“No, silly. Just judging by his clothes.” He started walking toward the diner and the closer he came, the more I realized I was holding my breath.
“Damn. He is one handsome man,” she mused. “I mean ooh-la-la.”
Yes, he was. With shaggy, shoulder-length dark hair tousled in the wind, broad shoulders that would have trouble fitting through a doorway, and thighs that filled out his trousers, he held the look of someone rugged, willing to get his hands dirty. However, there was something about his demeanor that screamed polished executive.
Why did my instinct scream his type of dirty was something I wanted no part of?
By the time he was only a few feet from the entrance, both Bekka and I were leaning in.
“Admit it. He’s hot,” she chided.
“Fine. Not bad,” I admitted. While his eyes were hidden behind sunglasses, the long line of his square jaw captured my attention as did his rosy, plump lips. I hadn’t realized I’d dragged the tip of my tongue across my bottom one until I caught Bekka staring at me.
“At least you’re drooling for a change. He must be six four. Easy. A good two twenty of solid muscle. Mmm. Mmm. You need to apologize to the fortune cookie.”
The shades couldn’t hide the look of annoyance on his face. Just inches from the door, he spun around military style, stiffly walking away. That’s when I noticed the cane in his hand. And the limp.
“I heard we had a newcomer to town,” she added, as if no big deal. “Not just a tourist passing through.”
“Meaning?”
“Oh, yeah,” Bart chimed in, obviously enjoying partaking in our private conversation. “That’s likely Mr. Prince.”
“Who?” I threw out. “And how do you know?”
Bart snuffled. “I take care of several vacation homes in the area. I had a special last-minute request to open up their house on Stag’s Leap.”
Bekka gasped. “You mean that big chalet?”
“Yup. I don’t know anything about the family except that they got money. You should have seen the list of goodies I had to take to the house.”
I eyed Bart skeptically. “Goodies?”
“You know, expensive food, wine, and liquors. Only the best.”
Great. Another rich asshole in town. Definitely an arrogant type. I could smell it from here.
Tilly appeared as if from a magic puff of smoke. “Ask your daddy about Baptiste Prince. Stowe wasn’t always the mecca of tourism that it is today.” She’d directed the comment to Bart.
Bekka and I rolled our eyes.
The diner owner caught our exchange, offering a nasty look for such a lovely person. “Anywho, your daddy was on the city council back then as well as being a firefighter. When the fire station burnt down, there was no money to rebuild it. That would mean a forty-five-minute drive for any firefighters to come from the closest town. Mr. Prince forked out the money for the new station, new fire trucks. New everything. He didn’t stop there. He invested in this town hugely. Several businesses were touched by his generosity.”
“So this is one of his sons,” Bekka purred, highly interested in the topic. Why did I have the distinct feeling her interest was all about the man’s money? Not that it was a bad thing. But I wasn’t interested. Men with money were often more trouble than they were worth.
“Stop wrinkling your nose and looking so smug, missy,” Tilly reprimanded, pointing her bony finger at me. “You know that grant you got for your small business, the one that helped youopen your doors? Well, that was all because Mr. Prince set up a fund to try and lure small businesses into the area like yours. He even bought up some old rundown commercial sites, either renovating or tearing them down and building new ones for the project. Like the building Sunlight and Sparkles resides in.”
I sat back, properly chastised. She was right in that there’d been no way of opening my doors without the grant.
She nodded out the window. “Any son of Baptiste is a friend of mine.”
Both Bekka and I returned our attention to the handsome stranger. Maybe he wasn’t the arrogant ass I believed him to be.
Soon, Mr. Prince disappeared around the corner of the building and for a brief few seconds, I kept the image of his face in my mind. I hadn’t realized I was fanning my face until I dragged myself from the window.
“What?”
Bekka giggled. “You’re having a hot flash.”
