Page 30 of I Choose You
“Here you are,” she said, handing me the bottle. “I’m Scarlett, by the way. I just wanted to apologize for what happened last night. I know you haven’t been in town long, but that really isn’t the kind of thing that happens around here.”
“How do you know how long I’ve been in town?” The question popped out before I had a chance to stop it. I had no right to ask the police any questions. That wasn’t how this worked.
She didn’t seem to mind though. She had a friendly smile. With a small shrug of her shoulders, she answered. “You’re working on the library project with Luke’s brother Reid, and… I don’t know. It’s just a small town, I guess.”
Luke appeared behind Scarlett and tapped her on the shoulder. The air in the room shifted subtly as Scarlett stepped aside.
“I’ll let you two get back to it. It was nice to meet you,” she said.
“Actually, I think we’re good here. Unless there’s anything else you would like to add to your statement before it goes on record?”
I read through the written statement and signed my name, confirming it was accurate.
“Thank you for coming by today,” Luke said.
I thanked him for his time as well, and then Scarlett walked me out to the main lobby.
“I hope I see you around sometime.”
“Me too.” I smiled and then left the station.
After a quick Google search, I swung by Wyatt’s garage onthe off chance that he would be there. A black pickup truck was parked next to the front door, so I pulled up next to it and knocked before pushing it open.
It was darker inside than I expected, but the space was clean, if a bit untidy. Wyatt was elbow-deep into the hood of an old boxy sedan, but he looked up at the sound of the door, an easy smile coming to his face.
“Hey. How are you holding up?” He stepped away from the car, cleaning his hands on a rag that he pulled from his waistband.
“I’m fine,” I told him. “Thank you for asking though. I’m actually here about the house.”
“Everything okay?” His brow furrowed in concern. He reminded me so much of Reid when he did that, the family resemblance obvious.
“Yeah. It’s great. I can’t thank you enough for letting me stay there. It’s just that Reid didn’t tell me what the rent was or where I should send it. Do you take Venmo?”
A smirk tugged at his lip. “He warned me you would try to pay. Listen, my house is sitting empty every day. It helps me out to have someone there looking after the place.” He crossed his arms and looked at me, a mix of amusement and curiosity on his face. “Besides, Reid would fucking kill me if I took your money.”
“Reid has nothing to do with this. I’m not looking for charity.”
“It isn’t charity, Claire. It’s what we do around here. You need a place to stay, and I get a free house-sitter. Take the win.”
He wouldn’t budge on this, and honestly, I could really use a win right now. I exchanged numbers with him in casesomething came up at the house while I was “house-sitting.” Apparently, I was now staying rent-free in a fully furnished house, all thanks to the Wilder men.
10
Claire
My gut churned, and I had to shake the jitters out of my arms. Pulling into the driveway of my parents’ home shouldn’t leave me feeling so anxious, but I was. The estate was set behind a stone wall and cast-iron gate. I drove through the gate and pulled up to the stone-and-stucco house. Large white columns framed the front entrance. The twelve-thousand-square-foot house sat on eighteen acres of vibrant, green, manicured lawn, even in early December, with a kidney-shaped pool and tennis court.
I left early this morning so that I could get here with plenty of time for my mother. Dreading breaking the news to her that I was dateless after all, I had continued driving for another hour, stalling. I had called every guy friend or acquaintance I could think of who wasn’t one of Will’s friends, but between the short notice and the three-day wedding affair, no one was available to attend it with me.
I started this morning with a deep meditation, but I was finding it difficult to push the negative thoughts away.
Inhale. Five, four, three, two, one.
Exhale. Five, four, three, two, one.
The front door opened, and Leon, my parents’ house manager, stood at the ready. Leon had been part of my parents’ staff for the last fifteen years. In his early fifties, his once brown hair was now more salt than pepper. He stood at around six feet tall, and his wide shoulders and impeccable posture lent him an air of authority.
I got out to greet him, taking my overnight bag with me but leaving the garment bags with my dresses that I had picked up when I got to town in the car.
