Jared shoved his hands into his pockets.

Standing with her back against the porch railing, her tense shoulders near her ears, she looked fit to be tied. Her beautiful blue eyes searched for him. He stepped closer and cleared his throat.

“He’s my horse,” she said.

“You can’t sell Harley without my say-so.”

An exasperated noise escaped her pale lips. “I trusted you.”

“Trusting me is the smartest thing you can do, darlin’.”

“Don’t call me that!”

Her vehement tone caught him off guard. He called lots of woman darlin’. Why did she act like it meant something?

Because you mean it when you say it to her.