Page 68 of Another Man’s Treasure

She looks at Wild. “I’m giving you and Oz ‘til tomorrow to bask in your newlywed vibes, and then Kohdiy and I will have gone through most of the journals. We’ll have a plan of attack.”

Kohdiy shifts on the seat, his features deepening into a frown as the gold ring in his nose shifts.

“Not attack,” Willa emphasizes. “A path forward. Sorry, I forgot.” She looks at me. “Language is important.”

“Mmm,” Kohdiy mumbles over the table.

Wild looks up at him.

Willa chuckles. “Never thought I’d have two of you stoics in my life.” She elbows me in the side, waggling both dark green brows. “Guess you and I are just gonna have to liven up these males, am I right? They didn’t know what they were missing until they met us.”

Glancing over the table at a concerned-looking Wild and Kohdiy, I bark out a laugh. They wear matching concerned expressions, brows bunched and nostrils flared. They’re even both sitting with their arms crossed.

“That’s right, sister,” I say to Willa. “That’s right.”

Wilder

It’s been hours since we left Lizard Lick Saloon and I got to remove Oz’s plug in the sexiest of ways. He’s at work now, and I’m sitting at his kitchen island, poring over an updated version of the contract that includes the surveyor’s final numbers, indicating that I was right—the property’s quite a bit larger than I originally thought.

I love and hate that for me because it means the Sandovals will likely want more money.

Growling at the idea of further dealings with Saint Ashbourne, I sigh and tuck the documentation back into my folder. My communication watch pings, and Saint’s name hovers over the band.

Did I summon that asshole simply by thinking about him? That’s unfortunate.

I debate even answering, but the sooner we get this deal done, the sooner he can be in our rearview mirror. Directing the watch to answer, I hold back a sigh.

“Mister Lane? I assume you got the survey. Have you had a chance to review the numbers?”

“Yep.” Jackass, I tack on silently. “Sandovals seen ‘em?”

“Not yet,” he croons like he just can’t wait to share the news. “I’m meeting with Emmer shortly to discuss how they’d like to proceed. In the meantime, there’s a final walkthrough required, and I’d like to do it sooner than later. Are you available in an hour?”

“I’ll meet you there.” I’m just about to click off when he clears his throat.

“Bring that pretty little⁠—”

I click the watch off, closing out the call before I launch into a full-on tirade. After everything I shared with Emmer Sandoval, I can’t believe Saint is still acting like such a dick.

And we’re fucking stuck with him if we want to get this ranch deal done.

I can’t change that, and Oz has sworn up and down a half dozen times that I shouldn’t let it bother me, but I can’t help myself. Since I can’t change it, I decide to do what I can and head to the General Store for another grocery run.

After grabbing some snacks I’ve seen Oz and Ginger share, I return to the fridge and stock carrots, a variety of cheese and some beef jerky I’ve seen him give her a handful of times. She’s with him at work, and I take solace in that. There’s no doubt in my mind that if Saint tries anything physical with Oz, she’ll step in and rip the vampire a new asshole.

I’d prefer to do that myself, but a hellhound guardian will do in the meantime.

Of course, there are a lotta ways to hurt someone past the physical. Emotional and mental anguish is almost worse sometimes, and I don’t know how much Ginger can help with that, which is why I’d like to be able to hang at the bar while Oz is working.

I swing by on my way to get the rental truck I left parked at my cottage. I’m just gonna peek through the window and make sure nothing’s amiss and Saint’s not at the damn bar being a nuisance. Hovering at the edge of the window, I look inside, hoping he doesn’t notice me and think I’m being nuts.

Oz is behind the bar, laughing and slinging drinks, punching tickets and looking thoroughly in his element. A seemingly perpetual smile lights up his face. Ginger’s nowhere to be seen, but Lemon and Bluebell are both seated at the end of the bar, laughing and talking with him.

I don’t know the monstresses well, but what I do know is that they’re nearly as protective of Oz as Ginger is. He’s in good hands for now, and me being with Saint means that asshole can’t bug Oz in any way.

The drive out to the Sandovals’ ranch feels different today, now that I know what I know about the supposed key to the city. It’s difficult to imagine there being whole sections of Pine Gulch just hidden since Sipan’s time. Then again, Furyon told me once that, at her heart, Pine Gulch is a haven of hidden delights.

Maybe he just didn’t know how true that was.