Free Betting the Billionaire by Avery Flynn Page A

system, she strutted over the power tool cabinet. “Yep.”
    His footsteps echoed in the quiet space, stopping close enough that she could feel his nearness as surely as a touch. “What’s the set up?”
    Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as she fiddled with the cabinet door knob. “Lumber storage and the plywood rack are in the back. Upfront are all the basics: table saw with router table, a combination table-saw shaper, a bandsaw, edge sander, wide belt sander, miter saw, jointer, metalworking mill, drill press, and a massive cabinet filled with power tools. There’s an air-filtration system with suction throughout the barn.”
    Gabe chuckled, his breath caressing her skin. “You must spend every day here to rattle all that off without even looking around.”
    Enough, K. Time to find your spine, girl.
    She pasted her best tough-chick expression on her face and whirled around, ready to go to battle for her family. “Nope. I’m either behind a desk or shopping for interior decorating clients. But I grew up in this barn. I was working the sander as soon as I was old enough. Before that, my Barbies had fabulous adventures in the lumber storage area.”
    Seemingly unaffected by her hard tone, Gabe pointed to the open air loft above the main floor. “What’s up there?”
    She glanced up, grateful for a place to look that didn’t include his wide shoulders or model-handsome face. “The hayloft was remodeled into living quarters. When my parents fist got married, they lived there.”
    “Your dad a workaholic?”
    “No.” The word came out too sharp, but she didn’t care. She needed to push him away or risk losing the bet, her family’s business, and her sanity. “He was determined to make a go of the company and give his children something more than a farm weighed down with debt, and you’re dead set on taking that legacy from him.”
    Gabe flinched as if she’d struck him. “I take it the truce is over.”
    “For such a successful guy, you catch on slow.” She enunciated each word so the sarcasm would create the wall between them she so desperately needed. “The truce ended the moment you accused my dad of murder.”
    He slipped his black-framed glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I was wrong.”
    Shock struck like a whip, slicing through her defenses and leaving her breathless. “So why are you here?”
    He looked up, piercing her soul with his bright, aquamarine eyes. “Because of you.”

Chapter Nine
    Gabe hadn’t been this unsure of himself since…well, since ever. But he’d made a fortune from following his gut, and he hoped like hell he wasn’t wrong this time.
    “This whole clusterfuck happened because I thought I was doing the right thing for the right reason.” Now wasn’t that the irony? He had the Midas touch when it came to money, but people? Yeah, not his strong suit.
    Nervous energy ate away at him, making his glasses shake in his hands. He slid them on before he dropped them, bringing Keisha into clear focus. Standing before him, with her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed, she couldn’t have looked any more suspicious of him if she tried. And who could blame her? He’d practically submarined Jacobs Fine Furnishings with the careless hurt of a child.
    Now it was time to man up.
    “I went off half-cocked.” He paced the length of the workbench. “All I knew was that my dad and your dad had been partners, and things had fizzled. Your dad went on to build Jacobs Fine Furnishings. My dad ended up playing chicken with a highway overpass. He lost.”
    The images from the grizzly, full color accident photos flashed in his mind, and he flinched. Twisted metal. Blood on the windshield. A single tire lying in the middle of the road. He wished like hell he’d never forced Carlos to show him the pictures.
    “I’m sorry for your loss, but what the hell does that have to do with my father or me?” Keisha asked.
    Though sympathy softened her words, he couldn’t miss the