The Forbidden Billionaire (The Sinclairs Book 2)

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Authors: J. S. Scott
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she was still wearing her ass-hugging jean shorts that were like a torture device if he was walking behind her, and the T-shirt she had been wearing at the market. He hopped out of the truck and pocketed the keys as he jogged to her side of the truck to open the door before she could get it. He’d noticed that the door stuck when he’d had to practically pry it open at his house. “I’m starving,” he told her testily as the door popped open after he exerted considerable force.
    “You won’t be.” She laughed and grabbed his hand, forcing him to close the door quickly as he followed her. For a moment, he considered whether or not he should have locked the truck, but discarded the idea. Someone would be doing her a favor if they stole it, and he’d have an excuse to replace it.
    They passed the Lighthouse Inn at the end of the street, a lodging he’d become very familiar with during the time he’d been supervising the construction of homes on the Peninsula for him and his siblings. He designed and helped build every one of those homes except Grady’s, who had built his own home at the very end of the Peninsula before Jared had ever set foot in Amesport. After visiting Grady, Jared had known every one of them needed a home here. There was something special about the small coastal town, something healing, and God knew every one of the Sinclairs needed a place like this to escape.
    Jared let her lead him until they reached the boardwalk, and then they ended up walking side by side. She tugged to let go of his hand, but he entwined their fingers and kept a firm grasp, liking the feel of her palm against his, being connected to her somehow. It was a simple touch that he hadn’t felt in a very long time, and he’d forgotten how good it felt. Honestly, he didn’t think it had ever made his heart lighter just by touching a woman in such an uncomplicated manner. But with Mara, it did. “It’s raining,” he observed, feeling a few droplets land on his forehead.
    “That’s why I wanted to sell my stuff fast at the market today. We’re supposed to get more thunderstorms this afternoon.”
    It had warmed up considerably since his rude awakening early this morning, but Jared could see the clouds starting to roll in. Thankfully, they arrived at the shack, and Mara led him around to the front entrance, a door that wasn’t visible unless a person walked toward the lighthouse, which few people actually did once they reached the end of the boardwalk. The pier leading to the large beacon for fishermen wasn’t exactly picturesque, and neither was the old lighthouse, which looked weathered and in need of repairs.
    Sullivan’s Steak and Seafood.
    The name of the place was carved on a piece of weathered driftwood hanging unevenly beside the entrance. “Classy,” he mumbled, able to hear voices now coming from inside the hut. He plucked Mara’s glasses off her face and dried them on his shirt, cleaning off a few droplets of water, before perching them back on her face.
    “Thanks.” She adjusted the glasses slightly. “Why do you keep doing that?”
    “I wore glasses. It’s irritating to try to see around the spots.”
    “You don’t need them anymore?” she asked curiously.
    “Nope. I had laser done.” He looked at the lopsided sign on the door dubiously. “Are you sure it’s safe to eat here?”
    “Don’t judge. Outward appearances can be deceiving. The food is amazing.”
    “I hope so.” He reached for the door and opened it for her, waving at her to go in first.
    Surprisingly, the place wasn’t as bad as Jared had imagined, judging by the weathered exterior. There was a cash register inside the door and a bar with four chairs, where solo diners could sit and eat. The tables weren’t exactly elegant, but they were serviceable, and most of them were full.
    “Mara,” a high, female voice called loudly from the service window behind the bar.
    Jared looked at Mara as she waved at a pretty woman with

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