Renee Andrews - Small-Town Billionaire

She scooped up the bag of materials Dana had brought her last night, as well as a container filled with trail mix she’d made this morning for the group. Then she looped her other arm through her purse and shifted to open the door, while the gorgeous rich boy leaned against the fence eyeing her slow progress.

The car door opened partially and then started back on her before she got all the way out, slamming her shin. “Ouch!”

He reached for his crutches.

“No, I’ve got it,” she said through gritted teeth.

With a grunt, Ryan let go of the crutches, then leaned against the fence again. “Looks like Onyx isn’t the only stubborn one around here,” he said.

Maribeth wanted to reply with some snappy remark, but the sight of him caused all form of speech to lodge in her throat. His arms were crossed, drawing attention to those muscular biceps and a hard-plated chest. Add to that eyes that appeared even bluer in the morning sunlight and a smile that looked more genuine than confident, and—billionaire or not—he could be the poster guy for every woman’s temptation.

And that included Maribeth.

Okay, God. So I was wrong. He’s tempting. But I can handle it. I’m not going to fall for a guy like him again. But even so, if You don’t mind, make it easier on me and send him home.

With all of her materials balanced in both arms, she kicked the car door closed and started toward the barn the same way she did every morning, except that there was no way to get there without walking near the guy leaning against the fence and grinning.

Did You have to make him so good-looking, Lord?

She took a deep breath, let it out and asked, “Something funny?” Then she silently reprimanded herself for her snarky tone.

“Nooope,” he drawled, and she suspected he was trying hard to sound country. He pulled it off fairly well, but she wouldn’t tell him that. “I’m just enjoying this amazing morning,” he said. “Some sky, isn’t it?” He tilted his head toward the fields, and for the first time today, Maribeth absorbed her surroundings beyond the appealing rich guy.

The green fields had a golden hue as the sun began its ascent and bathed the grass in yellow light. White Charolais cattle gathered in several groups on the nearest hills like earthbound clouds; Fallon, Red and the other docile horses huddled near the barn, apparently waiting for John to bring out a fresh round of sweet feed. A rooster crowed in the distance, chickens clucked, cows mooed and horses neighed, each sound adding to the appeal of the scene, as did the combined smells of hay, worn leather and sweet feed.

But Ryan’s comment about the sky pulled her attention away from the normal sights, sounds and smells of a morning on the farm to the reddish-orange hue claiming dominion above the colors of the land. “Wow,” she whispered.

He nodded. “I’ve never seen a sky that red in Chicago, but that could be because the smog from the city covers it up. Either way, this one is pretty incredible.”

She couldn’t argue with the truth. “Yeah, it is.”

“What’s that saying?” he asked. “Something about red skies at morning?”

Still captivated by the scene, Maribeth quoted, “‘Red skies at night, sailors delight; red skies at morning, sailors take warning.’ It’s actually taken from a verse in the Bible. I believe it’s in Matthew.”

“I wouldn’t know about whether it’s in the Bible,” he said, “but I have heard the saying before.”

His honesty about his lack of Bible knowledge took her by surprise. In this area of the country, “the buckle of the Bible Belt,” as it was called, most everyone was at least familiar with what was or wasn’t in the Good Book. And if you didn’t know that much about it, you sure wouldn’t readily admit it. But Ryan appeared nonchalant about his admission. As if it were no big deal.

Maribeth suddenly thought she knew why God put this man in her path. It wasn’t to tempt her; it was because she was meant to help him. “We have a Bible study here every day of the camp. I’ll probably use that verse in the one we have this afternoon. If the weather does get bad, we’ll have the Bible study in the barn instead of on the trails, so you could come.” A sense of rightness filled her with the invitation. He might have everything money could buy, but he apparently didn’t have God in his life. And she knew what a difference He could make.

Ryan seemed to consider her words but then shook his head. “I don’t think so. I’ve got several conference calls scheduled for this afternoon and reports to review.”

Maribeth had no doubt the head of the company could adjust his schedule if he wanted, and clearly, Ryan didn’t want to.

“So we’re in for some bad weather?” he asked.

She decided it best not to push the Bible study request. If she was meant to get him thinking about God, she’d do it slowly and patiently. Maybe she could control the temptation of having Ryan Brooks around if she were focused on introducing him to the Lord. “I didn’t watch the weather report,” she admitted, “but if the saying holds true, then yeah, I guess we are. And I’ve never known the sky to be wrong about that. My daddy actually gauges his fishing trips in the Gulf around the sky more than the weather report.”

“Your father goes deep-sea fishing?” he asked.

“It’s a popular thing to do where we live—where they live, I mean,” she corrected.

“Where’s that?” he asked.

“In Destin, Florida, where I grew up. We ate a lot of fresh seafood that he caught on his weekend fishing trips. Daddy works for an office supply company during the week, but he lives for the weekends when he can go fishing. And whenever our friends and family came to town, they usually wanted to go fishing with Dad.”

“My father and I talked about deep-sea fishing together sometime, but we never got around to it.” He opened his mouth as if he were going to say more, but then stopped and took his attention back to that crimson sky. “So you grew up at the beach?”

“We didn’t live on the beach, but we were very close, walking distance,” she said.

“I’ve always heard people who grow up on a coast never leave. And your family is still there?” Those blue eyes returned their focus to Maribeth, and she felt oddly uncomfortable in the way he studied her, as though he were trying to put the pieces of her past into place.

She’d rather her past stay put where it was, but she wasn’t going to ignore his question. “Yes, they’re still in Destin.”

“Are you close to your family?” he continued.

Maribeth glanced toward the log cabin and wished Dana would come on outside to get her out of this conversation. “Yes, I am,” she said, and when he looked as though he doubted it, she added, “I love my parents and my two sisters very much, and I didn’t leave Destin to get away from them, if that’s what you’re implying.”

He lifted his palms. “Hey, I didn’t mean to imply anything. I’m just making conversation.” Then he smiled, and Maribeth tried to relax. He was making typical getting-to-know-you conversation, and she’d had these same questions asked several times when she first moved to Claremont. Yet somehow having Ryan Brooks ask them seemed too personal.

Be polite, she silently told herself. This was Dana’s brother, after all, and he couldn’t help it if he was so very similar to the actual reason she’d left Destin.

“What made you leave the beach for a town like Claremont? Since you own your store, I’m assuming you could’ve started it in Destin, or in any other town. I’d never even heard of Claremont until Dana met John Cutter. How did you find the place?”

She’d also been asked that question quite often when she first relocated to the tiny town, and even though she hadn’t heard it in a while, she recited her trademark answer. “I wanted to experience life in a small town,” she said, forcing a smile, “and I wanted to start a business on my own.”