An Accidental Date with a Billionaire

He fought back a grin. “I agree, but I can hold a hammer.”

“But can you use it?”

He locked eyes with her. “Oh, I can use it, all right.”

Her cheeks reddened, and she crossed her arms defensively. “I find that hard to believe.”

“No, you don’t.”

Cheeks bright red now, she refused to turn toward him. She was so pretty, sitting there with her long brown hair pulled up in a no-frills ponytail. She didn’t have an ounce of makeup on, as if she’d purposely dressed to not impress, and yet she had the opposite effect on him.

“Let’s go. They’re waiting for us,” she muttered, opening her car door.

He rushed around to the side of the car, trying to beat her to the toolbox, but damn, the woman moved quickly. By the time he reached her, she was already closing the door and switching the toolbox to her right hand. “Let me carry that—”

“I’ve got it,” she said, tipping her nose into the air.

Reaching for it anyway, his fingers brushed hers before she jerked back. “But—”

“I said, I’ve got it.”

Holding his hands up in surrender, he backed off. “Okay.”

She stiffened even more. “You ready?”

“Yeah, hold on.” He walked to his trunk, popping it open. Without saying a word, he pulled out the toolbox he always kept in his trunk, just in case. Old habits died hard. After closing the trunk, he nodded at her. “Now I’m ready.”

Her jaw dropped. “You keep a toolbox in your car?”

“Always.” He forced a smile despite her constant contempt toward him. “When I was in college, I worked construction.”

She opened and closed her mouth, but no sound came out.

“My mom was on her own. She did her best to raise me and get me to college. She always worried about my future, so I secretly went out, got a job in construction, and used the cash to pay for college. She thought I got a scholarship, but the truth was I paid it all so she could stop worrying about me.” He locked eyes with her. “Like I said, I wasn’t born with a silver spoon.”

After what had to have been a million years, she cleared her throat and stepped closer to him. “I…I guess not.”

Someone passed by, and he waved. “Hey, Taylor.”

“Max, what’s up?”

The other man came over and clapped him on the back. “I didn’t know you still did these things. How long’s it been since we’ve seen each other? Four years?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Taylor said, shame rushing over him. Had it been that long since he helped out? What happened to the time? What had happened to him? “Back now, though.”

“Glad of it.” Max walked backward, pointing to the left. “We could use some of your help with the framing. No one over there knows what they’re doing—not like you do.”

Taylor grinned. “I’ll be right there.” When he turned back to Sam, she looked like she’d swallowed nails. “You okay?” he asked, trying not to smile.

She fisted her hands. “You’ve…helped out before?”

He nodded.

“Then why didn’t you have clothes to wear? And why haven’t I seen you?” she asked in a rush.

He rubbed his jaw. “I got rid of the jeans I used to wear here when I got tar all over them and told myself I’d buy more before coming back. I can’t believe it’s been four years already…shit.”

“I…” She cleared her throat. “I see.”