“Oh, my!” Maggie, the woman who gave me biscuits as a child, exclaimed. “I’ve always adored his collection.”
“To Jed, I leave my recipe books. To Dana, I leave my silver platter and my three dragon ornaments.” Jack continued.
He went further and further down the list to exclaims from the other six people around the table. All the while, I grew increasingly impatient. It shouldn’t have surprised me that my grandfather saved me for last. Knowing him, it was probably a ploy specifically designed to annoy me. I was surprised I was even invited to the reading, at all. As far as I knew, my grandfather hated my guts. He certainly acted that way the last time I’d seen him, kicking me out of his house and telling me he didn’t want to see my face around here again, his finger wagging at me as if I were a naughty little boy once more.
As the memory surfaced, I gritted my teeth. I’d left, but not without a choice few words. My car was open, and I had been climbing into it as my grandfather shouted his retort. By the time I reversed out of the driveway, he was hunched over in a coughing fit. A few ranch hands raced over to help him inside while I drove away. It wasn’t exactly the best of last memories a person could have.
“To Nicholas Parker, my grandson,” the executor’s voice broke into my thoughts. “I leave a condition.”
“A condition?”
I needn’t have worried about interrupting. Everyone at the table looked as confused as I felt, including the executor. Jack had stopped reading aloud, and his eyes were now skimming over the pages before him.
“How odd,” he murmured.
“What’s odd?” I snapped, pressing on in spite of the indignant glances I received. “What did the old man say?”
“Uh,” Jack looked up at me in shock. “He says that you can have the ranch on one condition.”
“Well? What is it?” I couldn’t keep the agitation out of my voice.
“You need to find a woman who will love the ranch as much as your grandmother, Lorraine Parker, did.”
“Excuse me?” I stood, pushing my chair backwards. It scraped against the wood once more. Maggie flinched, though that could have been due to my sudden movement. Hell, it could have been my tone. “Are you kidding?”
“That’s not all. If you don’t find a suitable partner — a woman to love as the deceased put it — within six months’ time, the ranch will fall to the default manner of dealing with property. It and everything inside will be auctioned off.” He cleared his throat when I opened my mouth to speak. “You will be blacklisted from the list of potential buyers, unable to make a bid.”
My fist had a mind of its own. It slammed down on the table so hard that the wood vibrated, Jack’s papers shifted, and the faces staring up at me had the most appalled expressions I’d ever seen. And, believe me, that was saying something. I didn’t bother sticking around. The last thing I wanted was to be reprimanded by people who could do that as a child.
With my heart pounding so hard that I could hear it in my ears, blocking out all other sound, I stormed out of the dining room. It was tempting to simply walk into another room, but I knew myself all too well and there was no guarantee that I wouldn’t simply throw Elvis Presley plates against the wall until the floor was covered in smashed pieces — though it was my experience that everyone could be bought, and I didn’t think Maggie was any different. For once, however, I’d play nice, even though I was furious. My footsteps revealed that much, stomps with a purpose as I strode toward the front door.
It wasn’t far enough. I didn’t stop on the porch. Walking gave me a sense of direction and distraction. As long as I kept walking, I wouldn’t feel the need to shove my fist through the nearest wall. That was how I wound up heading toward the stables, the dry summer grass crunching beneath my feet.
If I thought I’d be alone, I was wrong. Standing on the opposite end of the stables, like some kind of soothing balm to my soul, was a woman. She had her hand held out to one of the horses, and it was happily grazing on the bright orange carrot she fed it. For a second, I forgot how to speak. She could quite possibly have been the hottest woman I’d ever laid eyes on. Bright blue eyes eventually focused on me.
“Oh,” she gasped when she finally noticed me. “Hello!”
Chapter 3
GWEN.
Hovering on the tip of my tongue was the question, who are you? Something kept me from asking, however — quite possibly the anger that radiated off of him in waves. I wasn’t sure how, but I got the feeling I knew the man standing before me. There was a niggling of recognition in the back of my mind.
Apart from the fact that he was clearly angry and sporting a slightly pink hue because of it, he was devilishly handsome. In fact, he might very well have been the best-looking guy I’d ever laid eyes on; he was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome, dressed in an expensive fitted dark navy suit that somehow managed to accentuate a body I knew was made of lines and rippling muscles. Deep chestnut waves fell ever-so-slightly into his eyes, and he had a broody, smoldering look about him. As if that weren’t enough, his jawline was sharp enough to cut.
I had a feeling he knew exactly how attractive he was. He seemed to be the type of man to use it to his advantage, and I had no doubt he had other ways to use his influence to his advantage. Absently, I couldn’t help but wonder how many women’s knees had gone weak for the man before me.
Alex, the beautiful horse I’d been feeding, had crunched her way through an entire carrot, and I was so lost in the stranger’s arrival that I didn’t notice until she began licking and sniffing at my hand, whinnying gently. I giggled at the tickling sensation and pulled my hand back, raising the other to run it up and down the horse’s jaw. At the same time, I wiped my hand with a towel hanging over the door of the stable.
“Hey,” I whispered to Alex. “There’s no more. How about we get you some water, eh?”
On the floor beside the door stood a pail of water, ready and waiting for this very purpose. I lifted it with both hands and held the handle back so Alex could stick her long nose in. She slurped, and water sloshed upward and down the sides of the bucket as she eagerly drank her fill.
“So,” I turned to the stranger while I watered the horse. It creeped me out that he was simply standing there without saying a word. Granted, he was quite clearly surprised to have found someone out here. “Who are ya? You’re clearly not from around here.”
The man arched a perfect, strong brow. “Perhaps I am. What makes you so sure?”
I snorted. I couldn’t help it. If I didn’t, I might have rolled my eyes. I didn’t know which gesture was ruder. “No one from around here walks around in perfect suits and shoes, forgive my saying.”
Take me for example. I was wearing a pair of denim overalls, underneath which was a plain white t-shirt. My shoes were boots, covered in a great deal of mud. I’d specifically chosen a pair that matched the color of mud because I knew they’d stick out less. They simply looked as though I never washed my shoes — something I could deal with.
“Who are you, then?” he quipped. “The caretaker for the horses or something?”
“Something like that,” I nodded.
“I bet you don’t get paid enough,” he muttered. “That’s the kind of ranch we’re running down here.”
My brows furrowed together. What an offending statement. The truth was I probably would have worked on the ranch even if it didn’t offer a salary. It was my home, and while I appreciated the money, I was happy enough to have a place I could call that.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought ya just insulted the owner of the ranch,” I murmured warningly.
“What does it matter if I did? It’s not like he’s around anymore, is it?” The man walked toward me and, quite suddenly, I was struck with why I recognized him. I’d seen his face a dozen times before, though he’d been a lot younger in the photos scattered around the ranch house, but his eyes were the same.
“Oh, my God,” I gasped. “You’re Nicholas Park
er.”
At my statement, he froze. The muscles in his cheek twitched slightly. “I see my reputation precedes me.”
“You’re their grandson,” I continued, ignoring him. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen it before. Then again, his face was once a lot rounder than it was now. “There are pictures of you from when you were a boy all over the ranch house.”
“Do you live here or something?” he asked.
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
“Oh, so then you know all about the dick who owns the place.”
My eyebrows shot upward. Did I hear him correctly? “Excuse me?”
“My grandfather,” he nodded, oblivious to my reaction. “Funny, isn’t it, how he still manages to make my life difficult, even from the grave?”
“And ,how exactly is he doing that?”
“I came here today for the reading of the will.” Nick ran a hand through his hair. “What a waste of time that was; but then, my grandfather did always know how to waste a person’s time. You could say it was his hobby of sorts. And apparently, he can still do that when he’s dead. You know, it’s not like I have a life or anything. I don’t have time to come out here on a wild goose chase.”
The more he spoke, the hotter my cheeks felt. My heart was pounding by the time I snapped, “No one forced you to come out here. Haven’t you ever heard that you shouldn’t speak ill of the dead?”
Nick arched an eyebrow. “I think I know my grandparents a bit better than you... What did you say your name was?”
“I didn’t.”
My hands were shaking with rage, and I wanted nothing more than to slap the pompous asshole in front of me, but I knew that wouldn’t end well. I may have carried the Parker name, but that was by choice. I wasn’t actually a Parker. The fact remained, however, that the Parkers had taken me in, and they were as good a pair of parents as any, so why not go by Gwendolyn Parker? They were a damn sight better than my real parents. They’d dropped me on the doorstep of a hospital on a rainy evening when I was only a month old before disappearing into the night, never to be seen again.
I owed my parents nothing. The Parkers, on the other hand, had given me so much. To hear their own grandson speak about them as if they were horrible people, especially this soon after Joseph’s death, drove me mad. Nicholas Parker may be handsome, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever met someone quite so arrogant. It hung off of him like a cloud, and I wasn’t prepared to choke on the smoke.
“You’re a feisty little thing, aren’t you?” Nick’s face suddenly broke into a grin, his dark eyes roving up and down my body.
“You are absolutely ridiculous,” I shook my head in disbelief. “Why don’t you just go back to the city and leave us all alone?” I made to walk past him, taking the pail of water with me, but Nick caught my arm.
“What did I do to make you so angry?” he asked. “You don’t even know me.”
“On the contrary,” I started, wrenching my arm free of his grip. “I’ve met your type before. You’re ungrateful, arrogant, and pompous. You walk around thinking the world owes you something without ever stopping to consider that you might owe it.”
His eyes widened at first, staring at me in shock. For a second, I thought I might have actually gotten through to him. I realized that was a terrible mistake when he started laughing. He laughed for a full minute, and with each second that ticked by, I grew more and more annoyed. It was official: Nicholas Parker was the most aggravating person in the world.
“Oh wow,” he wiped a fake tear away from beneath his eye. “I can’t remember when last I laughed that hard.”
Without thinking, I lifted the bucket of water. With a slosh and a splash, what remained of the horse water hit Nick square in the face. He cried out in surprise, and I couldn’t help but smile. The navy suit he wore darkened where the water touched it.
“I sure hope that isn’t dryclean only,” I remarked.
The look on Nick’s face was absolutely priceless. He didn’t move at first, but with each second he stood there, his face grew redder and redder. I had to resist the urge to laugh because he was reminding me of a kettle boiling. All he needed was for steam to start coming out of his ears. As it was, the explosion didn’t come from his ears. It came from his mouth.
“Do you know how much this cost?!”
Chapter 4
NICK.
At my outburst, the blonde woman burst into fits of giggles, dropping the pail of water on the floor so that she could clutch her stomach. It was impossible not to notice the similarities between her laughter now and my laughter a few moments earlier. In fact, it irritated me to the point where I couldn’t stand to look at her anymore. I stormed past her, kicking the offending bucket aside on my way back out.
I had no choice but to head right back into the house. I ignored he executor and the other beneficiaries were all standing on the porch exchanging pleasantries as I passed by without acknowledging their looks of shock and disgust. They were probably all still pissy with me for storming out of the dining room. I knew the house well enough to know where all four of the bathrooms were, but for some reason, I found myself heading upstairs toward the one that was once mine.
Perhaps it was a sense of habit or perhaps it was nostalgia, but I soon found myself in my old bedroom. The moment I pushed open the door, I froze on the spot, my heart quickening the smallest amount at what I was seeing. In the decade since I’d lived with my grandparents, my room remained completely unchanged. Posters of my favorite rock bands and my favorite sports teams stared down at me, my four poster bed still had the same old dark blue checkered covers, and the calendar I’d used to count down the days until I left for college was still hanging on the wall. My grandparents had kept my room exactly the way I’d left it, and I felt a strange connection to everything I was seeing. It was as if they’d preserved a part of my life within these four walls, more apparent than ever by the fresh vacuum lines on the carpet.
Eventually, I became aware of the fact that the horse water was drying on my brand new suit, and I made my way into the en-suite bathroom hurriedly. Just like my old bedroom, my bathroom was kept immaculately clean, to the point that the scent of floral floor cleaner hit my nose as I grabbed a towel off the rail and began patting myself dry.
“How dare she,” I muttered under my breath. “This is probably going to be ruined forever now. And Armani, of all things.”
If I managed to get my hands on the ranch, I’d make sure she was removed from the property first, I decided.
I tried to get past the fact that it was my towel, too, deep blue Egyptian cotton because I’d been too stubborn to use anything but the best, even as a teenager. Some things hadn’t changed.
“Hey,” a deep, croaky voice suddenly broke the silence. “You can’t be in here!”
My eyebrows shot up as yet another familiar face appeared. An old man, his white hair falling in curly tendrils down his shoulders, stepped into the bathroom wagging his finger menacingly the same way my grandfather used to. At the sight of me, he froze. All at once, the color drained from his blotchy, weathered face. He stumbled backward slightly, and I dropped the towel, moving over to him on pure instinct. I caught his arm and steadied him as he stared up at me. His mouth was still open, whatever he’d been about to say unable to come out.
“Hey, Mr. Owens,” I murmured, leading him over toward the bedroom. I sat him gently on the bed. He still hadn’t stopped staring, and the color hadn’t returned to his cheeks. He, like the beneficiaries, was acting as if I was a ghost. “Are you okay?”
“You... You’re real, aren’t you?” he asked softly, lowering his hand.
I nodded. “Yeah, as real as can be. I came out for the reading of the will.”
All at once, the old man’s eyes began to well up. The color returned to his face only because he looked as if he was about to cry. He threw his arms around me, and it became clear where the smell of mothballs that lingered in the house was coming from. I didn’t suppose m
y grandmother would have gotten rid of the caretaker after all. Mr. Owens, as I’d always known him, was my grandmother’s brother; he’d taken care of the grounds and the house for as long as I could remember. On the rare occasion that my grandparents couldn’t, he also took care of me.
Gently and somewhat reluctantly, I wrapped my arms around the old man and hugged him back.
I was still burning with rage — both at my grandfather and the bitch in the stables — but something in me softened at the sight of Mr. Owens.
When he finally pulled back, Mr. Owens swiped at the tears beneath his eyes roughly. “Are ya staying? Is that why you came back?” He took a better look at me and his brows knitted together in confusion. “Why are ya all wet?”
At the memory, I grated my teeth together. “I have the habit of upsetting the women of the south, I’m sure you’ll recall. Do you know who the blonde cow in the stables is?”
“I’m not sure about cow,” Mr. Owens raised his eyebrows pointedly. “But do you perhaps mean Gwen Parker?”
“Parker?” Surely not...
“I know what you’re thinking, but no. My sister took her in a few years ago, and she goes under the name, but it ain’t her real name. She stays on as one of the ranch hands.”
“She...she stays on?”
“And, you’d do best to watch your language when you’re speaking about a young lady like that,” he said sternly. “She loves this ranch. It’s her home as much as it was yours.”
I didn’t miss the past tense. Was. I supposed I couldn’t exactly be upset with him. He was right. I’d abandoned the place years ago. Technically, as much as I wanted it, I couldn’t actually call the ranch mine anymore.
“Wait, what did you say?” I asked, suddenly realizing something. “About Gwen?”
“It’s her home.”
Secret Series: A Stealthy Billionaire Romance Box Set Page 2