Wedding His Takeover Target / Inheriting His Secret Christmas Baby: Wedding His Takeover Target. Emilie Rose
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“That wasn’t a challenge. I’m sure you’re a nice guy, but I just don’t have time for a social life right now. There’s too much to do before the season starts. Go play with one of your lodge bunnies.”
“I’m not interested in lodge guests. I’m interested in you.”
Her stomach flip-flopped at the intensity of his gaze and his low, gravelly tone. She shook her head. “Good-bye, Gavin.”
She fumbled behind her for the doorknob, but the door swung open before she could locate the brass orb.
“Don’t keep the man out in the cold, Sabrina. Invite him in,” her grandfather said.
Denial screamed through her. “Pops, Gavin has to g—”
“Thanks, Henry, I appreciate it.” Gavin overrode her objection and moved forward, forcing Sabrina to scramble out of his path. Now what?
The three of them stood in the foyer with an odd, expectant tension she didn’t understand stretching between them. Sabrina could feel Gavin’s and her grandfather’s gazes on her. She didn’t know what they were looking for and she couldn’t come up with an acceptable excuse to escape.
Gavin shifted his attention to Pops. “I’m trying to convince Sabrina to join me for dinner.”
Her grandfather nodded. “Good idea. I have a hankering for leftover pot roast, so there’s no need for her to cook tonight.”
“Pops,” Sabrina squeaked in protest. “I’ve explained to Gavin that I have too much to do getting ready for our guests.”
“Not if I hire that handyman you insisted on to help with your to-do list.” Pops looked at Gavin. “Know anybody who’s skilled with power tools and has a few hours to spare each day over the next three weeks?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. Me.”
“No,” Sabrina all but shouted on a wave of panic. “We’re going to hire someone local. Someone who needs the work.” She shot her grandfather a warning look—to which he seemed oblivious.
Gavin shrugged, splaying his big hands, palms up. “I need the work. Not financially, but because I’m going stir-crazy up at The Ridge with nothing to do. We already have a full staff. They don’t need me. I’ll donate whatever salary you intended to pay to the charity of your choice.”
“Well, ain’t that nice.” Pops sounded far too smug for Sabrina’s liking.
“I’d rather hire a local, Pops.”
Gavin smiled. “I am a local, Aspen born and bred.”
She gritted her teeth. “You know what I mean. There are unemployed people in town who actually need the income.”
Pops clapped Gavin on the shoulder. “Glad to have your help. And if you two aren’t going out tonight you can stay for dinner. By the time I finish going over Sabrina’s list with you, she should have something ready. She’s a pretty good cook. My Colleen taught her.”
Sabrina wanted to scream. The only thing she wanted to cook up for Gavin Jarrod was food poisoning. “I’m sure Gavin has better things to do.”
“My evening’s free,” the pig-headed rat replied with an innocent expression she didn’t buy for one second. “Henry, show me that list, and we’ll see what tools and supplies we’ll need. I can be at the builder’s supply store tomorrow morning as soon as they unlock their doors.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” her grandfather said before turning and heading for his study with a spring in his step Sabrina hadn’t seen in a while.
Having Gavin underfoot for three weeks sounded like a disaster to her, and the glint in his eyes as he smiled at her made it clear he knew he was irritating the daylights out of her—and was loving every second of it. He followed her grandfather. If she’d had her grandmother’s cast-iron skillet in hand, Sabrina would have hurled it at his head.
For her grandfather’s sake and to get the work done that the inn desperately needed, she would endure Gavin’s company. But that was it. There would be no more dates.
And there definitely wouldn’t be any more kisses.
“I took Sabrina to the mine,” Gavin told Henry as the old man rifled through the slips of paper piled on his desk.
Henry’s chin popped up. He examined Gavin over the top of his gold-rimmed bifocals. “Why in tarnation would you do that?”
“She wouldn’t go out with me until I bribed her. Is she always that stubborn?”
“If she’s strong-willed it’s because life’s made her that way. Ain’t necessarily a bad thing. Reminds me of my Colleen. In my day we called it ‘grit,’ and we wanted our women to have it. The ones who lacked it didn’t last long.”
The declaration raised red flags. Gavin had kept Sabrina at the mine for an extra hour, showing her through the tunnels, explaining the mining process and subtly grilling her, but getting information out of her was damn near impossible.
“What made Sabrina tough?”
“You’ll have to figure that out yourself. I’m not making it easy for you. Hiring you to help with the inn’s as far as I’ll go. If you want her you’ll have to work to woo her, and I won’t lie and tell you it’ll be easy. But we agreed to keep the whys and wherefores of this deal between us. You breaking your word already, Jarrod?”
“No, sir. I intend to be as honest with Sabrina as possible and still keep to our agreement. I told her you’d agreed to sell me the land, but not the conditions of the sale.”
Caldwell drilled him with a hard stare. “Guess that’s fair enough. Once you sign the marriage license, I’ll sign the deed.”
Henry extracted a piece of paper and passed it to Gavin. Neat, loopy, girly script covered the page. Sabrina’s. Gavin scanned down the list. Nothing major. “This won’t take three weeks.”
“Then you’d better work slow on the chores and fast on Sabrina.”
What choice did he have with the winter freeze approaching and the old man’s obstinacy? Gavin knew if he didn’t seal this deal soon, he’d have to wait until next spring to break ground. Postponing meant staying longer in Aspen, and that wasn’t going to happen. For his siblings’ sakes he’d stay his year, but not a day more.
The old man chuckled. “Gotta admit, this is gonna be fun to watch.”
Four
It was hard to remember a day Sabrina had dreaded as much as she did this one. She shuffled toward the kitchen Wednesday morning, intent on preparing breakfast, leaving it on the buffet and getting out of the way before Gavin arrived.
Last night she’d taken the coward’s way out by claiming the necessity of paying bills. She’d put dinner on the table for the men and then retired to her office to pick at her meal at her desk. Avoiding Gavin wouldn’t be as easy today.
At the sound of male voices, she stopped abruptly in the back hall. She identified Pops’s then Gavin’s and her stomach sank. He was already here. She checked her watch. Six-thirty. Pulse accelerating, she backed out. A floorboard squeaked beneath her foot, betraying her presence. She cringed.
“Coffee’s ready, girlie. C’mon in,” her grandfather called.
Ugh. Trapped. She debated ignoring the summons, but she’d be darned if she’d let Gavin Jarrod think her a coward. Squaring her shoulders, she fluffed her damp hair, took a deep breath and marched forward.
The men sat at the table, her grandfather with his paper, Gavin with a mug cradled between his big hands. He looked good in a white turtleneck that showed off his tan. His light brown hair looked like a snowboarder’s after a lightning-fast run down the mountain. The mussed strands seemed somehow sexy.
No.