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“I’m a professor. What am I going to do with a dude ranch?”
“Dig it up, then sell it?”
“Don’t you get it?”
“Spell it out for me.”
“You show me the area in the picture…”
Gina wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stave off the sudden chill his words invoked. She began to shake her head, and he held up one hand, palm facing outward to stop her.
“Then, once I find what she gave her life looking for, I’ll sign the place over to you, and you’ll never have to see me again.”
CHAPTER 11
“Are you fricking nuts?”
Gina winced at the volume of Jase’s voice and the horrified expression on his face.
“You can’t let Old Moldy back on the property. You can’t let him dig around. Especially there.”
“I’m not going to be ‘letting’ him do anything. It’s his place now. And he isn’t old or even very moldy.”
Jase’s eyes narrowed at her final comment. “You on his side now?”
“I’m on the same side I’ve always been on. The side of Nahua Springs Ranch,” Gina clarified. “Which will be gone unless I find a way to get it back. I don’t know about your checking account, but mine is tapped. So the only way I’m gonna be able to save our home is by doing this.”
Jase let his gaze wander from the top of her now-tangled hair, over the low-cut neckline and high-cut hem of Amberleigh’s dress, to Ashleigh’s spiky copper heels. “Looks to me like you’ve been workin’ on that already.”
Gina started for the door. She really needed to change out of this getup and back into her own clothes. “I don’t know what that means.”
“Did you sleep with him?”
Gina froze with her hand on the door. “Do not screw with me, Jase; I’ve had a very bad day.”
“You think mine’s been any better?”
She turned. “What happened?”
“What didn’t?” He threw up his arms. “I wake up and you’ve taken off. I’m stuck with the guests.” Jase yanked the ends of his short hair. “Those blondes are enough to drive any man mad.”
“With desire?”
He grimaced. “I’m rather stick my dick in a knothole.”
“Thanks for that image.”
“At least a knothole’s quiet.”
He had a point.
“Then the old folks keep singing campfire songs, when the old guy isn’t reciting dirty limericks. Which the kid likes but his dad does not.”
“I already caught the matinee of this show. You aren’t going to get any sympathy from me.”
“I don’t deal with the guests.”
“At least not very well,” Gina agreed. “Unfortunately, you’re going to have to deal with them from now on.”
