girl and her mother.” An upside-down V formed above the bridge of Chase’s nose. “What do you get out of all of this?”
“I get to help someone I care about,” she said, feeling guilty for thinking he had ulterior motives. “Someone who’s in no position to do it all on her own.”
“We’re not so different, Jane Dawson.”
She begged to disagree, but couldn’t. Not when his sincere tone told Jane he meant every word. And that meant she had not only found a sponsor, but real help.
Realization that she’d succeeded pummeled her with the force of a howling blast of icy wind from the Columbia River Gorge. She had everything she wanted. Everything plus more.
Thanks to Chase Ryder.
“What?” he asked.
“I…I’m…” Feeling inadequate, yet grateful, she shifted in her chair. Wrung her hands. Tried to remain seated so she wouldn’t run over to Chase and hug him. Not that she wanted to hug him. Just thank him. “Is your name really Kris Kringle?”
“No.” Chase laughed. “Though I dressed up like Santa Claus for my sister’s kids last year.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.” Jane pictured Chase wearing a white beard and red suit and being surrounded by laughing children, but then she imagined herself kissing Santa, rather Chase. That would definitely complicate matters. Blinking the image away, she resolved to remain strictly focused on the benefit. No more daydreaming and no more handholding. “So when can I see this winery of yours?”
He glanced at his watch. No doubt he had to get back to the office. “How about now?”
She gulped. “Sure.”
Driving south on Interstate 5 with the pounding bass from a rock and roll song filling the Escalade’s interior, Chase glanced sideways at Jane. She stared at the passing scenery—concrete, buildings and billboards—her mouth tightly closed.
So much for putting a smile back on her face and a sparkle in her eyes. He had assumed offering his assistance would do the trick, but that had only upset her more. He didn’t get it. Or her. Most women watched his every move, tried to impress him or boost his ego. But not Jane.
“If you want to listen to something different—” he drove onto the I-205 off-ramp “—let me know.”
“Thanks,” she said. “But this music is fine.”
Another mile went by. Another song played. Jane continued gazing out the window. No forced conversation trying to find common interests. No name-dropping trying to show she belonged in his world. No…anything.
Needless chatter bothered Chase, but he found her silence both refreshing and bewildering. Other women would have talked his ears off. Why wasn’t Jane doing the same?
Sure she wasn’t his usual type. He dated professional women—lawyers, executives, venture capitalists—who weren’t clingy and who had their money, though that hadn’t kept most from wanting his, too. But Jane was still a woman. And he was a man, a rich, handsome man considered to be a “catch” if he believed his own press. Shouldn’t she be flirting with him at least a little? Was she not interested in him or playing hard to get?
He would get the chance to find out.
Maybe that would compensate for the work he’d volunteered for with the fundraiser. He wanted to help the little girl, but now after the reality had set in, Chase had no idea how to make this work. He had projects to oversee, an upcoming merger and a two-foot stack of papers on his desk.
Wait until his best friend found out what he had done.
You’re a sucker for a pretty face.
Sam’s words had been dead-on this time, and he would never let Chase live it down.
“Nice car.” Jane ran her hand along the edge of her leather seat. “It’s more comfortable than my couch.”
He noticed her trimmed but unpolished fingernails. Practical, like Jane herself. “That’s a Cadillac for you, but you should see how it handles off-road.”
“Why would you take a luxury car off-road?”
He picked up the disapproval in her voice. His normal answer “because I can” wasn’t going to cut it. He would settle for the truth.
“I tried a shortcut once and ended up on forest service road then found myself on a logging road.” He patted the dashboard. “It was a little hairy, but the car came through fine. I doubt I’ll do it again, though.”
“Smart move.”
“You’re right.” Finally he had her attention. Good. Now he had to keep it. “That’s why I bought a four-wheel drive truck. And a couple of dirt bikes.”
“How many cars do you have?”
“Six,” he said proudly.
“Six.” She didn’t sound impressed.
“Not counting the dirt bikes, a motorcycle and two race cars.” He focused on the road. A white pickup pulled a horse-trailer ahead of them. “The race cars aren’t street legal.”
“So do you spin a wheel to see which one of the six cars you’ll drive each day?”
He couldn’t decide if she was being sarcastic or humorous. He would try funny. “No, I reach into a bag and pull out a key.”
Her grin reached her eyes, but no sparkle. Damn, he was hoping to get both with one shot.
“You could use a dartboard,” she said.
“My throwing precision would remove the element of Fate.”
“Not if you closed your eyes.”
There. Not quite a sparkle, but he glimpsed a twinkle in her eyes. Something stirred inside him. Something good, but unfamiliar. “Is that what you would do?”
She laughed, and the warm sound sunk into him. “If I thought I had six cars, my eyes would be closed because I would be dreaming.”
The more he learned about Jane, the more he wanted to know. He exited on Stafford Road and turned right. “What do you drive?”
“I take Metro, either the bus or the MAX train depending on where I am, where I need to go and when.” She touched the leather seat once again. “It’s not so bad.”
Not bad at all. Chase wondered what it would feel like if Jane stroked him like that with her fingertips and hand. The scene forming in his mind sent his temperature rising.
She glanced over at him. “Not as nice a ride as this, but it gets me there.”
“With the scrape of brakes and the crunch of bodies.”
“It’s not that crowded, but…” She pursed her lips. “How did you know?”
He hadn’t always driven a
