Page 67 of Billionaire Protector

“You haven’t even heard my reasons.” She scowled. “How can you reject them?”

“You’re right.” He put the mallet down, swung back to face her. He was so tall, he blocked out the sun. “So what are they?”

Make your choice – Will it be zombie apocalypse? Aliens? An army of invading French fries?

She stared, cleared her throat, stared some more, looked at the sky (still no mysterious message, zombies or invading French fries) and stared again. All the impossible and unlikely reasons danced in her head, each more ridiculous than the last. Perhaps she could combine them. An alien army of zombies with pet French fries.Winner!

“Are you trying to think of an excuse right now?”

She fashioned her best incredulous look. Put her hands on her hips and stomped her foot for good measure. Was it likely to work? Nope. Her acting hadn’t improved since she’d been cast as a tree in the community theater. “Of course not.”

“Are you sick?”

“No,” she answered automatically, then cringed. There goes the I-caught-a-mild-case-of-the-plague excuse.

“Did something come up at work?”

“No.” She had to answer that one truthfully since they worked together. So far, the most serious call involved littering. Maybe she could somehow upgrade it to felony littering. Littering with intent?Sir, pick up the bubblegum wrapper or I’ll be forced to take you in.

“Is there some sort of personal emergency?”

“No.” She slumped down, the disappointment in her voice obvious. She would’ve answered affirmatively, but then he would ask about said emergency, then she would start railing about aliens, zombies and/or invading French Fries and matters would go seriously downhill from there.

“Are you trying to get out of it because you don’t know how to handle me?” He gave the hit-the-nail-on-the-head-and-pound-it-through-the-ground answer. Before she could yelp,Look, a zombie!he leaned in. “So you’re backing out because you’re scared. I’m sorry, but I can’t accept that excuse.” He lifted the mallet and pivoted back to the posts.

“Now wait just a minute!” Sarah stomped forward. “I’m not scared of going with you. If I was, I would have made up some ludicrous excuse.”And if she’d claimed aliens from the beginning, she wouldn’t be in this mess.

He lowered the mallet to the ground once more, handling the heavy tool as if it were a twig. “Okay, then let’s hear it. But remember, I’m a cop, so I’ll be able to check out any story you give me.”

Sarah scowled. That definitely eliminated alien invasion. “It’s just not a good idea for us to go together. Because… because… you’re you, and I’m me.”

Somehow he didn’t answer with, “Oh, of course, why didn’t I think of that?” Instead he smiled. “That makes absolutely no sense.”

That was beside the point.“Things are getting too complicated between us.”

He tilted his head. “In what way?”

He was going to make her say it. “You know in what way. We’re kis… doing things we shouldn’t be doing, having feelings we shouldn’t be having.”

She regretted the words instantly, but it was too late. He leveled the full force of his gaze on her. “Feelings?”

No way was she going there. “You know what I mean.” Up above, two dozen women leaned against the balcony, not even pretending not to eavesdrop. She lowered her voice. “Don’t you see how much attention we attract?”

He glanced at the women, then back at her. “Are you sure you’re not jealous?”

“Jealous?” She chirped out a small laugh. “Of course, I’m not jealous. Even the idea is laughable. I’m so far from jealous I’m–” She searched for the right word. None existed. “Well, not jealous.”

Only she was, terribly and annoyingly so. Of course, she couldn’t admit that to him. To be jealous required an emotional attachment, and she’d certainly never allow that. Yet his gaze proved he saw more than she admitted – even to herself. “It’s not fair. You do this–” She waved her hand over his so-close-to-naked-and-yet-not-close-enough body. “And you expect people to ignore it.”

“What have I done?” He stepped closer. “I removed my shirt while building a fence in a private backyard. Is something wrong with that?” His eyes darkened. “Are you having trouble ignoring it?”

Oh, yes. Yuparoo. Ding ding ding!“It’s fine.”But I would be happier if you took off more than the shirt.She cleared her throat. “As for the fair, I can’t go with you, and that’s final.”

“Can’t go where?”

Sarah cringed as Mrs. Carmichael walked out of the back patio. Yet she brightened a moment later. Perhaps this was an opportunity. If she could get the elderly lady on her side, she might convince Cole to let her out of their arrangement. “It’s wonderful to see you, Mrs. Carmichael. I was just telling Cole I couldn’t make it to the Renaissance fair. He told me I have no choice.”

“Oh that’s silly.” Mrs. Carmichael tsked.

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