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Perhaps she shouldn’t be so wary when he’d been nothing but nice so far, but after her experiences with the last two men she’d let get close—and after she’d watched the way the wealthy father of the teen who’d hit Jeremy had used his money to buy them out of any trouble—Harper simply couldn’t trust blindly anymore.
    “Can we see the other garage, Will?” Jeremy was a bundle of energy, even more so than usual. As though he felt he had to take big bites of Will’s world before it was gone.
    “Sure,” Will said as he fished in his pocket for a remote. “But there’s no Birdcage Maserati over there.”
    “I know,” Jeremy said sadly. “Maybe if I close my eyes and wish hard enough, there could be one day.” He did, squeezing his eyes shut.
    Will laughed. “Sorry, I’m no genie in a bottle. Not today, at least.” He pointed his remote at the closest door and it rolled up to reveal a sporty red vehicle.
    “ The Ferrari ,” Jeremy said in whispered awe before running toward the sports car. To Harper, his feet always seemed one step away from stumbling, but thankfully, Jeremy didn’t fall.
    “You don’t have to do all this,” she said apologetically.
    “I’m enjoying it,” he said again. “I like your brother. I don’t often meet people who are as excited about cars as I am.” He grinned at her. “He told me I should build a Birdcage Maserati.”
    “He’s crazy for that car. He’s got pictures of it all over his bedroom wall.”
    “I hated having to tell him no one makes a Maserati kit car.” Will put his hand on the small of her back as they followed her brother at a more reasonable pace. “He showed me his notebook on the drive over.”
    The warmth of his touch was too much, too powerful. Wanting it so much more than she knew she should, she turned slightly, pulling away, trying to focus on what he was saying instead of his heat, his scent, and the things his hand on her back was doing to her insides.
    “Even after you told him you couldn’t get a kit for it, he wouldn’t stop talking about that car, right?”
    “Right.”
    Why Jeremy had fixated on the Maserati, Harper didn’t know. She couldn’t see anything special about it—at least, no more than any other sports car. “I’m sorry about that.”
    “You don’t need to keep apologizing for him. Like I said, I like your brother.” Another one of those gorgeous smiles curved his lips. “And I want to take you out, because I like you, too.”
    Rushing ahead of them, Jeremy hadn’t stumbled, but Harper almost did just then. “Excuse me?”
    “Dinner. Tonight. You and me.”
    The shock of his invitation—and just how badly she wanted to say Yes! —sent her pulse into the danger zone. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
    “Don’t think, Harper. Just say yes.” He gave her another smile, this one a little devious. “I already asked Jeremy, and he said it was fine if I took you out.”
    “You’re joking.”
    “I’m perfectly serious. Hey, Jeremy,” he called, “didn’t I ask on the drive over if I could take Harper to dinner?”
    “Yup. I said okeydokey.”
    Knowing that she was seriously out of her depth with this man, Harper said, “I can’t date you.”
    “Why not?” he asked reasonably. “You’re not afraid, are you?”
    “Of course I’m not afraid,” she said quickly. Too quickly, perhaps.
    Because the truth was that she was afraid. Afraid of just how much she wanted to go on a date with Will. Afraid of just how badly she wanted to feel his mouth on hers. Afraid of just how much she loved seeing him smile at her. Afraid of being so starved for male affection that she’d be tempted to let herself become a plaything for a billionaire who couldn’t possibly want her for anything more than that.
    In the end, given the jumble of emotions inside of her, the best reason she could come up with was, “I don’t like to leave Jeremy alone at night. And it’s too late to get anyone to stay with