Page 9 of A Billionaire for Christmas
While they did that, the man in front of her shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and ambled closer to her.
“Once they’re finished loading, I’ll ride with you to deliver them.”
“I’m sure you’d be much more comfortable in your Mercedes.” And the last thing she needed was tall, dark and distracting sitting beside her, watching her fumble the old manual truck from one gear to another. She hadn’t had a lot of practice in recent years, though she’d driven it thousands of times.
“I insist. I can help you navigate to the proper areas for unloading.”
It wasn’t an unreasonable request. Or offer. Especially from someone who’d cleared out the lot. “Fine. I suppose that’ll be okay. I’ll… I’ll go change.”
“No, leave it on. I like it. You look adorable, and someone will be there to snap a few photos to mark the occasion.”
She glanced at the rapidly emptying lot as more trees continued to be stacked on the truck by the men. They were making record time. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt,” she said, reminding herself that her parents deserved all the help they could get. If it cost her a little humiliation, so be it. It was nothing compared to the pain and humiliation her mother endured while nurses and doctors helped her live at the moment. “Thank you again for the business. My— My parents will be thrilled.”
“You’re very welcome. Now about your lack of holiday spirit…”
She held up her hands and shook her head. “I’m good. You can take my share this year.”
“That’s not acceptable. Besides, I like a challenge.”
“I’m not a challenge,” she said. “I mean, not that I’measy.I just meant?—”
His chuckle warmed her from head to toe and all the places in between.
The warmth in his dark gaze quickened the normally steady thrum of her heart, and she fought to regain her composure. Any other time, she’d be all for meeting a gorgeous man, but now? Jobless, homeless, and with her life so up in the air? Her mom needing her help the moment she was released from the hospital? This wasn’t a good time. The last thing sheneededwas a man. “Let’s just…get the trees to wherever they’re going so we can both be about our days, shall we?”
ChapterSix
Rhys couldn’t stop his smile due to Sara’s prim and decidedly pointed response. He wondered if there was a porcupine costume in the camper because it might better fit her prickly attitude at the moment.
A longer look at the delicate shadows beneath her eyes that the glittery makeup couldn’t conceal reminded him that she had a lot going on.
“All loaded, sir,” one of the men called.
“We’ll meet you there,” he said. “I’m riding with Ms. Zinnick.”
She looked grumbly but excused herself to retrieve the keys to the truck along with her ID. He watched as she locked up the camper and then followed her to where the truck sat waiting.
The puffy crinoline skirt rode up her candy-cane-striped thighs as she climbed in, and he enjoyed a long look before moving round to get in beside her.
She looked absolutely adorable in her costume, facing a wheel twice her width as she got them off to a chugging start. The old truck purred like a champ as Sara rolled them off the lot, onto the roadway. She shifted gears with the grace of a ballerina. “I don’t know a single woman—other than you—that can drive a stick shift. I’m thoroughly impressed.”
She glanced at him as they bounced along, a pleased flush to her sparkly cheeks.
“I learned to drive it before my legs were long enough to reach the pedals. My dad sat me on his lap and we drove around the farm. He did the pedals, and I was in charge of the steering and gears.”
He smiled at the image, that aspect of her life, because of the love reflected on her expressive face. “I bet you had a fun childhood.”
“The best,” she said softly. “Though I never knew how lucky I was until I went to college. I mean, obviously everyone has a story, but it wasn’t until then that I realized how…goodmy story was. That’s why one day, I’d love to share it by?—”
She broke off abruptly and shook her head, the act firing every brain cell inside him to know her secret. “You’d like to share it by…what?”
She gave him another furtive glance. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to tell you since I won’t see you again.”
He frowned at that, not liking that thought at all.
“I’ve always dreamed of writing children’s books,” she said softly, like she truly shared a secret. “About living on the farm and the animals and the Christmas trees. It’s…what I’ve been working on in the camper before I open on weekdays, to keep busy.”
And from worrying about her mother no doubt. “Those sound like amazing stories. I’d love to read them sometime.”
