FAKE DATING WITH BENEFITS MY BILLIONAIRE BOSS (Ophelia Corrigan) novel Chapter 6

~ JAMIE

At ten o'clock sharp the next morning, the doorbell rang.

I opened the door to find Simon Hart in charcoal linen pants and a white button-down, sleeves rolled to his elbows, Ray-Bans covering his eyes. He looked like he'd just stepped off a yacht in the south of France, not like he was about to spend the day with a dying woman and her dysfunctional family.

"Punctual," I said, surprised.

"I told you I would be."

I looked him up and down.

"You're really going to meet my grandmother dressed like that?"

He glanced down at himself. "What's wrong with it?"

"You look like you're about to go seduce someone."

A slow smile curved his mouth. "Jamie, I thought that was the whole point. To charm your family." His gaze slid over me, unapologetically. "And you're not looking too bad yourself. I see you took my advice from yesterday."

"Shut up, Hart."

I rolled my eyes and got into the car.

As soon as he pulled out, he asked, "Where does your grandmother live, anyway?"

"Westchester. About an hour from here."

"Got it. We'll be there in under forty."

The drive went smoothly until we were a few minutes out from Westchester. Suddenly, the car started vibrating, followed by a dull thud from one of the wheels.

"Shit." Simon jerked the wheel, slowing down.

"What was that?"

"Flat tire." He pulled over to the shoulder, the car tilting to one side. "Stay here."

I killed the engine and got out, following him. He was already at the trunk, pulling out the spare.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Changing the tire. What does it look like?"

"I know what it looks like." I crossed my arms, watching. "I'm just surprised. You actually know how to change a tire?"

He rolled up his sleeves, exposing muscled forearms, veins prominent. He knelt by the side of the road and got to work on the lug nuts, back muscles shifting under the fabric.

"I'm not just a pretty face." He didn't look up from the wheel. "Learned to change a tire before I learned to drive."

I stayed quiet, watching him work. He was fast, efficient, movements precise. The muscles in his forearms flexed with every turn of the wrench.

I shouldn't have been looking. I definitely shouldn't have been noticing how good he looked—not just good, but competent.

"Done." He stood up, wiping his hands on a paper towel. "Okay, let's go."

"Wait." I pointed at the flat tire on the ground. "You're just leaving it there?"

"I'll put it in the trunk." He grabbed the tire, tossing it into the trunk with an ease that made my eyes widen. "Worried, Counselor?"

"No." I shook my head, getting back in the car. "Just surprised."

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