Page 11 of Another Man’s Treasure

“It…might work,” I murmur, thinking through the potential complications.

“I’m so glad you’ve found the one,” she says sweetly, batting her eyes at me. “Mom and I just adore…wait, what’s his name?”

“Oz,” I say. “Don’t know his last name.”

“Well,” she chirps, “we’re gonna change that mighty soon. Congrats on finding love, big brother!”

Oz

Whiskey Business is empty at the moment, those weird hours between lunch and dinner when we get random rushes or I twiddle my thumbs with nothing to do. It’s always one or the other. I prefer the former because at least I make money that way.

“We need to talk.”

I spin away from the point of sale and glance across the bar toward the sound of the voice.

The green troll whose name I still don’t know sits on a stool, brows knit together, making him look very concerned. Or angry. And, damn it, there’s that pine and snow scent again too.

He leans forward onto the bar, ears twitching as he stares expectantly.

Ginger pops up from her spot below the counter, propping both front paws on the bar top as she stares at him.

I lift both hands. “Yeah I am so sorry about this morning, but I appreciate you playing along.” I flash him a sexy grin. “Table’s all yours, like I said.”

He shakes his head. “It ain’t that easy now, unfortunately. I need your help.”

Cocking my head to the side, I try to figure out what part of this is a joke.

A worried-looking wrinkle forms between his brows as he runs a hand through that shock of blond hair.

“Listen, I ain’t good at small talk and catchin’ flies with honey, which is what I need to do here, but I need your help. Shit.” He lets out a frustrated-sounding breath. “And now I’m repeatin’ myself. Where the hell’s Willa when I need her?”

I toss my bar rag over my shoulder. “I’m really lost. You wanna clue me in?”

He refocuses on me. “That male you were hiding from at my table, Saint Ashbourne…I met him for dinner this evening.”

The heat flushing over my face turns to ice. I left Saint, but the idea of him dating still pains me, and I purse my lips. “What you two do has nothing⁠—”

The male growls. “He’s representing the estate of a family I’m buying a ranch from. It’s located here in Pine Gulch,” he says in an irritated tone.

“Okay…I don’t see what that has to do with me, though.”

The male lets out another low growl that pulls goosebumps to the surface of my skin.

“Apparently one of the requirements of my sellers is that I be mated, and you introduced me to Saint Ashbourne as your boyfriend.”

My mouth drops open, and, at my silence, he continues, “I need you to keep up the lie until I get this sale done.”

I scoff. “What? Are you serious?”

Ginger lets out a soft growl that trails off into an unhappy-sounding whine.

The male rises as he nods, leaning over the bar and ignoring her warning. “You started this, and I don’t have other options now. I don’t give a shit about the coffee shop table, but this sale is important, and apparently, you’re the key to it going through.” He lifts his chin. “Pack a bag, please; you’re relocating to my place for a while. Or I’ll come to yours, whichever you prefer.”

My mouth drops open a second time as I stare at him in shock, trying to process his plan. After a moment, I slump against the point of sale as I shake my head.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. I’ve got a life, and while I appreciate what you did⁠—”

“Two weeks,” he says with a growl. “Give me two weeks, and I’ll owe you one, plus I’ll never take your table again.”