Page 3 of Billionaire's Coastal Haven

“Who’s the buyer?”

Francesca sets the tray on the counter, reaches over and gives me a bear hug, then unloads the treats into the display case. “New to me. I would remember if I’d seen him before. For a second, I thought Thor had walked through the door. The forearms on that man were downright sinful. Tattoos from his wrists to his shirt sleeves.” She fans herself.

Ryan frowns at her description. “Gave Francesca the name Landon for his coffee.”

Landon?

A tingle shoots down my spine. The last time I met a guy named Landon, I was ten years old playing in the conference room at Town Hall while Dad took meetings.

A teenager in bright-pink board shorts and a white polo with a popped collar found me. The memory of his sarcastic laughter makes my skin itch like poison ivy.

But it can’t be the same kid. Dad drove that family out of town when he refused their building permits. “What did he order?”

Ryan smirks. “Sugar-free peppermint mocha with macadamia nut milk.”

Francesca giggles. “Can you believe it? City boy for sure.”

She would know. As our resident billionaire heiress, she has more connections around the world than I can imagine.

I join in her laughter. A man who looks like Thor isn’t expected to drink a frilly coffee. Not if he wants to keep his man card in this town. We expect our men to be masculine and kind, our women to be feminine and spirited.Sugar freearen’t words you will ever hear come out of our mouths.

“What did he do when you told him you don’t carry sugar-free anything?”

“Oh, I didn’t. He was none the wiser.” Ryan hands me my drink. “Definitely not from around here.”

Francesca gestures to Ryan. “Baby Girl, that man’s shirt cost more than Ry’s entire wardrobe.”

I flinch at the nickname. Then internally scold myself for reacting. Dad has always called me Baby Girl, and everyone in town adopted the name as their own when I was growing up. Even Francesca, who’s lived here for less than a year, picked up on it. It’s the price I pay for my legacy, even if I do hate the nickname.

“Did Landon say what he’s going to do with the property?”

Ryan’s eyes dart to Francesca, then back to me. “What do billionaires usually do with pristine oceanfront property?”

She shoves his shoulder. “Do not lump me with the megalomaniac narcissists. My billions are not the same.”

“But you know I’m right.” He cuddles her to his side and kisses her temple. “Other people in your tax bracket don’t tend to leave things alone.”

My optimism sinks through my stomach. “They bulldoze history and build theme-park-style resorts or mega mansions.”

There’s a town in Oregon where investors built a gigantic casino. The town was never the same. Crime rates skyrocketed. Residents were priced out of the real estate market. That’s not the direction we want for Rainwater Bay or Pine Ridge County.

“What are you going to do about it?” The room goes quiet at Ryan’s question.

Dozens of eyes swivel to meet mine. Lucky smirks. “Yeah, Baby Girl. Don’t you need to run to Daddy so he can tell you what to do?”

Heat builds in my cheeks, but I force calm through my system. I didn’t sink to her level of pettiness in high school. I won’t sink to it now. “We need more information before we jump to conclusions.”

Lucky rolls her eyes. “We know your dad isn’t going to let anything happen to that house. It’s like a mausoleum.” She rests her elbows on the table and cups her chin in her hands. “What this town really needs is some way to boost our economy. A billionaire investor sounds like a good place to start. All that money flowing through our town…you should make sure that guy is building something to help the little guy, not just a palace on the hill like the Reeves.”

She’s not wrong, but like I said, I’m not going to jump to conclusions. This is my first real test to prove I deserve to be mayor when Dad retires.

I will keep our town peaceful and harmonious. I will boost the economy and keep everybody happy.

With my brightest smile on my face, I relax the grip on my coffee cup. “No worries, everyone. I’ll talk to the buyer and figure out what he has planned.”

“You’d better.” Lucky crosses her arms over her chest. “Your dad wouldn’t have let Webber sell in the first place.”

I add wattage to my smile and hide the vice constricting my chest.