Mara shook her head. He was a billionaire, and she was pretty certain that people jumped when he told them what to do. But that wasn’t asking. And she wasn’t jumping. Folding her arms in front of her stubbornly, she informed him, “You told me. Can’t you just ask?”
“Well, will you?” he grumbled hesitantly, like he was afraid she might say no.
She shot him a sunny smile. It wasn’t exactly a polite invitation by conventional standards, but for him, it probably was. “I’d love to, Jared. Thank you.” Like there was ever any question? It wasn’t often that she had a morning off, and she’d like to spend it with him. Actually liking Jared Sinclair was dangerous, and desiring him was even more so. But she wanted to examine the possibilities of a new business.
And I want to explore Jared Sinclair . . . in every way possible.
Mara’s breath caught in her lungs as Jared shot her a genuine grin at her acceptance of his offer. He was handsome under normal circumstances, but when he smiled at her like that, his curved lips and that happy expression making it all the way to his gorgeous eyes, she was toast.
She exhaled shakily as he looked away and started eagerly packing jars back into boxes and loading them into the bed of her truck.
“I can pack the stuff up and drop it at my place,” Jared drawled as he hefted several boxes easily into the back of her truck as she moved aside.
“You mean you’ll actually be seen riding in my poor old vehicle?” Her truck was beyond old, and should have gone to the truck graveyard a few years ago. But it did run, and it got her where she wanted to go. However, she couldn’t really see Jared Sinclair, billionaire extraordinaire from the elite Boston Sinclairs, riding in her beat-up pickup.
“I’ll even drive,” he agreed readily. “Are you trying to say I’m a snob? Believe it or not, when I was right out of college, I actually used to have a construction work truck similar to this one. I think I kind of miss it.”
“But your other car was probably a Maserati?” she teased him playfully. “This is my primary vehicle.”
“Actually, it was a Bugatti,” he answered gruffly. “And a couple of others.”
“How many vehicles can one guy have?”
He shrugged. “More than he can count. I have at least one in every residence I have. But not all of them are outrageously expensive,” he added defensively. “I have an inexpensive vehicle here in Amesport.”
Mara bit her lip to keep from smiling. How did one tell a billionaire that a Mercedes SUV wasn’t exactly an economy car? She hadn’t meant to imply he was a snob at all. He was just living his life as it had been handed to him, and how he’d gone on to earn the extravagant items that were normal for him. She’d actually never seen Jared as being conceited or full of himself, even though he’d been born rich and had become even richer. In fact, beneath his external facade of measured control that he usually showed to the world, she had a feeling there was a warm center somewhere inside him.
Don’t forget that he discards women as fast as he picks them up.
Ignoring her negative thoughts, Mara reminded herself that what she had heard about Jared was gossip. She’d never had or seen any firsthand knowledge of Jared being a dog, and her mother had always taught her to judge people for herself rather than listen to what others were saying.
“No,” she finally answered. “I don’t think you’re a snob at all. But you are just a little too pretty for my old truck,” she told him cheekily, eyeing his gold watch, designer clothing, and his now wet leather shoes.
Giggling at his disgruntled look, she bent over to retrieve her coffee thermos.
Whack!
Mara squealed and dropped the thermos as his hand connected with her backside, and he wasn’t particularly gentle. “Ouch. What was that?”
Jared leaned in close to her ear. “That was too pretty of a target, sweetheart, and it was payback for insulting my manhood.” He rubbed the area he’d slapped discreetly before moving his hand.
Like anybody could deny he was entirely male.
Okay, maybe she had deserved some retaliation. Jared Sinclair was much too masculine to let her get away with calling him pretty. She gave him a mischievous smile and dug in her pocket for the keys, pulling them out and dangling them in the air.
Jared snatched them deftly. “You have one of these, too?” He was staring strangely at her key chain.
“The Apache tear stone? Beatrice gave it to me.”
Jared dug into his pocket and dangled an empty key chain just like hers. “Me too,” he confessed.
Mara sighed. “She gave it to me after my mother died.”
“Did it help?”
She shrugged. “I survived. I figured it couldn’t hurt.” She didn’t actually believe in Beatrice’s healing, but she’d always found some comfort in the stone for some reason.