Entangled (The Accidental Billionaires, #2)(66)
Home should be somewhere that a person felt safe. I’d never had that, even in my late mother’s house. Maybe that was why I was suddenly longing to be back at Aiden’s house.
It was home because we were happy there.
He put his arms around me and pulled me close. “I’ll never be home unless you’re there. I love you, Skye. I’m so damn sorry about what happened.”
I shook my head. “Don’t be. We’re both going to make some mistakes, Aiden. Just cut me a break when I do something totally irrational in the future.”
I put my arms around his neck, basking in the feel of his naked body against mine.
He shook his head. “I’ll never make that mistake again. My goal is to make sure you’re happy.”
“Mission accomplished,” I teased. “I’m already there.”
“It gets better,” he insisted with a grin.
He kissed me, and I melted against him.
I couldn’t imagine that life could be any better than it was right now.
CHAPTER 30
SETH
I was tired of women throwing themselves at me.
Okay. I admit it. That’s not the thing a typical guy would say, but my circumstances were completely different from the average male’s.
One: I was newly wealthy after being poor my entire life.
Two: I was busting my ass to prove I deserved to be a billionaire.
Three: I’d always been too damn busy to date.
Not to mention the fact that I hadn’t met any woman who had enticed me to ask her out on a date in the last year or so.
Maybe my dry spell was because I knew that every single woman who approached me only cared about the fact that I had money. Lots of money. And I knew that none of them would have looked at me twice when I’d been a construction worker.
“Are you Seth Sinclair?” a female voice queried.
I cringed as I looked up at the pretty brunette who was holding a cup of coffee—which wasn’t unusual since we were in a coffee shop. But her smile was way too hopeful and artificial.
“Yes,” I answered abruptly, hoping she’d get the message.
I turned my eyes back to the laptop in front of me. I’d hoped to get my fix of caffeine and accomplish some work at the same time.
“Can I sit here?” she asked with way too much enthusiasm.
I didn’t say anything as I looked back at her.
Jesus! My mother, who was long dead now, had raised her sons to be polite. It wasn’t really all that easy for me to be a complete jerk—which was something all my siblings would deny. They’d say I was the biggest jackass among them. But I did find it difficult to be downright rude to any female.
“Sorry I’m late,” a second female voice said as she nudged past the dark-haired woman waiting for me to answer.
I watched as a gorgeous redhead seated herself at my table like she belonged there.
“Sorry, my mistake.” The dark-haired woman’s voice was brittle, but she turned and walked away.
I turned my attention to the redhead now that the brunette had scurried away.
My new tablemate shrugged the bag off her shoulder and pulled out a laptop computer from it, and then she set it on the table and opened the screen.
She didn’t say a word as she started to work, the quick clicking of the keys telling me that she was furiously doing some kind of project.
Strangely, she didn’t appear to be interested in a conversation.
So why in the hell had she sat down at my table like I knew her?
I looked around the coffee shop. There were plenty of tables available, which made her actions even more perplexing.
But really, did it matter why she was sitting here? The woman had given me exactly what I wanted.
I had a female at my table, so nobody else was going to approach me.
And she obviously wasn’t interested in me personally.
Perfect.
I took a slug of my extra-large coffee and went back to working on my computer.
Problem was, my mind suddenly wasn’t on my work—which was way out of character for me.
Building my business was my priority.
I stewed for a moment before I got impatient.
Okay. I had to know. “Why did you decide to sit here at my table?”
She didn’t stop working, her head still buried in her computer, as she replied, “I was helping you. You’re welcome.”
My brows drew together. “How were you helping me?” I ignored her sarcastic jab.
“You obviously needed a decoy. I needed to sit and work.”
I closed my computer, and then reached out and lowered hers, too, so I could see her face.
She frowned at me, something I found vaguely amusing. “I have to work,” she said, sounding disgusted.
“Humor me,” I requested. “Why did you think I needed help?”
“You looked pretty desperate to escape the runway-model look-alike. I could see the panic on your face.”
“I don’t panic,” I drawled.
“Would you feel better if I said you looked . . . concerned?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Then you looked concerned. Can I get back to work now?”
I ignored her request. “So you just took it upon yourself to come rescue me?”
“Yes,” she answered sharply.