“I’ll give you money.” Stryder reached out, running his hand up and down her bare arm.
Melody jerked from his all-consuming touch, lifting her chin. “You’ll give me money? And what? If I need more, I text your accountant? Are you kidding me?” Her anger shivered over her and she suddenly didn’t want to be around him. No matter how much she’d missed him, she wanted to get away from the hypnotic pull of his gaze and the zinging scorch of his touch. “I’m not your mistress or whatever you’re suggesting. I won’t be kept.”
He shook his head, dropping his hand. “No… I mean, you can work for me. Yes, work for me.” He licked his lips like he was a little unsure what he was saying. “Not like that, though. I mean… I don’t mean… that.” He finished lamely, clenching his jaw.
Melody rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to work for you, Stryder.” Being attracted to her boss wasn’t an option and she already had to be in the same town as Stryder and her replacement in his heart.
Like that wouldn’t hurt like acid to her soul.
Stryder studied her and relaxed his stance. “Believe it or not, Melody, I’m not out to make your life miserable.” He reclaimed his seat at the table, motioning for Javier to continue. The server placed chocolate covered strawberries and chocolate mousse at their seats, bowing his way from the tent.
Melody glanced repeatedly at the sweet dessert. She hadn’t had anything decadent like that in a while. Her mouth watered.
“I know it’s your favorite, or it was. Please, have some.” He’d remembered and that swayed her more. He motioned toward her seat and waited for her to rejoin him before he continued speaking. “I’ll accept that you don’t want to work for me. If not me, then what would you like to do? Pick anywhere, what would you do, if you could choose anything?”
Anything? The option had never been presented to her, not really. And even though it couldn’t be truly asked or even partially granted, Melody pretended though, that for a brief second, it was a genuine question that she had a chance at. “If it didn’t matter about bills or anything?”
“You probably wouldn’t want to work, then, right?” Stryder picked up a strawberry and watched her, a knowing smile on the silky curve of his lower lip.
His smile struck a nerve, but she smothered it. She wanted that dessert. Melody shook her head. “No. I like working. Even if I had as much money as you, I would still want to work.” She scooped up a small bite of the mousse and paused before lifting it to her mouth. “I would work at the laundromat and florist.” She wasn’t embarrassed to say that. He’d asked and it was the truth. Simple, but true.
“But you could choose anywhere. You’d stay here in Two Rides?” Stryder studied her, his expression surprised as he paused a strawberry to his lips.
“If money wasn’t an issue, I’d still have my home. Just because some people don’t want to live here, doesn’t mean this isn’t my home.” She hadn’t meant to retort so harshly, but she was having a hard time keeping her true feelings concealed. She was mad at him, but also still in love with him. The confusion between the two emotions had her focusing inside when she should be focusing her attention on the conversation with him more.
Amused, he bit into the strawberry and after he swallowed, he continued. “Touché. Point made. So, the flower shop?”
“And the laundromat. You have to have something practical with the fanciful.” She quoted the same line Mrs. Singhe always shared when she talked about her business. “The flowers all make me happy, you know?” She’d always loved flowers and Mrs. Singhe always brought in orchids and hibiscus arrangements. The exotic flowers didn’t fit in with the Montana ruggedness, but Melody enjoyed them.
“I remember.” He took a bite of mousse, watching her all the while like she was more interesting than the dessert, which she didn’t believe.
Nothing was more interesting than that dessert – except the man sitting across from her. Melody lowered her spoon and part of her defenses. “Why are you back? No games, Stryder. I just want the honest truth, please.”
Stryder sighed, leaning his head back and fiddling with his spoon. “I need to reset. California is… intense for lack of a better word. I missed home, you know?”
As much as Melody didn’t want to admit it, Two Rides felt better with him in it. Even if he wasn’t hers, she felt like a piece of her had come home, too. Sitting across from him, lost in thought, she nodded slowly. “Yeah.” She answered a question he never asked.
“Why’d you stay?” Stryder sipped his water, unaware how his warm gaze was making her stomach do crazy things.
“And leave my dad? After mom left, well, you know, Dad lost it. He turned to alcohol and couldn’t keep a job shortly after you left. I can’t remember how, but we went from having enough to always trying to scrape by.” She licked her lips after another bite of the mousse. Almost whispering, she had to ask. “Where did you go?” She had to act like she didn’t care. She couldn’t care. If she did, he’d know she was invested emotionally in him still and her pride would never survive.
Stryder cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. “Business school. I really did as I promised. A… unique opportunity opened up. I took it.”
It seemed like making money for him was as easy as breathing. Melody wasn’t sure why, but that irritated her even more. “Why didn’t you come back?” Melody didn’t need to point out that he’d failed to keep that promise. She’d been so upset about breaking the drinking pact and he’d destroyed so much more of her by breaking the other promises.
“What if I told you I came back but things weren’t how I’d expected them to be, so I left again.” Stryder narrowed his eyes, tapping his finger on the arm of his chair.
Melody chuckled. “Honestly? I’d probably ask if this was the same time as the letters I never ‘got’.” Letters and impossible visits where she never saw him? What was his game? It wasn’t like Stryder to blame his actions on fiction.
“Ah. Okay, let me just say then, I wasn’t sure I’d be welcome.” He clenched his jaw like he bottled up his anger with a seething self-discipline she couldn’t claim. The way he lounged there in the gazebo with the twinkling lights all around them like it was as natural as sitting in an office chair made her palms damp.
Uncomfortable with the directness to his gaze, Melody cleared her throat and claimed one more bite of the mousse. “Well, it’s your home, right? I’m sure you’re always welcome.” She stood, tucking her chair back under the table. She pressed her lips together and looked over the elegant setup. “Can I help clean up? I really need to get back.”
“No, Javier and Smith will do it. It’s why they get paid the big bucks.” He winked and stood, replacing the linen napkin in his chair.
“Thank you. This was… It was too… I don’t have the words. I’ll never forget it.” She smiled, just weak enough that she hoped he would stay on the other side of the table. Her self-discipline was non-existent.
Stryder didn’t say anything and if he did, Melody didn’t hear as she rushed from the tent and across the grassy field.
Thankfully, it was dark and tears didn’t glow.
Chapter 12
Stryder
New mattresses took some getting used to. Add to that how much Stryder had to think about concerning Melody and he was left with little to no sleep for the night. That woman and her eyes and the things she said. She wrung his heart out and left it to dry. Didn’t she understand the effect she had on him?
Up before dawn and still without rest, Stryder finally crawled from bed. He was done tossing and turning. No one needed that. With Melody just across the way, his heart was too close. He was too close. How could he have thought she would be open to any suggestions he would make? Her pride. Her dang Steel pride.
After a shower that was tepid at best and more on the side of cool, Stryder padded downstairs to the kitchen. He’d brought his Nespresso with him and wasn’t sure where the coffee was. Just what he needed. A way to make coffee he couldn’t f
ind.
He growled, grabbing his hat and pulling on his boots. He’d be hanged before he’d admit that he wanted to see a little bit more of the town before investing too much into it. Not that buying the airstrip and small airport wasn’t a lot. It really wasn’t. Not yet.
He’d looked over the location and the possibilities and he most likely had a chance to rope Trevor into investing out that way in real estate as well which would bode well for some of their mutual ventures, but he still wasn’t sure how receptive the townsfolk would be to a Flint makeover.
They weren’t always interested until he showed the numbers on his previous projects and how they were doing up to five years later. That was as far as he’d gotten. Five years. His first town was that long ago. He tried doing two a year, but sometimes he had to slow down on a particular area and really get to know its strengths and weaknesses as a community.
Two Rides… He hadn’t been there in so long and if the rumors were true, Stidwell and the diner owner bullied the other businesses.
Stryder had to get to those two first. Controlling them would shift the power. Once he wrangled them into doing as he needed, the rest of the town would be more malleable to change and progress. They’d flourish under freedom and encouragement to grow. The towns always did.
His keys to his new Ford diesel truck jangled in his hand as he strode across the dew-covered lawn.
Unhindered by clouds or overbearing trees moonlight lit up the yard like the middle of a rodeo arena with a bluish, silver light. All of the beauty of Montana struck him and he longed to share it with Melody. She had no idea how much he’d missed her.
He couldn’t wait to see the impetuous woman again. Starting up the truck and settling into the front seat as the cab warmed in the early morning chill, Stryder couldn’t help himself and he glanced over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of Melody’s house. Was she awake? But the lights were off. They’d been off when the sun went down since he’d arrived. If her finances were bad enough to lose the house, maybe they were bad enough she couldn’t pay her bills.
Pulling out his phone, Stryder texted Feeney.
Find out Melody Steel’s electric bill and pay it – back pay and ahead for the next six months. Make sure it’s turned back on today. Thanks.
Stryder hoped Melody had the chance to sleep. He’d probably miss out on anything peaceful until he proved to her that she needed him. He could provide for her. Wasn’t that what she wanted? It seemed like that’s what every woman wanted.
In town, Stryder parked his truck in the front of the diner, ignoring the tug of nostalgia at seeing the sun rising over the length of the main street.
Growing up in Two Rides had been picturesque with its small town appeal and easy going nature. He’d missed the ambience of a personable town in the busy speed of California and dealings over the years.
Every town he’d put through an economic makeover had reminded him of Two Rides and he couldn’t believe he was finally there to set his plans in motion.
Stryder climbed from the truck and approached the double doors of the twenty-four-hour diner for the second time that week. This time, though, he wasn’t looking for Melody. No, this morning he was looking for coffee and a power play.
Every takeover required them and this one just felt like the diner was a great place to make his move. He hadn’t liked how Tom had treated Melody the last time Stryder had been in the restaurant.
This should be fun.
The aroma of black coffee filled the air as Stryder entered. He looked around, taking in the regulars claiming their set tables at the far end of the eatery and the few other diners eating quietly at their seats. While everyone in Stryder’s circle in California would sleep until noon, many people were up and working with the sunrise.
The woman who had sat him when he’d arrived the other day and an older redhead with a harried curve to her lips as she rolled her eyes at something the cook, Tom, was saying, stood by the counter.
Tom. Stryder had to neutralize him to get control of the town. The thing was, Stryder didn’t want to control the town. He wanted to turn the power and growth over to the people and business owners. If he could encourage entrepreneurs, he could get people to take their economy into their own hands. The growth of Two Rides depended on it.
Jesse turned toward the chime of the door opening. She gave away that she recognized him with raised eyebrows, but she approached anyway. “Would you like a booth or a table?” She wasn’t rude, but the warmth from the morning before was definitely lacking.
Stryder inclined his head. “Thanks, actually, I’d like to talk to him, please.” Stryder stared at Tom who glanced repeatedly at Stryder as if he sensed a true alpha male in the area.
Stryder had to make things clear from the beginning. He didn’t fight over anything. No, that’s what he had dollar signs for. Lots and lots of dollar signs.
The woman’s name tag read Jesse and she cast him a curious glance but turned back to the kitchen and said something to Tom.
The rough looking man wiped his hands on a stained towel and exited the kitchen to stand at the counter. He eyed Stryder from under bushy eyebrows that met over the bridge of his nose. After a second, he held out his hand. “Yeah, I’m Tom McCrowley.”
“Stryder Flint. Nice to meet you.” Stryder didn’t bother giving Tom the once over. He didn’t care. He hadn’t known Tom when he was in town. The McCrowleys weren’t original Two Ride residents. There was nothing holding him there. But there were Toms in every town and Stryder always dealt with them first.
“What can I do for you? The ladies can seat you and take your order. I’m not sure what I can do…” Tom folded his beefy arms over his chest and leaned his head back, taking on the standard rooster stance.
Stryder allowed his charming smile to slide across his lips. “It’s what I can do for you.” He encompassed the interior of the diner with a half-wave of his arm. “I’d like to buy the diner.”
Jesse gasped, lifting her hand to cover her mouth and staring at Tilly. Her eyes wide, she flicked her gaze between Stryder and Tom. Stryder didn’t smile at her reaction like he wanted to. The best part to takeovers would start as soon as Tom accepted the terms.
Ignoring Jesse’s reaction, Tom blinked at Stryder and didn’t move. “What? It’s not for sale.”
“I’d like to buy the diner.” Repeating himself with no change in tone or inflection, Stryder pulled the first business card from his chest pocket on the button-up shirt he’d worn with his jeans. He’d already written his offer on the card. That was part of his strategy. He’d never touch a pen in front of the seller until he signed all the contracts later that day.
Sliding the card across the counter with the back facing up, clearly marked with the amount he would pay, was a control mechanism. Once he had them with the number, the contract was easy to get signed. “That’s my only offer. If you turn it down, there won’t be another one.” The challenge was in Stryder’s tone, but he refused to soften it.
Tom dropped his disbelieving gaze to the card and his mouth parted. Slowly, he reached out and took the card between two fingers. “You want to pay this much for the diner?”
“For everything here. The lot, the paperwork, the employees, everything.” Stryder pointed toward the kitchen. “I have my own cook, though, so I don’t need you to stay on.”
“I wouldn’t with this kind of cash.” Tom reached out a hand and shook Stryder’s, his skin slightly greasy. “You’ve got a deal.” He reached behind himself and untied the apron, pulling it from his waist and laying it on the counter. “I’m going to assume this is immediate?” He studied Stryder, like he wasn’t sure what to expect next. Or maybe he thought Stryder could still be joking.
Stryder nodded, glad it was so fast. “This is effective immediately. Once the bank opens, go inside and have the manager call the contract line on the front. A man named Feeney will answer and authorize a transfer. He’s already aware of the amount and he’s waiting for confirma
tion. Once the manager gets the wire, he can print you a cashier’s check or deposit the amount into your account, whichever you prefer. You will be responsible for paying off any loans on the company.” Stryder hooked his thumb into his pocket. “I’ll be by a little later this morning to sign any paperwork. You get yours done first.”
Tom didn’t wait to rush out of the building.
The regulars at the table began to leave, paying their tickets at the register with Jesse or leaving their money on the tables. They filed out, leaving the diner empty except for Jesse, the redhead, and Stryder.
Stryder went to the door and reached up to the neon open sign and tugged the string to turn it off. Going back to stand at the counter, he waited until Jesse joined him and the redhead.
“What just happened?” Jesse put her hands on her hips and jutted her jaw toward him. She narrowed her eyes at him as if she expected to get fired any second. “First, you get Melody to walk out of here and now you’re buying the diner? Are we fired? I need this money, Flint.” Her anger couldn’t hide her fear.
“No, not at all.” Stryder spoke calmly. This was part of it as well. He couldn’t wait for them to know their lives were about to change.
“Then why’d you close during operating hours? We need the money.” Jesse folded her arms and studied Stryder.
“There aren’t any customers right now. I’ll make it up to you and this place is always open.” Stryder pointed toward the kitchen. “Who’s the graveyard cook?”
Stryder: The Second Chance Billionaire (The Billionaire Cowboys of Clearwater County Book 1) Page 7
