by Scott, J. S.
Like anybody could deny he was entirely male.
Okay, maybe she had deserved some retaliation. Jared Sinclair was much too masculine to let her get away with calling him pretty. She gave him a mischievous smile and dug in her pocket for the keys, pulling them out and dangling them in the air.
Jared snatched them deftly. “You have one of these, too?” He was staring strangely at her key chain.
“The Apache tear stone? Beatrice gave it to me.”
Jared dug into his pocket and dangled an empty key chain just like hers. “Me too,” he confessed.
Mara sighed. “She gave it to me after my mother died.”
“Did it help?”
She shrugged. “I survived. I figured it couldn’t hurt.” She didn’t actually believe in Beatrice’s healing, but she’d always found some comfort in the stone for some reason.
“My thoughts exactly,” Jared answered as he shoved the key chain back into his pocket. After folding the heavy table she used for her displays and loading it into the back of her truck, he slammed the tailgate closed and snatched up her thermos and the tote lying on the ground. As he handed her the items, he asked, “Ready?”
That one little one-word question touched Mara’s emotions on so many levels. Was she ready? Her entire life was changing right now, and she’d have a lot of challenges she’d never faced before. Was she done grieving over the loss of her mom and generations of tradition? Maybe not, but she had to move on with her life. Jared was right. Her mother would have wanted her to succeed, and would have been disappointed if Mara kept holding on to a losing business when she had better opportunities. Still, she wished it didn’t hurt so damn much to let go.
Jared Sinclair inspired far different emotions, and she was fairly certain they were dangerous.
I need to start living my life sometime, taking some risks.
She’d spent her entire adult life looking after her mother, and she’d never regret it, but her mom would have wanted her to be happy, experience life. Jared was right about what her mother would have wanted for her only child. She had her memories of her mother, and her gran who had died when Mara was still in grade school. She’d hold those close to her chest and start living for herself now. She had to if she wanted to move on and survive.
She nodded at Jared. “I’m ready.”
A look of understanding sparked between them as their eyes met and held. Mara shivered as she felt some kind of connection solidify.
Maybe he was dangerous to her.
Maybe he was troubled.
Maybe he had some of the same issues he needed to work through as she did. She’d begun to suspect he did, even before the strange coincidence that Beatrice had given them the same stone.
As Jared opened the passenger door for her, Mara wondered if maybe, just possibly, they could help heal each other.
CHAPTER 5
What in the hell is wrong with me?
Jared tried to focus on his driving, unable to forget his passionate encounter with Mara for even two damn seconds. He’d remember her needy little moans for a very long time, and they’d be echoing in his head later when he took himself in hand to take away the pressure of his aching cock.
I completely lost control. I don’t lose control anymore. Not ever.
Kissing Mara had been his first loss of restraint in years. When he’d been devouring her, he couldn’t have cared less if the entire world fell apart, as long as he could get closer to her, deeper into her mouth.
Mine.
That one word kept repeating in his mind, driving him closer to the edge of taking what he wanted, and damn the consequences of his actions.
She wanted the same thing.
Bullshit! He was kidding himself if he thought for a moment that Mara really wanted him. She had no idea what she was getting herself into, what kind of man he really was. Mara Ross was way too open, too sweet to realize what she needed, and that sure as hell wasn’t him. Yet, it didn’t stop him from wanting her with an intensity that caused him to forget rational thought.
“Sullivan’s is better than Tony’s.” Mara’s voice broke the silence.
Jared jolted himself into reality as she spoke from the passenger seat of the beat-up old truck. And dammit, he needed to talk to her about this damn vehicle. He didn’t care what it looked like. He hadn’t been kidding when he told her he’d had a work truck like this one. But it had always been in good repair. What really mattered was that the brakes were squealing, the engine was choking, and the tires were almost completely bald. “Sullivan’s?” Jared had never heard of the place. He always ate at Tony’s. The ambiance was good, and the food was decent.
“Turn right at the stop sign,” she instructed. “Sullivan’s has the best seafood in town. It’s mostly locals. Tony’s is fancier, so I guess the visitors figure the food is better. It’s not.”
Jared turned, letting her guide him to a different place to eat. After they’d dropped off the jars of taffy and jam he had purchased from Mara at his house and settled the bill, he was starving. He’d missed breakfast, except for the sample of her incredible homemade products, and was beyond ready for lunch. “Now what?” he asked, his tone impatient. There wasn’t a food joint in sight.
“Find a place to park at the dead end. We’ll have to walk to the end of the boardwalk,” she told him calmly.
Jared turned into a dirt parking lot at the end of the street and maneuvered into a parking spot. “The shack?” He’d seen the rough old building at the end of the boardwalk, near the old pier that led to the lighthouse, but hadn’t paid much attention. It hadn’t even looked habitable.
“Sullivan’s Steak and Seafood. It’s been there for as long as I can remember. Best lobster rolls in the area.” Mara unbuckled her seat belt and smiled at Jared.
“It looks like a dive,” Jared grumbled.
“It is,” Mara agreed. “But the food is the best in town. And I don’t have to worry about being underdressed.”
Hell, he wished she was underdressed, preferably beneath him naked right now. He would happily trade lunch for her. Jared suspected his irritable mood was caused more by his inexplicable need for Mara than food. Unfortunately, she was still wearing her ass-hugging jean shorts that were like a torture device if he was walking behind her, and the T-shirt she had been wearing at the market. He hopped out of the truck and pocketed the keys as he jogged to her side of the truck to open the door before she could get it. He’d noticed that the door stuck when he’d had to practically pry it open at his house. “I’m starving,” he told her testily as the door popped open after he exerted considerable force.
“You won’t be.” She laughed and grabbed his hand, forcing him to close the door quickly as he followed her. For a moment, he considered whether or not he should have locked the truck, but discarded the idea. Someone would be doing her a favor if they stole it, and he’d have an excuse to replace it.
They passed the Lighthouse Inn at the end of the street, a lodging he’d become very familiar with during the time he’d been supervising the construction of homes on the Peninsula for him and his siblings. He designed and helped build every one of those homes except Grady’s, who had built his own home at the very end of the Peninsula before Jared had ever set foot in Amesport. After visiting Grady, Jared had known every one of them needed a home here. There was something special about the small coastal town, something healing, and God knew every one of the Sinclairs needed a place like this to escape.
Jared let her lead him until they reached the boardwalk, and then they ended up walking side by side. She tugged to let go of his hand, but he entwined their fingers and kept a firm grasp, liking the feel of her palm against his, being connected to her somehow. It was a simple touch that he hadn’t felt in a very long time, and he’d forgotten how good it felt. Honestly, he didn’t think it had ever made his heart lighter just by touching a
woman in such an uncomplicated manner. But with Mara, it did. “It’s raining,” he observed, feeling a few droplets land on his forehead.
“That’s why I wanted to sell my stuff fast at the market today. We’re supposed to get more thunderstorms this afternoon.”
It had warmed up considerably since his rude awakening early this morning, but Jared could see the clouds starting to roll in. Thankfully, they arrived at the shack, and Mara led him around to the front entrance, a door that wasn’t visible unless a person walked toward the lighthouse, which few people actually did once they reached the end of the boardwalk. The pier leading to the large beacon for fishermen wasn’t exactly picturesque, and neither was the old lighthouse, which looked weathered and in need of repairs.
Sullivan’s Steak and Seafood.
The name of the place was carved on a piece of weathered driftwood hanging unevenly beside the entrance. “Classy,” he mumbled, able to hear voices now coming from inside the hut. He plucked Mara’s glasses off her face and dried them on his shirt, cleaning off a few droplets of water, before perching them back on her face.
“Thanks.” She adjusted the glasses slightly. “Why do you keep doing that?”
“I wore glasses. It’s irritating to try to see around the spots.”
“You don’t need them anymore?” she asked curiously.
“Nope. I had laser done.” He looked at the lopsided sign on the door dubiously. “Are you sure it’s safe to eat here?”
“Don’t judge. Outward appearances can be deceiving. The food is amazing.”
“I hope so.” He reached for the door and opened it for her, waving at her to go in first.
Surprisingly, the place wasn’t as bad as Jared had imagined, judging by the weathered exterior. There was a cash register inside the door and a bar with four chairs, where solo diners could sit and eat. The tables weren’t exactly elegant, but they were serviceable, and most of them were full.
“Mara,” a high, female voice called loudly from the service window behind the bar.
Jared looked at Mara as she waved at a pretty woman with honey-blonde hair, around the same age as she was, standing near the service window. “That’s Tessa Sullivan. We went to high school together. She’ll come out and say hello. Tessa is deaf, but she reads lips very well,” she told him in a quiet voice.
The blonde came barreling out the swinging door to the kitchen and made a beeline for Mara, catching her up in a huge hug. “I haven’t seen you in a while,” Tessa scolded Mara as she hugged her.
Mara leaned back so Tessa could read her lips. “I’ve been busy, or I would have been here sooner. You know how much I love your food.”
“As much as we love yours,” Tessa replied, her voice lilting slightly from her inability to hear her own words. “Did you bring me anything?”
“Sold out at the market,” Mara replied, sounding regretful. Turning her head to Jared, she quickly explained, “They use some of my products when I have extra.”
Looking directly at Tessa, Jared asked, “Would you use them all the time if you had an ample supply?”
Tessa looked at Mara questioningly, as though she was wondering if she should answer a stranger’s questions.
“Sorry. Tessa, this is my friend, Jared Sinclair. Jared, this is Tessa Sullivan, half owner of Sullivan’s. Tessa and her brother, Liam, run the restaurant,” Mara explained.
Jared had to let go of Mara’s hand to hold it out to Tessa. “It’s a pleasure,” he said warmly, already liking the cheerful female who didn’t seem the least bit troubled about the fact that she couldn’t hear.
“Same here,” Tessa answered, gripping his hand firmly and shaking it. “And yes, I’d use her products all the time if I could get my hands on them. Her jams and sauces are amazing. I’d love to have them all the time. I’ve based some of my recipes on her sauces, so I can only make them when she can get me a supply. And the customers love her jellies.”
Jared smiled at the attractive blonde as he dropped his arm to his side, automatically reaching for Mara’s hand again. “I’m trying to talk her into making her jams, jellies, and sauces into a real business. Then she could make them available all the time.”
The fair-haired female bounced up and down, excited, clapping her hands together. “That would be fantastic. But what about your doll shop?” She looked at Mara with a frown.
Mara shook her head. “The owner is selling the house. I have to find something else. The shop isn’t making money anyway, so there’s no point in finding another location.”
The blonde’s face fell. “I’m so sorry, Mara. But you’ll do great with the new business. Your edibles are unique and wonderful. If I could stock your taffy and jams near the register, I’d sell out in a day.”
“That’s what I keep telling her,” Jared seconded the woman’s encouraging comments when Tessa looked his way.
“Thanks, Tessa,” Mara answered with a smile.
“Let me get you a table.” Tessa went to clear and clean a table for them.
“You didn’t tell me you already had customers in town clamoring for your products.” Jared shot Mara an irritated look. Hell, her food products were obviously already in high demand here in Amesport. “Are there others?”
Mara shrugged. “Some. A few of the shops in town would like to carry them all the time. But I can never make enough to distribute.”
“That won’t be a problem anymore,” he told her harshly.
“We’ll talk about it. The offer you’re making isn’t acceptable to me. You should take at least half interest.”
Hell, if he was thinking with the head above his neck, he’d take more than half so that he had controlling interest. Unfortunately, the head below his waist didn’t give a damn about having the greater percentage in her business. The only place he wanted to control her was in the bedroom. Or up against a wall. Or just about anywhere that he could have some privacy. “We’ll definitely talk about it,” he ground out, his jaw clenched. Somehow, he’d talk her into seeing things his way.
Mara opened her mouth to say something, but she closed it again as Tessa came back to show them to their table.
Jared was agitated, and he wondered why it was so damn important that he make Mara see reason. It was a small business. It should be no big deal to him. However, for some reason, getting Mara to agree had somehow become the most important thing he’d ever done in his life. Her future depended on it.
Mara glanced around the restaurant and then at Jared as he looked over the menu. She didn’t need to look. She knew Sullivan’s menu by heart.
Maybe I should have taken Jared to Tony’s restaurant. He definitely doesn’t look like he belongs at a table with mismatched chairs and pictures everywhere of men holding up big fish.
God, Jared Sinclair was beautiful. He exuded power and confidence, even when he was looking at a damn menu. The auburn highlights in his chestnut hair appeared to almost glow in the dim light of the casual restaurant, and he just looked so damned . . . polished. It didn’t matter that he was dressed fairly casually. He radiated control, sophistication, and dominance wherever he was, and no matter how he was dressed. It appeared to be as natural to him as taking his next breath, and that aura of strength was nearly impossible to ignore.
A teenage waiter took their order, and Jared sat back in his chair, his elbows on the table, watching her. “I’d like to get this business deal out of the way.” He released a deep breath. “You’re right in saying that I’m not doing it for the money. Obviously, I don’t need more money. I want to do it to bring out your products to the masses. They’re pretty incredible, and it will be a challenge and something different for me. I don’t know much about making a business of consumables successful, but I’ll learn. And I can help you with the marketing process and the business end of things.”
Mara scrutinized him, noticing that his eyes lit up
at the possibility of a challenge. “Why me? There are tons of small businesses trying to get a foothold.” And any one of them would kill to have the backing of a Sinclair.
Jared shrugged. “I like you. And believe me, that’s a novelty for me. I don’t like very many people other than my family.”
“Why?”
“Because most of them want something from me. You don’t, which fascinates me.”
Mara gaped at him, wondering what kind of world he lived in where he didn’t have anybody who cared about him as a person. “You don’t have friends? People that you trust other than your siblings?”
Jared’s expression turned dark. “Not since right after college. I learned from those mistakes.”
“You trusted somebody who burned you,” Mara guessed. Someone had hurt Jared Sinclair . . . badly. She winced inwardly at just how much some person must have betrayed him. It was obvious he’d never fully trusted anyone except his family again. “I’m sorry.” She wanted to ask who it was, and what they’d done to him, but she didn’t know him well enough to pry. It was obvious he’d never quite healed from the betrayal.
His eyes burned hot as their gazes locked. “Why? You didn’t do anything.”
Yet.
Mara could almost hear the word hanging at the end of his sentence. “Nobody deserves to have their trust in another person shattered. It hurts.”
“I got over it a long time ago,” Jared snapped.
Mara shook her head slowly, not breaking eye contact with him. “I don’t think you have.” In fact, she was pretty certain that he was still bitter. It showed in his lack of trust, his unwillingness to allow people into his controlled little world.
Jared smiled at her cynically. “Are you attempting to be my friend, Mara?”
“What if I am?” She wasn’t sure what she was doing. All she could feel was the urgency to make sure that Jared Sinclair could trust someone other than his family again. There was a hidden sorrow somewhere inside him. She could sense it, and it was eating at her.