. “Why? How hard can it be to make coffee? It must be defective.”
Just like a man, he obviously didn’t believe he needed directions. “It might help,” she suggested lightly. She very much doubted the coffeemaker personally disliked Jared. It was more likely that Jared was impatient with the coffeemaker. “It’s better than having withdrawals.”
She knew it didn’t escape Jared’s notice that she was pouring her coffee in an upright position, and he smirked evilly as he watched her. “Now I’m definitely having withdrawals,” he rasped. “Putting that gorgeous ass in the air can definitely give a man a lot of fantasies.”
“I didn’t know you were there,” Mara answered defensively. Her ass was hardly her best feature, and she wouldn’t have put it on display had she known anybody was behind her.
Jared crossed his arms in front of him, his coffee balanced in his right hand. “I know you were unaware that I was behind you. That just made the possibilities that much more tempting.”
No doubt it made a large target for just about anything. My butt is too big, and I’m pretty doubtful that my old Patriots T-shirt and cut-off blue jean shorts are a major turn-on.
It had been so early when she was loading her battered pickup truck that she hadn’t bothered with any makeup, and her hair was barely tamed in a clip behind her head.
Oh yeah, I’m definitely a real seductress. No wonder he wants me.
She rolled her eyes at him, letting him know she wasn’t going to engage in his flirtation. “Do those sorts of compliments usually work for you?”
He raised a quizzical brow. “For what?”
Mara shrugged and averted her eyes, concentrating on arranging her jars and cutting up homemade bread and placing it into airtight containers. “Pickup lines.”
“I wouldn’t know,” he informed her harshly. “I don’t usually bother. The only thing women want from me is money.”
Startled, she turned her head and openly gaped at him. “You don’t really believe that.”
Amazingly, Mara could tell from the look in Jared’s momentarily expressive eyes that he not only believed it but was completely convinced that women were only after his money.
“What else would they want?” He shrugged as though he was resigned to the fact that he was pursued for monetary reasons only.
Okay, the man is either blind, or he doesn’t look into the mirror every morning. This nearly flawless specimen of masculine perfection is actually insecure? “There are other things,” she muttered quietly. Somebody had hurt him, rejected him. It was the only reason Mara could think of that he wasn’t conceited about his appearance.
“What?” he questioned in a low, velvety baritone.
Seriously? Jared Sinclair didn’t know he was hot enough to melt a woman’s panties with a glance? Since yesterday, when those amazing green eyes had begun to actually show some of his emotions, he’d become nearly irresistible to her. “Everything,” she admitted in a husky whisper, unable to keep her eyes from moving over him hungrily. “You’re every woman’s fantasy. Not only are you drop-dead gorgeous, but you’re kind and funny when you want to be. What more could a woman want?” Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
“Money,” he added gravely. “Lots of it.”
Mara’s heart melted. He really did think every woman was after him primarily for his money. “Believe me, there’s plenty more of you to appreciate than your bank account.” She hated that Jared actually believed what he was saying.
“I’ve discovered that a big bank account is their first priority. Other large assets come in last place,” he replied, a hint of humor in his voice now.
His emphasis on the words “large” and “come” made beads of sweat break out on her forehead, even though the summer day wasn’t particularly warm yet. She wasn’t touching his comment. Having this conversation was uncomfortable enough. “Would you like a sample?” she asked desperately, determined to steer the topic of conversation in a different direction.
“I’d like more than a sample,” Jared answered huskily. “I think when it comes to you, I’ll want everything.”
CHAPTER 4