Battling the Billionaire Page 5

  “Getting you out of those clothes, for starters.”

  Reuben whooped. “I guess all this worked after all.”

  Devon gave her a devilish grin. “It’s a little soon, don’t you think?”

  “You know what I meant,” Jenna said sternly, ignoring the blush that crept up her neck. She hurried over to a rack of men’s pants. “What do you think? Khakis?”

  “No. Denim.” Reuben started sorting through a rack of jeans.

  “And a nice, fitted tee,” Mrs. Bevins said, looking at Devon with interest, as if she could imagine it already.

  “I don’t get a say in this?” Devon looked at the old woman and backed up a little, looking more nervous than ever.

  “Did I get a say when you picked out a house and moved my mother into it?” Jenna wanted to kick herself at the flirtatious tone that had crept into her voice.

  “That’s not the same thing.”

  “Still.” She picked up a mustard yellow polyester polo, holding it out as if considering how it would look on him. With a pair of cotton pajama bottoms, or maybe a kilt, the effect would be completely humiliating. The corners of her lips turned up sharply as she considered it.

  “Please don’t make me wear that.” Devon hurried over and grabbed the shirt out of her hand. “It’s not my color. Can I interest you in another house?”

  Jenna enjoyed the look of panic that flashed in his eyes. “There you go again. But you’re not buying your way out of this. Thrift store clothes aren’t going to kill you.”

  “That particular shirt might. But you don’t know me as well as you think you do. I wore my share of beat-up clothing abroad.”

  “Ah, yes. The rugged traveler. That must have been nice.” Bitterness seeped into her voice at the thought of him exploring exotic locations while her mom could barely leave her bed.

  Something that looked like hurt or shame flashed across his face. She turned away, almost regretting her words as she sorted through the rack again. One date with a not-bad-looking billionaire in exchange for the look of peace on her mother’s face was not a bad deal. She could probably cut down on the insults.

  Jenna grabbed a hunter green henley and held it up to Devon, a gesture of peace. The color looked good with his warm brown eyes and dark hair. She paused, her knuckles brushing against his firm chest, and the moment suddenly felt too intimate, like they were a married couple shopping together. “This is your color.” There was a rasp in her voice as she quickly draped the shirt over his shoulder.

  “I found the jeans,” Reuben shouted. He hurried over with a dark pair of jeans. They had a couple of holes, giving them just the right look. “Think they’ll fit?”

  Devon glanced at the tag. “Good guess.” He took the clothes and headed into the changing rooms.

  “What size shoe do you wear?” Jenna asked.

  “Eleven and a half.”

  “I’ll find some shoes you can’t see your reflection in.”

  When he came out Mrs. Bevins clasped her hands together. “Just right,” she said. “Almost.” She bustled over and plopped an old-fashioned men’s hat onto his head. “Howard used to wear one just like that.” The old woman smoothed the shirt, her hand stopping on his shoulder. She glanced over at Jenna, her brows raised. “You should feel his shoulder,” she whispered loudly. “Very muscular.”

  The corner of Jenna’s mouth turned up. To Devon’s credit, he left the hat just where it was. He sat down to put on the shoes.

  “I guess I’d like to donate a suit now,” Devon said, handing her the suit.

  She’d never felt fabric that slid over her skin the way that suit did, lightweight and yet strong. “I’m sure someone would be very happy to have it.” She paused. “Are you sure? I mean, this must be worth thousands of dollars.”

  “I’ve already worn it once.”

  Jenna’s jaw dropped.

  He grinned as he picked up a large vase of flowers. “Just kidding.”

  Jenna waved to her replacement as she followed Devon to the door, but Devon paused suddenly, looking at Reuben and jerking his head. “Look,” he said, quietly, “they get kind of cranky at Alastaire’s if you don’t make it for your reservation.” He struggled to keep hold of the vase as he reached into his pocket. He pulled out his wallet and took out a few large bills. “Maybe you have someone special to take?”

  “Oh, I couldn’t do that,” Reuben said, waving his hands.

  “Consider it a tip.” Devon stuck the cash into Reuben’s shirt pocket before heading out the door.

  Chapter 8

  Devon

  “That was a nice thing to do,” Jenna’s eyes held suspicion, as if she didn’t believe Devon would do something nice for no reason. She probably thought he had an angle. Maybe he did. Maybe there was part of him that wanted to impress her.

  Was that why he’d sent all the flowers? He’d gotten caught up in the idea, thinking of the way she’d smile when she got one arrangement after another. But afterwards he’d wanted to kick himself. If he didn’t want to get too involved, or hurt her feelings, why would he make such an over-the-top gesture? He would be surprised if expensive gestures like that did anything for a girl like Jenna, anyway.

  He watched her as she turned to look out the window. Her hair was falling out of a messy bun, and her worn jeans and wrinkled work shirt were in sharp contrast to the impeccable leather seats of the limo. Devon smiled, loving it, and not because his father wouldn’t have approved. He wished he had more hard-working, morally sound people in his life. He’d be the lucky one to have a woman like Jenna. But she’d probably be happier if he was being dragged behind the vehicle.

  “What can I say?” he said. “You inspire me.”

  She looked at him, her expression clouded with doubt.

  “I saw the way those people responded to you. Do you make friends out of all your customers and delivery people?” he asked.

  “I think they responded to you pretty enthusiastically. And it’s not so hard when you really pay attention, when you see people.”

  “That’s what I’m talking about. People in my life don’t do that.”

  “Maybe it makes it easier to do their jobs.” Her voice was quiet, but Devon got her meaning loud and clear. She was convinced his company was hurting people.

  “I’m sorry,” Jenna said quietly. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  Jenna twisted her fingers together in her lap, biting her lip as if holding back from saying more. If there was one thing Devon hated about all this, it was that she felt so obligated. Obligated to keep her mouth shut because of what he’d done for her, when she didn’t even know how badly he deserved telling off.

  He’d never felt so pathetic. Here was a girl who’d humiliated him, and who’d rather be anywhere than sitting next to him. Yet he could barely resist the urge to tip his knees, so they might brush against hers. The circumstances were very different from their first meeting, but he felt the same desire to know her, to tell her things he didn’t tell anyone else. He felt the same attraction.

  Jenna made her way to the front, where she slid the little glass window aside, and gave an address to the driver.

  “So where are we going?” Devon asked. With Jenna, he almost felt the unpredictability and freedom of traveling again. He never knew what she was going to do and, so far, it always turned out interesting, to say the least.

  “If I didn’t let you keep the clothes, do you think I’m going to let you ride around in a limo?”

  “Are we giving it away?” He waited, earnestly anticipating her answer. If she said to give the limo away, he’d do it. Everything he’d done since he met her had felt right.

  “For the night. For now.” As she sat back down, she gave him a sly grin that felt like a magnet, pulling him toward her. But he didn’t dare get too close.

  A few minutes later they pulled up to a small, shabby house. Jenna grabbed the large vase of flowers before getting out of the limo, refusing Devon’s offer of assistance. He s
miled, walking behind her as she struggled to carry it down the walk.

  Jenna managed to ring the bell, shifting the weight of the vase until the door opened.

  Her friend from the party stood in the open doorway. “What are you doing? Is it our friend-aversary?” Then she saw Devon, and her jaw literally dropped open.

  “What is he doing here?” She grinned. “Hey, buddy, I saw your picture. You look great in red.”

  “I hate to tell you this, but I look great in pretty much everything.” He smiled back, hoping she wouldn’t throw the heavy vase at him.

  She looked taken aback, then grinned and nodded, as if she approved of his response.

  “Come on, take this,” Jenna said. “It’s heavy.”

  Her friend took it. “That is gorgeous. Did you steal it from a hotel lobby? Is it cause you owe me?”

  “I don’t owe you. I was Winnifred, so we’re even.” Jenna turned, gesturing toward Devon. “As you know, this is Devon Ward.”

  Devon hurried forward, not sure what to do seeing as how Tali’s hands were currently full of flowers.

  “This is Tali,” Jenna said. “She’s going to lend us her Taurus tonight.”

  “I am?” Tali asked, confused.

  “Yes, and in return she gets the limo for the night.”

  Tali beamed. “I am! Let me get the keys.

  Tali disappeared, coming back with a key ring that was crowded with sparkling trinkets. Jenna gave her a quick hug.

  “Wait,” Tali called as they were getting into the car. “Are there any cameras ... in the limo?”

  Devon squinted one eye, confused. “No.”

  Tali grinned. “Great. And don’t think we’re not going to talk about what just happened, Jenna.”

  Devon glanced at Jenna, a little nervous about what Tali planned to do in his limo, before sliding into the driver’s seat of the Taurus. He couldn’t believe Jenna had allowed him to drive. It gave him at least a small sense of being in control of the situation, even though he knew he wasn’t.

  When they pulled into the trailer park, Devon glanced over at Jenna. She was looking up at the new metal sign that arched over the entrance. He tried to read her expression, hoping she liked it, but she just looked confused.

  “What’s all this?” she asked, pointing to the row of trees that had just been planted on either side of the lane. “And where are all the pot-holes? Someone—” She jerked her head toward him. “You did this.”

  “Are you mad?”

  Her brow furrowed. “I’m just—”

  “Are you the only one who can do nice things? Like how you gave away all the flowers I bought you?”

  “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” she mumbled. “That was a ridiculous amount of flowers.”

  “True,” he said. “And you didn’t hurt my feelings.” He felt a warm rush of embarrassment, followed by a hint of irritation. He’d never tried so hard to win a woman’s approval. To be honest, he’d never had to. And why should he have to explain himself? He’d felt like putting a little money into a trailer park. It was just a standard neighborhood beautification project. It cost him pocket change. He knew people who donated to that type of thing all the time. Just not for trailer parks.

  He pulled the car up to Jenna’s trailer. When she got out of the car, he hesitated.

  “It’s okay,” she said. “You can come in. I’m not mortified just because you live in a palace and I live in a single-wide.”

  Devon felt heat creep up his neck again. “I didn’t think—” He sighed heavily. Maybe he had thought that. He hadn’t expected her to call him on it. Since his return home, he’d just constantly been surrounded by the kind of people who never stopped comparing what they had to what the person next to them had.

  As they walked toward the house an older woman in a pink and green house dress stopped them. She embraced Jenna, all the while inspecting Devon over her shoulder.

  “How’s your mother?” she asked Jenna.

  “She’s great, Gertie. I’ve never seen her so happy. She’s reading.” Jenna’s smile was radiant. She looked as if the weight of the day, of her life, had fallen off her shoulders.

  Warmth spread through Devon’s chest. It was probably wrong, but he felt a surge of pride, as if he’d accomplished the most important work of his life: making her smile.

  Jenna turned, looking at him under her lashes, as if she was uncomfortable. “Have you met Devon Ward? He’s the one we have to thank for it.” She gestured around the park. “For all of this.”

  Gertie raised her painted-on brows. “What did you do to get this sexy bag of bills into that tiny fist of yours?”

  Devon laughed as Jenna blushed. She gave Gertie a little shove. “He’s not—he and I—we have a business arrangement.”

  “Sure, honey.” Gertie cackled, heading to her car.

  “A business arrangement, huh?” he whispered over her shoulder.

  “Yeah, it’s none of her business.”

  Devon grinned.

  Jenna turned around, poking her finger into his chest, and the grin fell away. Mostly because she was touching him.

  “And don’t go thinking this is anything but business.”

  He swallowed.

  “You righted a wrong,” she said. “Sure, you went really overboard, and I’m more grateful than I can say.” Her eyes grew misty, saturating the blue. “But that doesn’t mean I owe you anything, or that I trust you. I agreed to be your ... charitable donations advisor.”

  “Oh, is that what you are? I’ll have business cards made.”

  Devon followed her into the trailer. He sat down on the couch as Jenna pulled a blue shirt out of a beat-up chest of drawers.

  “You just going to hang out here in my bedroom while I change?”

  Devon started, his hand patting the couch. “This is—”

  “My bed, yeah.”

  He stood up quickly. “I’m sorry.”

  She gave him a mischievous smile as she pulled out a pair of jeans. “I’m just messing with you. I mean, it is my bed, but I can change in my mom’s room.”

  She disappeared, leaving Devon standing there trying not to think about what was going on in the other room. He looked around, wondering if this place would tell him something about Jenna. There were a few photos, her mom beside a man that was probably her dad, she and her mom together. They looked a lot younger. There were a few articles of clothing flung around the room. It didn’t look like a home so much as a place where someone landed. He wondered how long she’d been in survival mode.

  Jenna came out in snug-fitting jeans and the blue shirt, which intensified the color of her eyes. She tugged the elastic out of her hair, then started brushing it, like a wave of gold over her shoulder. She ran her hands through, settling it so it fell the right way. When she caught Devon’s eye, he turned away quickly, warm with embarrassment again.

  “You got to pick out my clothes,” he said. “Why didn’t I get to pick out yours? Not that you don’t look nice.”

  “Wouldn’t have mattered. Everything around here looks like it came from a thrift shop.” There was humor in her tone, and she paused. “Actually, I’m pretty sure it did.”

  He dared to look at her again, and gave her his most charming smile. “That black dress you wore the other night with the red heels didn’t look half-bad.”

  “That was Tali’s,” she said, looking as if the compliment had taken her off guard. “The shoes were my mom’s. From her dancing days.”

  Devon heard the sadness in her voice. “Who knows? Maybe she’ll dance again.”

  Her eyes smiled at him. “Maybe. Anything seems possible now.”

  Her words warmed him. He felt almost hopeful, like maybe she wouldn’t hate him forever. “I bet your mom misses you. Why don’t you move in with her?”

  She glared at him, and he knew he’d gone too far. “That’s between the two of us. And where I live is my choice.”

  He suddenly felt sorry that he’d made her mak
e this choice, between her pride and her love for her mom. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I should have talked to you before moving your mom. I just didn’t know how you’d react. I mean, it’s a lot to accept—for someone like you.”

  “Someone like me?” she said, stepping closer to him.

  “Yeah. You work hard. You’re proud. And you’re cautious. I don’t blame you for not trusting me.”

  She nibbled a little on her bottom lip. Devon couldn’t keep his eyes from lingering there for a moment before breaking away and heading toward the door.

  Chapter 9

  Jenna

  Jenna glanced over at Devon, enjoying the perplexed look on his face as they sat parked in front of a brown brick building in an area of town that was even shabbier than her own.

  “Is this a hostage situation?” He smiled. “You should know, no one cares enough about me enough to pay up.”

  “Good to know. I’ll tell Tali it’s off.” She laughed, nodding toward the building as she got out of the car.

  Devon followed close behind as she headed toward the back door of the building. “Gertie mentioned earlier that she needed a hand at the soup kitchen tonight,” she said. “If there’s enough to go around, they might even feed us as a little thank you when we’re done. I know it’s not the exotic fare you’re used to, but Gertie has quite a knack for turning day-old bread and unwanted canned veggies into a pretty decent meal.”

  If she was lucky, this is the point at which Devon would run away and never bother her again. But there was a chance he’d meant what he’d said about wanting to be a better man. She was about to find out.

  Devon followed her in. The scents of chicken broth and herbs drifted toward them as she hurried to grab a couple pairs of plastic gloves.

  Gertie bustled toward them. “Oh, good, you made it! You two can work the serving line. I’m almost finished with this soup.” She dumped a can of corn into one of two big pots. Her brow furrowed. “We’re short staffed and even shorter on food. I’m afraid we’re going to have to close up early and send folks away.”