Page 63 of Her Billionaire Bargain (Kensington Square)

“I have untold psychic gifts. Stop clenching so hard. You’re going to get a headache.”

“Too late there.” But she worked on relaxing her jaw as she flexed her fingers around the wheel. “Do you let everyone drive your Mustang?”

“Bite your tongue. I only allowed my brother to drive it once, mainly because he said what a horrible investment it was until he let it rip on the back roads. You are not letting it rip,” I observed, noting we’d barely reached thirty-five on a road marked fifty-five.

“Sorry. I’m just tense.”

“No kidding.” I lifted my voice over the wind. At least she hadn’t made me put up the convertible top in case the one dark cloud in the sky turned into rain. “This has a V-8 engine. Made to handle these curves. I wouldn’t have let you drive if I didn’t want you to have fun with it.”

She cast me a sidelong look. “You use that word an awful lot.”

“Yeah. Preston gets annoyed too. Probably why Bishop is his best friend and I’m not.”

“They did seem pretty tight. But that doesn’t mean your outlook is wrong. It’s just different.” She stepped on the gas on a particularly curvy stretch of road a mile or so from her parents’ home. “Okay, here we go, Vi.” Her lips curved. “And we’re off.”

She wasn’t lying. We flew down a steep hill fast enough that her gorgeous curls blew behind her in the morning breeze. Bright green leaves fluttered on the trees along the road, bursting with color with their new growth after the hard winter. Summer was on the way, popping up in the wildflowers dotting the landscape.

She laughed with glee as we raced toward the horizon. I couldn’t help reaching up to grab a fistful of her soft, wild hair, needing to touch her as she shifted to grin at me with pure pleasure in her eyes. It helped that these back roads were basically deserted at this time of day on a Sunday. “You’re beautiful.”

“You ain’t bad yourself.”

She whipped around the winding roads like an old pro then let out a long breath as she slowed down on the approach to her parents’ street.

Reluctantly, I released her hair. I really wanted to kiss her while she was still flushed and breathless with the thrill of speed, but now wasn’t the time. Who knew who could be watching?

She signaled to turn into the long driveway of her folks’ charming ranch. Cheerful flowers bloomed out front and along the side. Berry was on the porch swing—did anything say bucolic family home more than one of those—pumping her legs to go faster than she probably should’ve.

Upon spotting my car, she hopped down and descended the steps, jogging across the lawn just as I opened my door. “Where’s Bob?” she demanded.

“Alice Anne, where are your manners?” Shelby scolded as she climbed out of the car before I could even get around the hood to open her door.

Not that I could’ve anyway since Berry was standing right in front of me, hands on her hips, lower lip stuck out in a pout.

She was basically a miniaturized version of Shelby except her hair was tinged with more red and she had more freckles.

“Hi, kiddo.” I ruffled her hair in its long twin ponytails and she arched an eyebrow at me, making me laugh. “Excuse me. Hi, Miss Berry,” I said formally, bending at the waist to hopefully make her laugh.

Worked like a charm.

“Hi, can I please ask where is Bob, the pug dog?”

I laughed again and even Shelby joined in this time. “He’s at my house. Would you like to come over for a visit this afternoon?” I glanced at Shelby. “Your mom too, of course.”

“Yes. Can we get ice cream? The stand up the road just opened for the season.” She cocked her head, clutching the battered stuffed unicorn under her arm that much tighter. “They have pup cups. Just plain vanilla cause dogs can’t have chocolate. But I can.”

“After lunch,” Shelby said just as I was about to say sure, why not?

Clearly, I did not know my moves when it came to dealing with kids.

The front screen door banged open and Shelby’s parents appeared as a solid unit. “There you are. We wondered if you’d gotten lost on the way back.” Her mom stepped forward and waited for me to climb the steps to shake her outstretched hand. “I’m Shelby’s mother. What are your intentions?”

“Mom, for Pete’s sake, I haven’t even had a chance to do introductions yet. Dex, meet my mom, Jenna Wilde, and my dad, Danny Wilde. This is Dexter Shaw.”

“Hi, I’m Dex. Nice to meet you.”

Her father decided to join in. “Yes, we know you’re Dex. Now what are your intentions toward our Shelby?”

Shelby wrapped her arm around Berry’s shoulders and hurried her past us on the steps. “Let’s go get you packed up.”

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