Prove Me Wrong (3 page)

              “No,” he said, a slow smile pulling at his lips. “I think I’m planning on staying awhile. Know a good place I could crash at?”

              My heart skipped a beat.

Chapter
Three
Jonah

              I watched as Clara helped a customer find the right nails he needed to fix a broken dresser.

              Standing behind the small counter of Mackleson’s Hardware Store, I felt a little awkward and useless. Give me a business merger worth several hundreds of millions of dollars and I will have that deal closed within an hour. But put me in a small town where the residents seemed as comfortable talking about family fights and neighborhood gossip as they are about caulk and nails and I clam up like a shell.

              David Lowell was not one for any kind of personal talk, especially with his stepson. Never once did he enquire about how I was doing in school or what my plans were for the weekend. Every meeting with him felt just like that—a meeting.

              Of course, it wasn’t as if it had been that different with my mother.

              I grimaced. It was never a pleasant feeling to remember my parents.

              Clara’s laughter cut through my thoughts. I watched as she laughed along with whatever joke the customer was cracking.

              When I had caught her on the street with Geoff, she had been bundled up in a sweater and coat with the hood up. But now in Mackleson’s, she was wearing a loose flannel shirt and jeans and I could get a clear look at her.

              Looking at her, my most immediate thought was of a feather. There was something light and delicate to her. With golden honey hair that was tied loosely down her back, she looked fair and sweet. Her smooth skin and sweet lips only added to that image. Seeing her now, I had no trouble seeing why she had so much trouble with Geoff. She was as slender as a willow reed. There were definitely womanly curves but she was petite and fragile looking. I had noticed the swell of full breasts even though she wore loose clothes. She didn’t seem too worried about accentuating any of her assets.

              But as she began to talk, I realized a feather was the wrong comparison. She was no delicate little thing that would blow away with one wisp of air. She was strong as steel. She had a mind of her own and a mouth to match.

              My lips twitched remembering her first words to me when she had caught me staring on the sidewalk behind her and Geoff.

             
“Who the hell are you?”
she had huffed at me.

              Not many people would speak that way to a man who defined the billionaire set.

              Immediately, I had felt my body responding to her. There was an intelligence in those soft hazel eyes. It was an arresting combination—beauty, sass, and brains. I watched as Clara directed the customer to the hammer section. And talent. The girl was clearly talented as well. I had seen the bench she had made. It was deceptively simple looking but I could immediately see the skill and workmanship that had gone into it.

              I was pissed at Martin. He had been cold and controlling of me for years. He had never approved of my mother marrying into the Lowell family. He had never approved of me being adopted into the Lowell family. And now, he wanted to make sure this deal between DXC Global and Lowell Enterprises would go through, forever cementing him in my life so he could have access to all the Lowell family businesses.

              My mother was dead. David Lowell was dead. Couldn’t Martin just leave well enough alone and be happy with his own billions?

              But I knew that wasn’t the case. We were both ruthless businessmen and when we smelled a deal, we jumped on it. Except this time, the deal was me. Once Lowell Enterprises joined DXC Global, there would be no getting rid of Martin.

              I would forever be playing defense against that fucking bastard until one of us lost or died.

              So I had driven off, sick of the cloying atmosphere of New York City. Of Martin.

              My phone had been buzzing nonstop since I had left. I’m sure Mrs. Drune, my personal assistant, was expertly fielding most of my calls since my sudden disappearance. After many years with me, she was used to my impulsive actions and held her tongue for the most part since DXC was still thriving under my leadership.

              No, I knew most of the calls were from either Martin or Vanessa.

              I grimaced. Another reason to get away from New York. Vanessa was getting all too needy these days. She had her eyes set on a large diamond ring and a huge wedding of the century. But that was not what I wanted and her calls were the last thing I wanted to hear.

              So as soon as I had gotten a good look at Clara and her full lips and soft body, I had made up my mind. Irvington and Clara seemed like just what I needed. A few days away from the ruthless city with a small town and a soft body sounded like just the getaway I needed.

              I had spent nearly my entire life with women hanging on me at every turn. In college, parties had shut down when I had walked into the room. Son of a billionaire with the title of the ‘Model Millionaire’ in papers and magazines, I knew what kind of attention I drew and I knew exactly how to use it to my advantage.

              I had absolutely no doubt I could make Clara fall hard and fast for me.

              I sighed and leaned back on the wall, the small counter and register in front of me. I chuckled to myself.

              Well, Clara now had the distinction of proving one of the most successful businessmen in the world wrong.

              She had offered me her couch to sleep on until I could find better accommodations. I calculated that by the end of the day, the better accommodations would be in her bed.

              Then she had surprised me by saying if I intended to stay, I’d have to make myself useful.

              “You want me to work at a hardware store?” I repeated, incredulous.

              “That’s right, Mr. Lawrence,” she had said with firmness as she crossed her arms, giving me a direct yet adorable look. I had given her my middle name. She, along with the rest of Irvington, didn’t seem too familiar with my face. A miracle. I’m sure they had heard of the Lowell name but they didn’t seem to know the faces attached with the name.

              Wanting to enjoy a moment of anonymity, I had given her my middle name instead.

              “You’ll need to earn your keep,” she said, her hazel eyes fixed on me. “You can work with me at Mackleson’s while here. You won’t get paid since Alex wouldn’t hire someone who’s just passing through but I’ll give you meals and a place to sleep for your work.”             

              I raised a brow. “What’ll you be doing while I’m out doing all the grunt work at the store?”

              Clara gave me a smile so sweet it made my blood heat. “It’ll give me more time to work on my furniture.” She dropped her arms suddenly and her firm expression gave way to a conspiratorial look. “I have a big firm interested in my pieces. If they like them, they’ll help me look for buyers in the city.” She bit her lip, clearly a little nervous at the prospect. “So I need to get all my pieces into perfect condition before I shoot a sample catalogue and send it to them.”

              And with that, I found myself being introduced to Alex, owner of Mackleson’s. An older man with a big portly belly and a constant look of confusion just simply nodded at Clara when she explained my new role in the store.

              “Just know I don’t want any customers just wandering about not getting helped,” he had mumbled to Clara, his bushy gray brows knitted together in a look of perpetual confusion.

              “Of course, Alex,” Clara said soothingly. “You know I wouldn’t let that happen. Every single person will get our fullest attentions.”

              “I don’t like people just wandering about, messing up the aisles,” Alex continued, completely ignoring Clara’s words.

              But eventually through a combination of soft words and browbeating, Clara had secured my position in the store.

              The woman was unstoppable.

              I jerked up as the bell above the door rang. The customer Clara had been helping had left, a paper bag full of nails in his hands.

              “Hey, he didn’t pay,” I said, straightening up.

              Clara waved a hand at me in dismissal. “Oh, George forgot his wallet again. He’ll pay the next time he comes in.” She seemed absolutely unconcerned about this loosey goosey form of business transactions.

              “I don’t think that’s the most efficient way to run a business,” I said, leaning one hand on the counter as she stood in front of me, organizing some old papers and equipment catalogues.

              She turned suddenly, her eyes alight with amusement. “Oh no?” she replied. “A drifter
and
a business expert, are we? I don’t see you with your own hardware store, Mr. Fancy.”

              I pressed my lips in amusement, tempted to tell her about the drilling companies we owned in South America and Northern Africa, a type of hardware in a way, but was able to stop myself.

              “You know, you really should learn a bit about handiwork,” she said, turning back to the yellowing catalogues. “It’s not very manly of you to not know the difference between a Phillips head and a Frearson.”

              My first project in business school had been purchasing a dying drill manufacturing plant to restructure and revitalize it. The plan had been so good, the actual head of the company had implemented it, offering me a job in the bargain as well.

              The screwdriver heads she had in this store were probably made from that very factory.

              But I enjoyed hearing her talk and my body heated whenever she was being playful with me. I wanted distraction and holy hell, did Clara Daniels deliver on that front.

              I lightly pressed my body against her, feeling the hardness of my muscles touch the softness of her body. I heard the short gasping intake of air as we touched.

              “Then why don’t you show me,” I said lowly to her, enjoying the soft pink that suffused across her cheeks.

              Clara froze for a moment before gathering herself and clearing her throat. I had to hand it to her. Of all the women I had teased and flirted with, Clara had the quickest rebound time. Nothing threw her off for too long.

              She turned her head and looked up at me. “Hope you have a pencil and pad. You should be taking notes.” And with that she hopped off towards an aisle.

             
Why that little....
I huffed a laugh. Oh that little brat was full of smart ass replies. I felt my body tighten as I wondered what else she was full of.              

              I followed her to the aisle where she waited for me. She held up a screw driver in one hand. “This,” she said with a professorial air, “is a Phillips head. It is a very helpful tool for a number of projects. The benefits of such a tool are avoiding cam out and damage, precision in driving, and low torque.” She raised a winged brow at me. “Got that?”

              I grinned, enjoying the byplay. “Yes, ma’am,” I said.

              She nodded regally and then headed to the next small bin, pulling out a Frearson head.

              “Although quite similar to a Phillips, this is known as a Frearson,” she continued.

              Those sweet lips. I wanted to suck on them before biting down, so I could hear her gasp against my own lips. I took a step towards her as she talked. I wanted to wrap my arms around her, trapping her completely against me, feeling her body slide against mine.

              I hardly knew the girl and yet I felt a distinct connection with her. Whether it was just a connection of mind or of body, I didn’t care. I just knew I was ready to explore it regardless. And when it came to exploring, the body was far more fun to start with.

              Clara eyed me warily, noticing a distinct change in my attitude. She took a step back to compensate for my step forward but that didn’t discourage me. I kept moving forward.

              “This is a good…err—a good head for jobs like—ahh!!” Clara cried out as she tripped against a small stool that was in the middle of the aisle. Walking backwards, she hadn’t seen it and was soon freefalling with her arms flailing out.

              Immediately, I reached for her, grabbing her by the arm and yanking her towards me. She gave a soft sigh as she hit my chest, my arm instinctively tightening around her.

              I could feel her breasts pressing against me, making my body tighten. My arm gripped her harder. I found myself unwilling to let her go.

              A soft hand touched my chest. I looked down in surprise.

              She looked up at me, her hazel eyes warm and bright. “Thanks,” she said in a soft breathless voice. Her eyes searched me. I wondered if she could tell just what I was thinking.

              Perhaps she could because she then nodded with certainty. “Beer,” she said suddenly.

              I furrowed my brows in confusion. “What?”

              “We need some beer,” she said nodding with confidence. “Definitely. Let’s get some on the way back home.”