Wedding His Takeover Target Read Online Free Page B

butterfly fighting to get free of a collector’s pin. “Henry is worried that you don’t get out often enough.”
    Embarrassment bubbled inside her. Thanks, Pops. “That’s because I don’t date.”
    â€œEver?”
    â€œNo.”
    His square jaw dipped. “Are you gay?”
    Typical. “Do you assume every woman who turns you down is gay?”
    A slow smile curved Gavin’s full lips. “Only the ones who ignore the obvious chemistry between us.”
    So he’d caught that, had he? She hadn’t experienced that rush of response since before her husband had died and it had caught her off guard. She had no interest in pursuing it. “There is no chemistry.”
    The fire in Gavin’s eyes told her she shouldn’t have challenged him. Two long strides brought him within touching distance. Within smelling distance. An outdoorsy, woodsy and clean scent mixed with a hint of something spicy and exotic clung to him.
    She stared into his handsome face, alarm prickling the hairs on her nape and arms. He wasn’t particularly tall—six feet, maybe a little more—but he seemed bigger in an intimidating, turf-conquering way despite the snowboarder-disheveled hair that should have made him appear easygoing and approachable.
    â€œNo chemistry?” He lifted a hand.
    Sabrina backed out of reach. “Don’t.”
    â€œDon’t prove you’re lying?”
    â€œCalling a woman a liar is a unique way to win points. Does that approach usually work for you, Mr. Jarrod?”
    The corners of his eyes crinkled. “You seem like the type who’d appreciate honesty.”
    â€œGood deduction. Let’s start with what business do you have with my grandfather?”
    â€œI’d be happy to tell you.” Gavin’s smile broadened, revealing an orthodontist’s dream of straight white teeth. “Over dinner.”
    Sabrina ground her molars in aggravation. How could sheprotect her grandfather and the inn without information? “Nice try. The answer’s still no.”
    â€œNot even if I tell you your grandfather has something I want?”
    Warning sirens blared in her head. “What?”
    â€œJoin me and I’ll tell you.”
    She really hated being backed into a corner, but she wasn’t going to let Gavin have the upper hand.
    â€œMake it lunch.” It wouldn’t be a date. It would merely be a fact-finding mission.
    Those gold-flecked eyes probed hers. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at eleven. Dress warmly. Wear walking shoes.”
    Without waiting for an answer he brushed past her and exited via the back door.
    Dress warmly? Wear walking shoes? What had she gotten herself into? At the sound of the lock catching, the tension deflated from her muscles like air escaping from a balloon.
    The creak of a floorboard brought her around. Pops made his way down the center hall, his steps lacking the vigor that had once radiated from him. She tucked her concern away for later and parked her hands on her hips. “What was that about?”
    â€œJarrod’s just being neighborly.”
    The fact that he didn’t look at her when he spoke sent tingles of worry down her spine. “Baloney. What does he want?”
    â€œCan’t a body converse with a neighbor?”
    â€œHe told me you had something he wanted.”
    He shrugged. “The Jarrods own half the damn valley. What more could they want?”
    When Pops wore that stubborn expression trying to get him to talk was a waste of time, but she didn’t believe the just-being-friendly story for one second.
    â€œPops, why did you tell him I don’t go out?”
    â€œYou don’t.”
    She shook her head. “You know I’m not interested in—”
    â€œYou should be. Your husband died. You didn’t.”
    She flinched at the quick stab of pain. “I’m not ready.”
    She’d never be ready.