Chapter 2
Claire
I know I’m in a totally defensive position with my arms crossed and my hip cocked. I’m not sorry, and I’m not moving until I exchange words with whichever rich asshole Wilde grandson has come to town.
There’s no doubt that the man I saw climb out of this moving truck is one of them. It’s not like we have someone else moving into town. It’s a small town. I know the realtor—June Snell. She hasn’t shown a house in over a year. June would have told the entire town if someone was moving to Wilde.
I’m not budging until I speak to him , and the best place to wait is next to his truck. Which is where I’ve been standing for quite some time.
Finally, the door to the law office opens, and Mr. McAndrews steps out with the Wilde heir. Thomas stands in the entryway, exchanging a few final words with the man I plan to confront.
As soon as Wilde turns around, he spots me and hesitates.
I somehow manage to maintain my defensive position, including my narrowed glare, but I also stop breathing.
Shit . Shit, shit, shit .
He’s drop-dead gorgeous. Like worthy of the front cover of a magazine—and I’m not talking about one of those damn tabloids that fill the slots at Wilde Grocery. I’m talking about real magazines, the kind with movie stars on them.
I force myself to shake off my stupidity, certain the only reason I find him so attractive is because he’s the first man I’ve seen in months who isn’t from Wilde. Surely, that’s it. People born and raised in Wilde—like myself—are stuck with very slim pickings when it comes to finding a life partner. We get a bit starry-eyed when a stranger comes to town. Usually, he would be considered fresh meat, but in this case, we are all leery about this guy. He’s probably a gold digger. Someone who has come to collect his inheritance and leave the town in worse shape than it’s currently in.
He holds my gaze for several seconds before inhaling deeply—something I’m aware of even from several yards away—and heading in my direction.
I’d fully intended to speak first to set the tone of this impromptu meeting, but the closer he gets, the more tongue-tied I find myself. He’s six feet tall and built like a guy who spends plenty of time in the gym. His thick brown hair is slightly disheveled, probably from traveling. Deep brown eyes pierce me without glancing away.
And dammit, but he gets the first words in. “Aren’t you a bit young to have been sent as the town’s representative to harass me?”
Oh, no, he did not . Them’s fightin’ words.
I scowl and find my voice. “Aren’t you a bit old to be showing up in town only after Good Old Grandad has passed?” I know from my parents and several other townspeople that the oldest of Old Man Wilde’s grandchildren should be about forty-five; none of them have ever stepped foot in Wilde.
The man in front of me is most likely close to my father’s age, and I should not be lusting after him the way I am. It’s like I’ve been gut-punched. He’s just stunning.
He smirks as he stops inches from me, standing far closer than socially acceptable for strangers. Not that I can blame him. I provoked him. He crosses his arms, mirroring me, feet wide, prepared to spar. “Go ahead. Lay it on me, child. It would seem I have a lot to do. I assume you were sent to give me a message. Let’s hear it.”
Damn him. I drop my arms and lean in closer—bad move. He smells good, too: a combination of some, most likely, expensive body soap, his rich-boy deodorant, and his personal scent.
I’m forced to inhale that scent in order to speak. “No one sent me, you dimwit. I came on my own. And I’m not a child. I’m twenty-two, old man. Old enough to speak for myself, thank you very much.”
He lifts a brow. “Great. Are you going to say anything of value?”
Ugh . I want to slap him, but I also want to close the last few inches and lean against his chest. Shit . I bet it would feel amazing to have his arms wrapped around my body, rock-solid arms of steel.
I draw in another deep breath and find my damn wits. “What are your intentions?”
He chuckles. “For what? Sounds like something your daddy would ask me if he saw you standing so close to me. I’ll admit you’re cute, but twenty-two is a bit young for me. Did you think you’d be able to hook onto one of us if you were the first to approach? Is that the sentiment in town? Should I expect every young single girl to knock on my door in the next few days? Maybe you should let everyone know that I haven’t actually inherited a dime of my grandfather’s money yet. None of my siblings or cousins have either. So we’re not filthy rich and worthy of being fawned over.”
I gasp. This man is the most infuriating man I’ve ever met. He’s goading me, and it’s working. I’m rattled. I fist my hands at my sides and lean closer again. “Grrr. I am most certainly not trying to hook my claws in you, old man. And my daddy stopped interfering with my choice in men a long time ago.” I have no idea why I decided to tell him that last part. It’s possible it wouldn’t even be true if there were a man in town worth my father’s interference.
Wilde chuckles. “So, you do call him Daddy?”
I roll my eyes. Dammit . “Are you going to answer my question?”
“About what? My intentions toward you? I don’t have any. I don’t even know your name. I’m here at the bequest of my grandfather. The only thing I know about this town is what I learned from McAndrews, and you know how long I was in there with him.” He turns slightly and pats a satchel hanging over his shoulder. “McAndrews was kind enough to provide me with a week’s worth of reading material. My intention is to locate my grandfather’s house, sit down with a beer, and get caught up with the town’s history.”
“History?” I shout. “You should skip the history and dive into the present circumstances. If someone doesn’t do something fast to save this town, it will die an ugly death, old man. Most folks are barely holding on by a hair. Tourism has been dwindling every year for a decade. If you don’t pump some money into salvaging the economy and most of the buildings, people will start to move away.”
I didn’t mean to divulge quite that much information in one breath, but I’m standing here when no one else seems to be willing to approach the newcomer who can either make or break this town.
His brows are furrowed, but he says nothing until I finish spewing my two cents, and then he gives a nod. “Duly noted. Now, if you’ll step out of the way, I’ve been driving all day. I’d like to find the house and get some of my things unpacked before the sun sets.” He motions toward the driver’s door, which I’m blocking.
I step back a few feet. “House?” I chuckle.
He lifts a brow again. “You know, the place where people sleep and eat their meals?” he taunts.
I narrow my gaze. “I’m not an idiot, but you are if you think your grandfather’s dilapidated mansion could be called a house.”
He winces. “Dilapidated? That bad?”
I shrug. “From what I’ve heard, it’s not in good repair. It’s going to need a hell of a lot of work if you actually want to live in it.”
“Wasn’t my grandfather living in it?”
“Yep.” I cross my arms and cock my hip again. This schmuck has no idea what he’s getting into. He’s probably an accountant or businessman who thinks he can swoop into town, collect his millions, and leave us high and dry.
That doesn’t quite jive with what he’s said or what I’m looking at, though. He’s wearing jeans and a blue T-shirt that’s tight enough to reveal every inch of his six-pack. And if he were a successful businessman, why would he bother to show up at the summons of a dead man?
I remind myself that no matter how much money this guy may have, his grandfather most likely left him millions more, so maybe it’s worth it for him to come to town. Maybe he took a few weeks off to see the will and collect his due.
What the entire town and I fear is that a wagon train of Wilde heirs is going to show up, take their piece of the pie, and leave the town far more destitute than it already is.
No one has any idea exactly how much Old Man Wilde was worth, but the suspicion is over a billion. That’s a lot of zeros. I’m not sure how many people were named in the will, but I suspect it was quite a few.
This new Wilde jars me out of my musing when he opens the door to his moving truck. “Are we done here? I’m exhausted. How about, if you want to yell at me some more, you come to the house tomorrow when I’m well-rested. In the meantime, if there’s a town meeting tonight where you’re supposed to give a report, you can let everyone know you did your due diligence and confronted the big bad city guy.”
I’m forced to take another step back as he grabs the oh-shit handle to swing up into the truck. With a nod in my direction, he closes the door and starts the engine, dismissing me.
What a pompous ass.
What a breathtakingly sexy, pompous ass.