Blaze (The Wilde Heirs #6)

Chapter 1

Blaze

“Thanks for doing this, Blaze,” Reagan says, rolling her eyes. “My husband is ridiculously overbearing, but I appreciate you coming with me today.”

I smirk—a look I’ve perfected in the last few weeks since arriving at the Wilde mansion. I’m not sure I was ever a smirker before, but my cousins certainly are, and I seem to have adopted their mannerisms in addition to some of their other characteristics.

Overbearing being one of them.

“Don’t misread me, Reagan. I agree with Tiago. If I were married, there’s no way I would let my wife lead hiking groups without me or someone I trusted along for the trek. Consider yourself lucky. If my wife were also pregnant, I would probably ban hiking altogether.”

Reagan owns an adventure company. She arranges all kinds of activities in the area.

She has employees who lead the tourists, but lately, business has been picking up, and sometimes, she’s needed as a guide.

Tiago usually goes with her, but he had an appointment with an art dealer this morning, so I offered to accompany Reagan.

It’s not a hardship. I could use some fresh air and exercise. I was going to work out this morning anyway. Might as well be useful.

Reagan groans. “Great… The mansion has infected you, too.”

I laugh. She may be right. There’s something about that monstrosity. When I first arrived, I thought everyone who’d come before me had lost their minds.

It’s only been a few months since Old Man Wilde passed. At the time, we all received an official letter from the executor of the estate, letting us know that any grandchild who agrees to come to Wilde and manage the estate and the town for ten years is entitled to their share of the inheritance.

At first, I tossed the document to the corner of my desk and ignored it.

I was living the rat race in Chicago. Work, home, sleep.

Work, home, sleep. Yeah, I managed to fit in exercise most days, and occasionally I went out with friends, but it’s been a long time since I’ve had a serious relationship.

I never thought I would reach forty-one and find myself single with no prospects. Over the past couple of months, I picked up that letter a dozen times and stared at it before deciding, “What the hell? Why not go to Wilde?”

I knew five of my cousins had come here. I spoke to Ryder a few times. Maybe I’ve lost my mind, but it suddenly felt right. I gave my two-week notice where I was working as a financial analyst, wrapped up my boring, stagnant life, and moved to Arizona.

As it turns out, my cousins are glad to have me here. I have a finance and business background, so I’ve taken over managing that side of things, and it’s no small task. Amos Wilde let things slide for decades before he died at ninety-five.

Reagan sighs, yanking me out of my wandering thoughts. “It’s not deniable, you know?”

“What isn’t?” I ask, propping myself on one of the stools at the counter in her shop. She has the perfect setup here, where she’s been renting this space in town for years. Clients reserve their adventures online or by phone, but then they meet here to begin.

“Whatever’s in the air in that mansion. You aren’t immune. Nobody is. I’m surprised you’ve managed to go this long without meeting her, but you will soon.”

“Meeting who?” Sometimes I don’t know what the hell my cousins and their wives are talking about. They have their own language. That includes my female cousin, Emilia, and her husband.

“Your wife.”

I startle.

Reagan giggles. “You’ll meet her soon. Be open-minded.”

I smirk again. “That’s nonsense. I’ll admit, it’s pretty bizarre that every one of my cousins living here has met and married someone within weeks, but I don’t believe in any sort of woo-woo magic. It’s not like there are dozens of single women in Wilde looking to get married and knocked up.”

To be honest, I am a bit jealous. It’s been clawing at me for a few years—the fact that I’ve never married. I don’t know if it’s a thing for guys, but my biological clock is ticking.

“We get a lot of tourists visiting,” Reagan adds. “People passing through. Business is growing as you and your cousins get this town back up and running. Who knows? Maybe you’ll meet her today. She could be one of the women signed up for this morning’s hike. Better be ready.”

Just then, the shop door opens, and four people step inside. Four women, as a matter of fact. They’re geared up and ready to hike. They look like they do this often with all the proper clothing and equipment.

They’re also in their mid-seventies.

“Okay,” Reagan whispers. “Maybe not today. But if you join me a few times a week, I bet she’ll walk through that door.”

While Reagan heads over to greet her tour group, I rub my jaw.

Maybe she’s right. Maybe I should accompany her more often.

It could be a great way to meet women. I’m certainly not opposed to finding the one, settling down, and making babies.

I wasn’t opposed to any of that before I moved here.

I didn’t exactly expect to arrive and find out it was practically a rule at the Wilde estate, but I’m open-minded.

If there’s any truth to the fact that something is in the water or the air or even the paint in that monstrosity, game on.