Then again, as Sebastian crossed the junkyard to join her on the drive, it occurred to her that maybe there were a couple of other things that could also make her happy. Most of them having to do with getting naked with the beautiful man coming toward her.
“I missed you yesterday.” It was one heck of a good morning. Almost as good as the way he put a hand on her arm, stroking her skin. “Everything going okay?”
Charlie tried to pretend there was nothing over-the-top about a helicopter sitting in her yard or a billionaire driving her wild with nothing but a simple touch. To use her mother’s word, he was yummy in a pair of butt-hugging jeans and a short-sleeved black shirt that defined every hard muscle and emphasized just how broad he was in a way his suit hadn’t.
The often buried feminine voice inside of her told her she should have worn something better than her overalls and steel-toed boots. But it was moving day and she hadn’t been sure whether he would show up, or merely send his guys.
Boy, had he shown up.
“Totally fine.” She was glad she sounded completely normal, not starstruck. Or like a teenage girl whose heart was back-flipping at how incredibly handsome he was in the sunlight. “We’re making sure everything gets strapped down.” She called out to Jerry who had a jet-black mustache, “Don’t forget the ladder.”
He waved an acknowledgment as he rolled a dolly holding her barrel of nuts and bolts up the ramp and into the cavernous semi.
“I didn’t need you to rent a trailer this big, Sebastian.”
“How many barrels of nuts and bolts are you bringing?”
“Just one.”
“And barrels of screws?”
“Only one.”
He cocked an eyebrow as he asked, “How about barrels of monkeys?” in such a deadpan tone that she almost missed the joke.
Who would have thought that a billionaire could be adorable? She could get so attached if she let herself, she thought, as she answered his question just as seriously. “Seven. One for each day of the week.”
“Now that I’m watching them load everything in, I’m thinking I should have sent a bigger trailer.” He leaned close, so close that she was hit with a sudden rush of heat. One that had absolutely nothing to do with the hot sun. His bare skin brushed her, the dusting of hair on his arm soft against hers. She wondered if he had hair on his chest. How thick it was. How soft. And what his skin would smell like if she burrowed her nose against him. “Before we’re done, you’ll have everything in the yard stowed inside the trailer.”
He smelled so good that she almost lost her train of thought, almost forgot she couldn’t let him be right about absolutely everything, including the fact that she would probably need most of the semi for her equipment and supplies. “I’m only taking essentials.”
She surveyed the property for anything else that might turn out to be essential, and of course she found plenty that was. Half an hour later, the trailer was packed with her equipment, her barrels, her parts, extra bottles of argon and other gases used in the welding process, boxes of protective gear, solder rolls, tubing, and miscellaneous tools. The last thing she needed was her suitcase.
When she walked out of her house with it, Sebastian rushed forward to take it from her. Though she could easily carry it, she appreciated his good manners. Someone had clearly raised him well.
“I’ve never met a woman who can pack for two months in a carry-on.”
“As long as there’s a washing machine in your guest cottage, I don’t need to bring everything I own.” She’d packed sundries like shampoo and toothpaste, work clothes, shorts, tops, her one good pair of jeans, a pair of sandals, her iPad, chargers. At the last minute, she’d thrown in a couple of sundresses.
“You are the queen of low maintenance.”
“You do realize you’re saying this to the woman who just filled up an entire semi with junk, right?”
“That’s your art.” He stowed her suitcase carefully in his helicopter. “It’s a vocation, not maintenance.” He said it with complete sincerity, despite the fun he’d made of all her barrels.
A vocation. Not junk. No guy she’d ever been attracted to had felt that way about what she did.
“Okay.” He dusted off his hands. “We’ll take the helicopter, and the guys can meet us.”
The helicopter. It was hard to hold back a wow. Or to ignore just how badly she wanted to experience flying in a helicopter. But she needed to make sure she could come and go freely from his property while she was working on the chariot and horses. “That sounds like fun, but I need to drive my truck.”
Sebastian eyed her dusty truck beside the garage. “You’re free to use one of mine.”
“You have a truck too?” Until now, she’d managed to be cool about his wealth—and everything he was offering her—but the question came out before she could stop it.
He simply grinned and said, “What can I say? I’ve liked playing with them since I was a kid. And honestly, I’d feel better having you drive something more reliable.”
She looked at the dirt barely holding her truck together. He had a good point. Still, she was wary about agreeing to anything too quickly. Not when she’d been so careful to make sure she could easily take care of herself without depending on a man.
“No strings, Charlie,” he reminded her in a soft voice.
She believed him. But what about the strings she might want to tie on at some point in the future? What if she fell for him? What if she let herself believe in him the way he seemed to believe in her already?
Don’t borrow trouble, honey. It was something her mother had said to her more than once when they were taking care of her father, and then again when she had to move into the nursing home. Just try to appreciate the good things we already have.
“Thanks, I’d appreciate the loaner,” she finally said, giving him a smile to let him know she truly meant it.
“Then we’re ready to go.” He circled his arm above his head, and a beat later, the helicopter’s rotor blades started to whirl.
Sebastian held out his hand, offering her the adventure of a lifetime. Days spent with a billionaire and all his toys. A six-figure commission. Entrée into a glittering world of future art patrons.
There would also be pressure. Pressure to create. Pressure to fit in. And plenty of time to wonder if in the long run Sebastian might not be quite as charmed by her menagerie or her very unique quirks as he seemed to be right now...
No. She wouldn’t let herself borrow any more trouble. She couldn’t let this chance slip through her fingers just because she was afraid to step into shoes she’d never worn before.
Reminding herself that this was the life any artist in her right mind would die for, Charlie put her hand in his and let him sweep her away.
* * *
Half an hour later, Sebastian brought Charlie’s suitcase into the guest bungalow. She’d filled almost an entire semi with her equipment, but she had only one small suitcase.
Sebastian couldn’t begin to describe how attractive that was. Not that she needed any help in that department, given that he’d been seriously hard-pressed not to kiss her at least a hundred times this morning.
“I hope you’ll be comfortable here.”
“Comfortable?” She turned in a circle. “Look at this place. It’s huge.”
There were four bedrooms that he’d equipped with flat-panel TVs, stereos, game consoles, and computers. The bathrooms all had a large jet tub, sauna, and rain shower. Sliding glass doors opened onto a deck and hot tub. And the kitchen was fully stocked with top-of-the-line appliances.
“I can’t stay here for free. I have to pay you rent.”
He’d be damned if he took a dollar from her. “I’m providing accommodations so that you’re at your best when you’re creating. Room and board is part of our deal.”