Then Came You (The Wilde Sisters #2)
Read Then Came You (The Wilde Sisters #2) Online
Authors: Marianne Rice
Then Came You
The Wilde Sisters, Book 2
Marianne Rice
Then Came You
Copyright © 2016 by Marianne Rice.
All rights reserved.
First Print Edition: March 2016
Limitless Publishing, LLC
Kailua, HI 96734
Formatting: Limitless Publishing
ISBN-13: 978-1-68058-556-8
ISBN-10: 1-68058-556-8
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
For Stephanie.
My sister. My best friend. My ear. My shoulder.
My number one supporter.
Don’t ever stop accepting kisses for bribes.
Table of Contents
Grayson
Nothing good ever came from an attorney’s summons. Grayson Montgomery straightened his Brooks Brothers navy tie and checked his Rolex for the tenth time in the past fifteen minutes. Maybe it wasn’t an official summons, but the letter he received from the law offices of Summers and Brackett made it sound like it would turn that way if he didn’t show for the reading of a will.
Not wanting to get his family involved, he kept the unusual request to himself, leaving the job site in Aruba and heading for Maine in secrecy. Grayson paced the waiting area impatiently. The small-town attorney better have good reason for pulling Grayson away from the four thousand things he had to do. Between the stress of branching off from his father’s architecture firm and balancing too many projects, to his overbearing and snobbish grandmother who’d been pressuring him into marrying for the business benefits, Grayson needed to catch a break.
And the tone in the letter he’d received and shared with Kyle Powers, his personal attorney, didn’t sound like that break would be coming any time soon.
Sighing with frustration, he got up, refastened the bottom button of his suit coat, and plastered on the well-mannered smile he’d inherited from his family.
“Excuse me, Miss…”
“Melanie.” The receptionist smiled flirtatiously, never mind she had at least twenty years on him. Being a cougar was the latest thing in New York; apparently Maine was no different.
“Yes, Melanie. I need to get back to New York tonight. Can you tell Mr. Summers he’ll need to reschedule our meeting?” He hoped to meet with Powers tonight before jetting back to Aruba to finish the hotel. One snafu after another with this one, but he wouldn’t let that deter him from branching off. And proving a point.
“No need, Melanie. Mr. Montgomery, please come in.” Grayson turned and studied the short, balding man. “Thank you for coming in on such short notice.” Frank Summers gestured toward a faux leather chair in front of his large, messy desk. “Please. Have a seat. Would you like coffee? Water?”
“No. Thank you. I’m fine. I am in a rush, though. My lawyer and I are confused as to the message in your letter.” Powers had offered to come with him, but Grayson didn’t want to bother his attorney with the travel with his wife expecting to go into labor at any minute. “I understand a Mrs. Bethany Davenport has passed away and mentioned leaving me something…priceless which must be handled by me, and me alone, as you put it? I’m sorry to say I do not have any recollection as to who Bethany Davenport is.” Grayson cleared his throat. “Was.”
“Indeed. She mentioned that to me the last time we updated her will. Which is why she left you a letter as well.”
“A letter as well as…what? I still don’t know what she left me and why.”
Frank Summers loosened his tie and averted his eyes. Clearing his throat, he plastered on a fake smile. “She left you her daughter.”
“Excuse me?” Grayson laughed. “Clearly you’ve mistaken me for someone else. People don’t leave strangers their children. I have no desire to look after someone else’s child. Surely the girl has relatives who will care for her.”
“Yes, uh. Mrs. Davenport explains it all in the letter. ” Frank sniffed and reached across his desk holding out an envelope. “You see…Madeline Davenport is
your
daughter.”
***
Thyme
“Here you go, cutie.” Thyme Wilde handed Maddie her tattered stuffed dog and kissed the girl on her forehead. “We’ll bake peanut butter chocolate chip cookies tomorrow, okay?”
Maddie nodded and cuddled her doggy close to her chest.
It broke Thyme’s heart to see the little girl hurting. Granted, she’d been handling the death of her parents remarkably well. Bedtime was the worst. Maddie would cuddle the stuffing out of her little dog and hold back tears while Thyme read her books about princesses and fairytales, the stories her mother used to read to her.
Bethany and Eric Davenport had worked a lot and didn’t often get to tuck their daughter in at naptime, but they were almost always home at night. Unless they were on a business trip. And the last one they took ended all possibilities of ever tucking their daughter in again.
Thyme closed Maddie’s bedroom door and headed downstairs to finish the laundry. When accepting this nanny job a few months ago, she never expected to be solely responsible for another human being. The first time the Davenports were gone overnight Thyme was a mess. She had been nervous that Maddie would choke on her dinner, fall down the stairs and break her tiny, little bones, or even run away, once again showing how irresponsible Thyme Wilde was.
She’d been tempted to call her sister Rayne, who was a new mom herself, but she knew her oldest sister, Sage, would make fun of her for being an idiot. Thyme needed to prove she could do this job on her own.
It took her six years to earn a college degree in English, her fifth major. Not knowing what she wanted to do with her life, she’d signed on with a temp agency, but quit after six months. Thinking retail was her thing, she’d worked at a few shops in the mall, but got bored with those as well. Thankfully her sisters had successful jobs and hired her whenever they needed back-up.
Sage was a party planner. They bickered a lot, but Thyme still loved her. Sage would often call Thyme when she needed help setting up for an event, or needed a waitress or glorified secretary. The job wasn’t too bad and helped put food in her mouth.
Rayne, the happily married middle sister, owned a gym in Portland. Thyme loved working the front counter and teaching kickboxing and Zumba classes. She filled in a lot when Rayne was pregnant, and had been working steadily while her sister enjoyed motherhood. It was spending time with her nephew Owen that made Thyme realize she was actually pretty good with kids. Granted, Owen had just learned to crawl and would be happy with anyone as long as they changed his poopy diaper and fed him.
When she came across an ad for a nanny, Thyme jumped at the opportunity. Decent money and a roof over her head so she could move out of the crappy apartment she shared with a loser she’d found online to hang out with the cutest five-year-old she’d ever met.
Thyme scooped the laundry out of the dryer and placed it in a wicker basket. She sniffed it as she folded the tiny dresses and princess underwear, wiping her tears on the back of her hand.
Poor kid. Thyme had only been Maddie’s nanny for four months and now she was all the precious girl had. The family attorney mentioned a guardian being contacted, but he didn’t reveal too much to her. Confidentiality and all that crap.
It was a shame that no family stepped forward to be with Maddie. Thyme stayed home with her and distracted her with field trips and cookies and building forts in the living room, hoping at some point an aunt or grandmother or someone would break the news to Maddie. But no one came. Only flowers upon flowers from business associates and condolences sent from a few people claiming to be friends or neighbors.
Thyme didn’t attend the wake or the funeral and stayed with Maddie twenty-four-seven, waiting for the onslaught of family who were sure to come and offer comfort. Instead Mr. Summers, the family’s attorney, stopped by and asked her if she’d take care of Maddie until her new guardian arrived. Thyme figured the guardian would come to the funeral, or call, or heck, write a letter.
Only silence waited on the other side of the door.
The Davenports’ funeral was a week ago, and still no one came to offer support to little Maddie. She’d called Mr. Summers every day asking for news and every day he responded with, “We’re still trying to contact Miss Davenport’s guardian.”
The poor girl needed the love of her family now more than ever before. But it sounded like her family was as limited as Thyme’s. At least Thyme had two sisters. Maddie Davenport had no one.
***
Grayson
Grayson turned on to Asters Lane, briefly taking in the view of the Atlantic on his right. It was too dark to appreciate the beauty of Maine’s coastal line. He’d never seen a night this black. New York City, even in January when the sun set at five-thirty, always remained lit and full of life. Not that he had much time or interest in taking advantage of the nightlife. Work and family obligations kept him busy for nearly twenty hours a day.
The full moon shone down on the rocky coast, casting light among the small wind-blown piles of snow. He imagined the view would be breathtaking in the daylight. Something he didn’t plan on seeing.
Normally he enjoyed the luxury of driving, something else that didn’t happen in the city. Had the circumstances of his visit been different, Grayson may have actually appreciated the power of the Mercedes beneath his hands. He needed to see this
inheritance
with his own eyes. Grayson reached into his coat pocket and patted the letter the lawyer gave him. Bethany Davenport was thorough. And conniving.
Grayson gripped the steering wheel tighter and clenched his teeth. Years of boarding school, classes on etiquette, hours and hours of grooming wasted on one illustrious night with an older woman who used him for his sperm.
The navigation system announced his destination on his left. Sighing, he turned into the driveway and took in the quaint New England-style cottage. It had a slightly obstructed view of the ocean, but with a few upgrades to the siding and windows it could be worth at least a million. Location, location, location.
Slowly, he unfolded his long legs from the vehicle and straightened his tie. From what Summers told him, the girl was staying with her nanny. All he wanted was one quick look at her and then he’d determine his next step. Paternity test most likely.
The upstairs was dark but there were lights on downstairs. He cleared his throat, straightened his tie, and rang the doorbell.
No one answered. Grayson put his ear to the door to see if he could hear movement. Definitely noise. A television? Music? He cupped his hand around his ear and leaned against the front door just as it opened.
“Holy shit! Who the hell are you?”
With as much dignity as he could muster, Grayson righted himself from the front stoop and brushed his hand down his suit.
“I’m—” He stopped short as the dim light from the living room glowed around the short, curvy woman who filled up the doorway like an angel from heaven. A few stray chocolate curls escaped from her ponytail, making her fresh, clean face stand out. No, it was the large, amber eyes that took over the upper third of her face that made her stand out.
Grayson’s gaze moved lower. No, it was her pink, plump mouth that stood out. Unable to control himself, his gaze continued the trip south and he sucked in a breath when his eyes stopped short on the soft mounds of flesh poking through the gap of her pink satin robe.
Or possibly it was her puckered nipples that stood out the most. The woman before him caused a stir below his belt. He was used to tall, thin models, not curvaceous women with average looks who had killer sex appeal.
“You’re…?” the beauty before him asked.
Remembering his manners, he cleared his throat and stuck out his hand. “My name is Grayson. Grayson Montgomery.”
“Well, Grayson, Grayson Montgomery, what brings such a handsome stranger to my doorstep at this hour?” The woman made no effort to tighten the belt around her waist, nor did she seem embarrassed to be caught wearing nearly nothing. Maybe he had the wrong house.
“And you are?”
“Thyme.” She crossed her arms, thankfully—unfortunately—covering up her chest.
Grayson looked at his Rolex. “It’s just about nine.”
“Yes, I’m aware. And why are you here?” The flirt had disappeared, replaced by a skeptical woman who now tightened her belt and started pulling the front door closed on him.
“No, please. Frank Summers sent me.”
That stopped her from closing the door in his face and her beautiful, almond-shaped eyes squinted. “Why?”
“I need to speak with Bethany Davenport’s nanny. I didn’t catch her name.”
“Thyme,” she huffed.
“I know. It’s late. I’m sorry but I just flew in tonight and didn’t want to wait any longer. Do you know who the nanny is?”
“I’m her nanny. Was her nanny.” The beautiful woman sighed.
“Oh.” Wow. Five years of Ms. Donna Klendith’s school of etiquette didn’t prepare him for this sort of awkward situation. “I guess we need to talk.”
“Why is that?”
He didn’t want to have this discussion in a doorway, but knew she wouldn’t let him in the house without knowing the motive. Grayson supposed her caution was a good thing. A nanny who would invite strange men into the house at night with a young girl sleeping upstairs would most likely not keep her job for very long.
Rubbing his hand across his typically smooth face, he scratched his five o’clock shadow and let out an exasperated sigh. “I apologize. We got off on the wrong foot. I suppose my knocking on your door at nine at night didn’t fair well for me. Please, Ms…”