Page 2 of Tiago

Apparently the man was a reclusive asshole, and the townsfolk aren’t pleased with how he managed things.The entire town is hoping my generation can pump money into the economy and breathe new life into Wilde.

We’re working with the executor—Thomas McAndrews.We will ensure this town thrives again.It’s just going to take time.

I glance at the business card again.

Call her.

Chapter2

Reagan

He’s early.

Tiago Wilde has just stepped into my shop about fifteen minutes early.

I’m in the middle of getting a tour group set up for a rock-climbing excursion they’re taking today.Doug is leading them.He’s the most qualified climber in the area.

The group of six has gathered in my shop to sign waivers and meet up with Doug.They’re enjoying pastries from Kennett’s Bakery and a cup of coffee.

Now I’m struggling to continue my speech because Tiago is in the room using all the oxygen.He’s stopped just inside the door, and he hasn’t interrupted me, but I can feel his gaze on me.It’s intense.I’m sure I’m reading far too much into it.

The truth is I’ve been completely consumed by Tiago Wilde since I met him two weeks ago at the bakery.Something about him is magnetic.I’m drawn to him, and it’s making me tremble now that he’s in my space.

I’m not the only one.Two of the ladies in the rock-climbing group are glancing at him.I doubt they’ve heard a word I’ve said since he entered.I haven’t really heard anything I’ve said, either.

Since I’ve given this pre-departure speech a hundred times, I assume it’s coming out of my mouth by rote.I hope so.No one seems to be staring at me questioningly.

Someone is definitely staring at me, though.Tiago.I’m not sure he’s even aware of anyone else in the room, which makes me feel tingly.It shouldn’t.I don’t know him.He doesn’t know me.We exchanged a few pleasant words at the bakery.He expressed interest in booking a hiking tour, and I gave him my card.That’s it.

Except that isn’t all there is to the story.Not by a long shot.Mostly because I’ve watched my phone like a madwoman ever since the encounter, willing him to call or text.He waited two weeks.Two weeks.

Granted, I know he was busy.His brother married Claire from the bakery.It’s the hottest gossip in town in decades.Ryder swooped into town, swept Claire off her feet, and put a ring on her with a full set of “I do’s” in fourteen days.I’m sure Tiago has been occupied.

That didn’t keep me from checking my phone frequently.It didn’t keep me from fantasizing about him every waking hour.It didn’t keep me from putting my battery-operated boyfriend to good use for the past two weeks.

Once the waivers are signed, I escort everyone out the front door as Doug pulls up in his van to pick them up.The most attention I give Tiago is to hold a finger up on my way past him, indicating I need another minute.

Shit.He even smells good.Exactly how I remember.Like whatever soap he uses, the outdoors, and unsurprisingly paint.These things shouldn’t necessarily be attractive, but they are.This is the scent I recall from our first meeting.It’s been in my head ever since.

I feel like I’m suddenly some kind of shifter—some type of animal who’s drawn to their mate by scent.Absurd.

I help everyone into the van, hand the paperwork to Doug, and wish them all well.As the van pulls away, I take a deep breath and reenter my shop to find Tiago wandering around, looking at the brochures on the shelves and posters from past group excursions.

He turns toward me and smiles.“Sorry, I was early.I should have waited outside until you were done.”

I rub my hands together to occupy them.“No problem.”

He steps closer, putting us a foot apart, and speaks in a low, soft voice.“I flustered you.”

I shudder.He may have flustered me when he arrived, yes, but the fact that he noticedandpointed it out, flusters me far more.

He picks up one of my braids, which is lying over my shoulder, and fingers it absently.“My apologies.”

My mouth has gone dry, and I’m speechless, which is unusual for me.Tiago has me spinning.I lick my lips, but all I can do is stare at his face.The man is ten times more gorgeous than I remember.Dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, a shadow of a beard, brown eyes.It’s like he’s looking into my soul.

He’s searching my eyes, and again I wonder if we’ve been sucked into some strange cosmic shift.I feel as if we’re two seconds from pouncing on each other and fucking like animals right here in the front of my shop.I’m not opposed to the idea.I don’t think he is either.

Seconds tick by.It should be awkward.It’s not.It’s intense and hot.

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