MINUTES LATER, Jet couldn’t keep the smile from his face as he exited the elevator amid a crowd of fellow office dwellers. It was a beautiful day in the neighborhood, and if he were honest with himself, he itched to get on a horse.
Those days are over.
No, he silently promised himself. He wasn’t going to give up rodeo. And he was getting to do something he loved today. Fly.
But as Jet waited for Jasmine to arrive in front of Baron Energies’ corporate offices, he knew he kidded himself. It wasn’t just the thought of flying, it was the thought of spending time with Jasmine.
Showing off.
Well, yes, there was that, too.
She was as prickly as a pear cactus, but as his father had noted, as pretty as a Texas bluebonnet, and she sure looked as if she needed a little fun. As it happened, fun was his middle name.
“Let’s get this over with.”
He hadn’t seen her approach. When he turned, he admitted she didn’t appear too pleased to be getting away from the office. For half a second he debated whether or not he should let her off the hook. Something stopped him, something that had to do with the exhaustion he saw in her eyes. She struck him as the type who would keep going and going until she dropped, or ended up in the hospital. Twins. That couldn’t be easy.
“No need to sound so enthusiastic.” He smiled to take the sting out of his words. She’d pulled her hair back in a ponytail. She’d changed, too, though he had no idea where she’d gotten the jeans and white button-down shirt. He wouldn’t be human if he didn’t admit he liked the dress better, and her long, sexy legs.
“How long is this going to take?” she asked as he held the door of his truck open for her. He’d parked outside their corporate headquarters situated in downtown Dallas and conveniently located just a few blocks from a DART station. They occupied the uppermost floors, and Jet had the oddest sensation of being watched as he stood there.
Dad?
He glanced up, wondering if both Brock and Lizzie stared down at him. He wouldn’t be surprised. He’d sent her an email about his outing today, and while it was a task he undertook regularly, the inspection wasn’t due for another month. She hadn’t replied. Then again, she’d probably been hijacked by their father the moment Brock had left Jet’s office.
“Not more than an hour or two. Our holdings aren’t that extensive.”
He closed the door before she could form some kind of protest or express her displeasure at being taken away from her work. He had to wait a moment for traffic to pass on the busy street in front of their offices. When he pulled open the driver’s door a moment later she appeared to be checking messages on her phone. Probably their corporate email.
“Do you ever, I don’t know, relax?”
The glare she shot him was like that of an impatient wife, one who’d just been told by her husband to sit down and take a break from chores when she had a million things to do, all of which were being done by her and not her husband. He’d seen that look a time or two before on his own stepmother’s face when dealing with Brock.
“I have two kids and a full-time job in a demanding field. When, exactly, would I find time to relax?”
He drew back at the sharpness of her tone. She must have seen his reaction because she closed her eyes, sank back against the seat and let out a sigh.
“Sorry,” she said softly. “I’m a little sleep deprived. Makes me cranky.”
“Me, too.”
She opened her eyes again, staring out at the high-rise buildings they passed between, some made of concrete, others made of glass, all of them with people walking out in front. He heard her sigh.
Inside the cab, sunlight flickered through the trees that sprouted up from the sidewalk here and there. The streets were wide, some of the sidewalks made of red brick, but he doubted she noticed such details. Honestly, he would bet what she was really thinking about was a nap.
“Do you have any help at home?”
It was the closest he could come to asking if she was seeing anybody without sounding nosy, or like he was trying to pick her up. Contrary to what his dad might think, he had no intention of getting involved with a woman who had twins. No thanks. Not his cup of tea. Still, he felt sorry for her, watched her closely to see if she would bristle, but she didn’t. Instead, she just shook her head, her ponytail shifting over one shoulder and from nowhere came the urge to brush it back, to soothe her brow.
Jet abruptly faced forward.
“I used to have some help.”
Her words surprised him because he figured she’d clam up like she always did.
“The twins’ grandparents are still alive and they’ve been a big support, but engineering jobs don’t grow on trees and so when I was offered the position at Baron Energies, I took it.”
The twins’ grandparents, meaning her girls’ father’s parents. He knew her own dad was dead. Her mother, too. Or so he surmised from the way his dad had made it sound. Did that mean she was all alone? What had happened to the twins’ dad?
“I take it the father isn’t in the picture.”
They were at a stoplight and so he happened to glance at her just in time to see her flinch, almost as if she’d just had a sharp pain, and maybe she had.
“No,” was all she said.
Something in her past caused her pain, and he had a feeling it was grief. Sure, he knew some men were irresponsible jerks and that it was completely plausible that she’d been ditched by the father of her twins, but he didn’t think so. There’d been something in her eyes, her remarkable eyes, that he suddenly realized were tinged by a perpetual sadness.
“So who watches your twins when you’re at work?”
She seemed to snap out of a momentary trance. He noticed how long her lashes were when she blinked.
“I hired someone. A woman in my condominium complex. She was looking to make some extra money and I didn’t want to be shuffling my girls between their home and a day-care center. She comes to my place every morning.”
“I bet you wish she would come in the middle of the night sometimes, too.”
She glanced at him in surprise, but then something remarkable happened, something that left him feeling as if he’d been kicked in the gut.
She smiled.
“You have no idea.”
She’d revealed too much, Jasmine thought a few minutes later. She should have kept things impersonal. Chatted about Baron Energies’ last quarterly report or something. Instead, she’d treated him like a Catholic priest, someone to confess all her dirty little secrets to, and that was the stupidest thing in the world to do. He was the boss’s son. A man who
