Mr. Braxton returned with a tray of tea, coffee, and pastries. Maryn had lost herself for a few minutes in The Last Mile by David Baldacci. She loved that book. Now her stomach was churning too much to eat anything. Where was this guy? She’d been here for over fifteen minutes and was beginning to wonder if he planned on speaking to her at all. Typical rich jerk, thought everyone was just waiting around for him all day.
She shook out her hands and focused on snapping a few pictures of the office. If only Mr. Shaffer had allowed a camera crew to accompany her. Her paltry skills at photography would have to do.
“My apologies, ma’am. Mr. Shaffer will be joining us shortly.”
“You sure about that?”
He cleared his throat. “Um, yes, ma’am. Can I offer you some tea?”
She hid a smile. This guy had missed his era and continent. He should’ve lived in eighteenth century England.
“No, thank you. Water would be heavenly though.”
“But of course. Sparkling, bottled, or tap?”
“Is the tap good?” Being raised in Southern California, she’d hated the tap water and remembered begging her mom to put flavor in hers. Now she drank bottled.
“It is lovely, ma’am, straight out of a mountain spring.”
“Oh? Tap sounds fabulous.” She’d never had water from a real mountain spring, only the promises of one from The Fresh Water Man.
He left and she drummed her fingers on her jeans then stood and paced. Mr. Braxton returned with a glass of ice water. Maryn took a long drink and grinned at him. “Best water I’ve ever had.”
“Thank you, ma’am. Can I interest you in a novel to read while you wait?”
“Be straight with me. Is he coming?”
Mr. Braxton pressed his lips together. “I assure you he is.”
“Is he ditching me?”
Mr. Braxton’s face reddened. “No, ma’am, he’s just… freshening up.”
Maryn tilted her head to the side. Tucker Shaffer cared to freshen up for her. That didn’t fit his persona. “Why?”
“You arrived a bit earlier than anticipated and he was…” Mr. Braxton’s mouth twisted then he spit out the word, “Sweaty.”
Maryn laughed. She always tried to be a few minutes early to appointments rather than late. “I don’t mind sweaty.” In fact, she fully appreciated a man who was willing to sweat.
“You would’ve minded this,” a deep voice rumbled from behind her.
Maryn whirled around to get her first look at Tucker Shaffer. My, oh, my. The man must’ve sweated on more than one occasion to get a build like that. Dressed in an untucked button-down shirt and jeans, he was over six feet tall with broad shoulders, a thick waist, and legs like tree trunks. She doubted anyone would dare call him overweight, but he was definitely… well-built. His dark hair was long, almost to his chin, and curled slightly. His mouth was a great shape with a bowed upper lip and full lower one and his face was that hard-working kind of handsome, the type that spent a lot of time outdoors but was still almost too good-looking. His eyes really drew her in. They were dark brown and expressive. Those eyes had stories to tell and she planned to hear them. She knew this was the interview that would guarantee her a successful career and as long as he didn’t pick her up and toss her out of here, she was definitely overstaying her welcome today.
Maryn grinned at him and took a step forward with her hand outstretched. “Mr. Shaffer?”
“Tucker,” his voice was almost a growl, like he didn’t use it very often. He walked across the room and engulfed her smaller hand with his. Maryn wondered if she’d ever liked a handshake as much as she liked this one. He cleared his throat and his voice was clearer this time, but still deep enough that a little thrill of pleasure rushed through her. “You’re Ms. Howe?”
“Maryn to you.” She gave him a saucy wink.
He smiled and the effect was dynamic. No wonder he was an overnight success. She itched to take a picture, but didn’t want to tick him off in the first five minutes.
Tucker released her hand and gestured to the comfortable chairs by the fire. Maryn sank into the soft leather. He sat kitty-corner to her. “Would you like something different to drink?”
Maryn shook her head. “I have this delicious water.”
“Brax, a Dr. Pepper, please.”
“Yes, sir.”
Maryn could swear that was a sarcastic “sir”. His help was interesting, to say the least.
Tucker grinned roguishly at the man. Mr. Braxton shook his head slightly and strode from the room.
Maryn focused on this enigmatic man next to her. Why was he a hermit? Everything about him screamed charisma and he was definitely handsome enough and wealthy enough to have scores of women begging for attention. She knew she’d beg if she wasn’t so prideful and wasn’t sort of dating James. Ah, James would have to forgive her, if Tucker Shaffer showed the slightest bit of interest, she’d be a goner. It wasn’t like she’d committed to date James exclusively.
“Thank you for gracing me with your presence.” That had come out kind of bratty. “I mean, I’m ecstatic to be here and be allowed to interview you. It’s a pleasure.”
“Wasn’t really my idea.” He studied his large hands as he spoke.
“Whose idea was it?”
“PR.” He gave her a tilted smile that revealed a small scar in the corner of his lip. Maryn clasped her hands in her lap to resist touching that scar. Actors would replicate that sexy look and no one would blame them. Holy moly, she needed to focus.
“My PR team is a pain in the butt,” he said.
A loud chortle came out before Maryn clamped her hand to her lips. “I know how that is, my editor is the same.”
Mr. Braxton brought Tucker’s soda.
“Thanks, Brax.”
Maryn noticed the familiarity. These two were playing a part, she was sure of it.
“Sir.” Mr. Braxton quickly left the room.
Tucker sipped from the can, set it on a side table, then spread his hands wide. “So, Maryn, interview away.”
Maryn couldn’t remember a single question she had. All she could think about was the size of those hands and secretly wish they were holding hers still. She pulled out her phone, grateful for notes and opened the app. Sadly, before she could ask any of the reasonable, well-thought out questions she’d agonized over, it popped out, “Why are you such a recluse?”
Tucker pumped his eyebrows and grinned at her. “If you had a place like this, would you want to go deal with society?”
She recognized deflection when she heard it. No matter. She’d get to the grit before the sun set and she needed to go check into The Angler’s Lodge. Tomorrow she’d have to wake up early to drive the two hours to Idaho Falls and make her return flight, but she was going to enjoy today. “This is a fabulous house. Can you give me a tour?”
“Sure.” Tucker stood.
Maryn rose next to him. Even with two inches on her boots, she only came to his chin. Curse being short. Tucker probably liked tall models to compliment his large stature. Not that it mattered—she was here for an exclusive interview, nothing more. She’d better remind herself of that every few minutes.
As they walked, she thought to ask one of her questions and found that she really wanted to know the answer, “What do you do to keep busy? Give me a typical day in the life of Tucker Shaffer.”
“Everyone probably assumes I sit around doing nothing all day.”
“If they assume that they obviously haven’t seen how built you are.”
He chuckled and directed her into the great room. Maryn got distracted for a minute gushing over the view and then all the different wood work. From the fireplace mantle to the wood encasing the windows to the gorgeous cabinetry, she was smitten by this house. “Let me just stand here by this beautiful fireplace for a minute and thaw out,” she said. “Why’s it so cold up here? It’s October third for heaven’s sake.”
Tucker glanced down at her with a smirk. “It’
s snowed in September before.”
Maryn shivered and moved closer to the fire and to him. “Okay, answer my question then we’ll finish the tour.”
Tucker rubbed his large palms together and studied the flames in the gas fireplace. “I try to balance my days—exercise, work around the house and yard, business, and programming.”
She tilted her head to the side. “I’ve heard some tales about all the time you spend doing volunteer work. You like to fix things and teach people how to work, in addition to donating large sums of money.”
“You really do your research, don’t you?”
Maryn looked up and down his large frame. “You have no idea.”
He blushed and she absolutely loved it. He had no clue how good-looking and powerful he was. He was so different from the wealthy men she’d met who thought they owned the world, the powerful men who thought they owned everyone in the world, and the good-looking men who thought they should own her and every other woman.
“So, for exercise, you like to…”
“Run, lift weights, box, and I get a lot of movement working outside, driving my gardeners crazy.”
“Nice. I loved the gardener at the estate my mother worked on. He was so patient with me and always let me pick the flowers…” She trailed off as he listened to her like it was the most important thing he had to do today. “The programming?”
He swallowed and gave her a kind smile, not commenting on her revelation that she’d been the hired help. She was so beneath him socially it wasn’t even funny. If you cared about social ladders, which she didn’t.
“Everyone assumes after I designed Friend Zone I was done, but I’ve created a lot of other games and apps. I just market them under different names.”
“Why?”
He spread his hands and smirked at her. “Avoid taxes, why else?”
She laughed. “Okay, I’ll buy that. Whose names?”
“Whoever I want to share the money with—usually Mama Porter, Johnson, and Brax.” He shrugged like it was no big deal.
Maryn’s eyes widened. “That’s pretty impressive, Tucker Shaffer. Hey. Are you just trying to impress me?”
He smiled at her. “I don’t know, is it working?”
“So far it is.” The warmth of the fire and the warmth of his gaze both made her a bit flushed. “Okay. I’m ready to finish the tour, then I want to sit by this fireplace and grill you some more.”
Tucker blew out a long breath. “Don’t you have enough information already?”
Maryn laughed. “Yeah, I’m going to print a premier article and all I’ve got is how you spend your days and how good-looking you are.”
Tucker grinned at that and the scar in the corner of his lips was tempting her. She wanted to know how he got it, after she kissed it, that is. Whoa, she needed to focus. “Sorry,” she explained. “My mouth tends to run too much.”
“No, you’re great. I feel very… comfortable with you.”
Maryn grinned.
“But I don’t like my life being on display. I’m not sure why I let them talk me into this.”
“Come on, big guy, has it been that hard on you?”
He chuckled at that. “Not so far, but you know what they say about beautiful reporters?”
Maryn bit at her lip to hide a smile. “No, what’s that?”
“They could talk a saint into hell.”
“Oh, that’s awful. I have no desire to talk anyone into that place. I’m going to heaven to be with my Granny Ellie, thank you very much.” Maryn pressed her lips together. She had to stop revealing too much. Be professional, she reminded herself.
Tucker placed a hand on her back and directed her toward the front staircase again. She loved the warmth of his large palm on her back. “I’m sorry about your Granny Ellie.”
“She’s actually not mine, but my best friend’s. Granny Ellie just adopted me and I miss her. She was the one person who always appreciated my snide comments.”
Tucker looked sharply at her. “You don’t have family of your own?”
“No one to brag about. I have my mom. She tried. Worked her butt off in more ways than one so I could have some sort of life.” Family of her own? In her childish dreams.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“No, no, no, we aren’t here to talk about me.” Maryn mentally shook herself. Why was she opening up to this guy? She needed her head examined. Yes, she tended to talk too much and use funny expressions, but she usually employed those techniques to put people at ease, not tell her life story. It had taken James two years to know as much about her as she’d revealed to Tucker in twenty minutes. Cripes! “Tell me more about your volunteer work. Is it always local?”
Tucker gave her an appraising look, but told her a little about his latest humanitarian trip to Ethiopia where they’d been able to dig safer wells and help some villages plant community gardens. Maryn was more and more impressed with this man. Today was looking to be one of the most interesting and productive of her career and the man at her side was looking to be a dream come true, for a reporter with good interview skills that is. Not for a woman who already had a sort of boyfriend.
Tuck had to resist touching the beautiful Maryn as they sauntered through his house. She oohed and aahed over the woodwork, the huge windows showcasing the forest and the river beyond, and the decorations that were rustic and comfortable. He’d never been around such a small person with so much energy. He liked her bold manner of speaking and he loved the way her face lit up as she talked. When he met her gaze and those blue eyes sparkled, he talked himself into believing the sparkle was just for him.
They’d finished the tour and were lounging in the enclosed, heated patio off the back of his great room. Mama Porter bustled out of the kitchen with a tray of steaming food. Tuck stood quickly and took the tray from her. “You don’t need to serve us,” he said.
“Of course I do. We’ve got a guest.” She beamed at Maryn. “And she’s such a beauty. Hello, love, I’m Mama Porter. It’s wonderful to have you here.”
Maryn stood and held out her hand. Mama Porter placed it between her plump fingers.
“Thank you. This smells exquisite. I’m Maryn.”
“Oh, I know who you are. Have you got all the information you need for your article, my dear?” Mama Porter released Maryn’s hand, gestured for her to sit, and started uncovering platters of orange chicken, ham-fried rice, and chow mein.
“No, actually.” Maryn cocked her head to the side and pinned him with a stare. “Tucker is very skilled at evading some of the questions I need answered and getting information out of me that I don’t usually share.”
Tucker rubbed at his suddenly warm neck. Maryn was a professional and she’d come to get an exclusive interview. Of course she wouldn’t be happy to have pictures of his house and a little bit of inside information about the different products he’d created and his latest humanitarian trip.
He’d tried all afternoon to get to know her better, but all he really obtained was she was born and raised in southern California, with her mother, but her best friend, Alyssa, and adopted Granny were her real family. She didn’t surf because her best friend had a deformed foot so they’d never tried surfing, but she loved to swim in the ocean.
Mama Porter darted a gaze at him. She knew how much he appreciated his privacy, but she’d been with him for five years now and treated him like one of the sons she’d lost. “I wish I could reveal all his secrets dear, but that’s not my place.”
Tucker heard a low growl escape from his throat. He clamped his lips to keep it in.
Mama Porter gave him a warning look as Maryn eyed him with concern. Why didn’t she jump and run away? Most women would probably be terrified of how big and unwelcoming he was. He smiled to himself. Maryn made it impossible to not be welcoming as she teased him and made him smile.
“I hope you enjoy Chinese food,” Mama Porter said.
“I love it.” Maryn grinned. “Thank you for dinner. I’m
sure it will be delicious.”
Mama Porter scurried away.
“Won’t you be joining us?” Maryn asked before the patio door closed and sealed them alone again. There was a little trepidation in her voice. She was scared of him and who could blame her? A teeny little thing and he probably looked like an ogre with his huge body. He was evil, but she couldn’t know that. No one but his closest friends knew and would ever know.
“No, dear.” Mama Porter poked her head through the door. “I’ll give you that chance to get him to open up.”
Tucker glared at her, but she simply blew him a kiss and banged into the house. An awkward silence followed. Tucker offered Maryn the fried rice first, dishing up his plate with each dish after she’d taken what she wanted. He was pleasantly surprised that she took a decent serving size and actually started eating. The few young women he’d tried to date when he first made his money had claimed to never be hungry. He didn’t understand how someone couldn’t be hungry as he loved to eat almost as much as he loved to be left alone.
“So…” Maryn set down her fork and faced him bravely. “Are you going to answer any of my questions?”
“I’ve answered… some of them.” He pushed noodles around on his plate. The fear of her discovering his secrets closed his throat and made him feel claustrophobic, like he was still hiding in a cave in Afghanistan with nothing but his pistol, semi-automatic rifle, and Johnson as protection. He took a swallow of water. “What would you like to know?”
“First of all, why are you a recluse?”
“You’re some big time writer and the burning question is the same one that everyone asks me?” He bit at his cheek. He was being too harsh.
Maryn arched her delicate eyebrows and waited.
Pushing some food around on his plate, he finally muttered, “Honestly, it’s just the same old story.”
“Which is?”
The Feisty One: A Billionaire Bride Pact Romance Page 2
