Page 39 of Her Billionaire Bargain (Kensington Square)

“At times.” I shrugged. “I know you don’t trust me. That’s fine. I probably wouldn’t trust me either. That comes in time—or it doesn’t.”

Her nose wrinkled as she tried to brush off the now-drying dirt on the hem of her dress. I’d never even noticed. Somehow it didn’t dim her beauty in that swingy dress one iota.

“Stop fussing.” I stilled her hand. “You look lovely.”

“Do you need glasses? I kneeled in a puddle.”

“You should meet my mother. Gardening is her life. Her outfit isn’t complete if she doesn’t have dirt on her clothes or on her face or both.”

To my surprise, her lips curved into a genuine smile. “Maybe she could give me some tips. I love gardening, but I can’t spend nearly enough time on it.” She bit her lip. “And I’m probably not going to meet her, so that’s not going to happen. Shut up, Shelby.”

“Why wouldn’t you meet her?”

She slammed the trunk, just barely missing my tapping thumb. “WhywouldI meet her?” she countered as Berry peered at us curiously from the backseat. Bob had flopped down on her lap and was too busy staring at her adoringly to worry about us.

“Because you have a common interest?”

“You?”

“I was thinking of gardening, but if you consider me an interest, good for you. Be loud and proud about it.”

She screwed up her face in a way that was more cute than threatening before she marched around to get in on the passenger side before I could open her door.

Feisty.

I got behind the wheel and had barely rolled down the top and started the car before Berry announced, “Do you like my mom?”

Clearing my throat, I met her inquisitive blue eyes in the rearview mirror. “I don’t know her very well, but I like her well enough. Why?”

“You act like the boy in my class who is always kicking my chair. Patty said he likes me.”

While I puzzled over that, Shelby swiveled around to stare at her daughter. “What boy? Do I need to talk to your teacher?”

“No, Mom.” It was almost impressive how many syllables she made both of those words.

Though I wasn’t sure what it said about my level of game that it was similar to an eight-year-old’s.

“He doesn’t like me. He doesn’t know me. We are friends…friendly,” Shelby corrected. “We are working together.”

“If you say so. But you’re not at work now.”

“She has a good point,” I said in a low voice.

Shelby ignored me. “Are you sure I don’t need to know about this boy?”

“He’s just a dumb boy. He’s not even cute.”

“You are a harsh woman,” I said to the rearview mirror before I reversed out of the space. “Looks aren’t everything.”

“Why are you looking at boys, anyway?” Shelby demanded.

“I have eyes?”

“Another good point.”

Shelby pierced me with a glance that said shut up without using actual words. It was fairly impressive and just a little scary in a hot way.

Berry fed Bob a dog bone and he chomped it thoughtfully before going back to gazing at her with a level of love heretofore unseen.

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