Page 41 of How to Fall for the Secret Billionaire
“Need a hand?”
The voice comes from behind me.
I turn—and see Cal.
He’s leaning just slightly against a porch column, casual as ever, wearing that annoyingly calm expression.
Of course he’s here. Of course he saw everything.
“I got it,” I mutter, trying the ignition again.
Click-click.
Nothing.
“It doesn’t look like you got it,” Cal says, laughing as he strolls closer.
“It’s not funny,” I groan, slumping back against the seat.
“It’s a little funny,” he says, stopping beside the driver’s side window, arms folded over his chest like he has all the time in the world.
“Where are you going anyway?”
“To pick up flowers,” I grumble. “Our florist had an emergency, and I need a bouquet before Kettle Hour. It’s the Honeysetts’ wedding anniversary.”
“Let me drive you.”
I blink at him. “What?”
He nods toward his rental. “I’ll drive you into town. It’ll take twenty minutes, tops.”
“I don’t think that’s?—”
“Don’t think about yourself,” he cuts in, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “Think about the Honeysetts. Be a hero. Make the right decision.”
I open my mouth. Close it.
“You could just lend me your car,” I try weakly.
“Nope.” He grins. “I want to drive you into town. Come on.”
I stare at him for a beat, torn between pride and practicality.
Then I sigh and shut the truck door with more force than necessary,
“Do you shut your door like this all the time, or is that just for me?”
I can’t help the chuckle that falls out of my lips. “Thank you, Cal. For offering.”
He winks at me and leads me to his rented car in the back.
“Do you take your keys everywhere with you?”
“No.” He holds the passenger door open for me like it’s the 1950s and helps me in. “Just today. And fortunately.”
He gets in, starts the car, and for a while, it’s quiet. Peaceful.
But then I feel it—that subtle weight of his gaze. I glance sideways and, yep, he’s full-on staring.
