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“I’m well aware of that, since you always seem to have one or two.” Chance takes a step toward the older man. “Please stop by and share any additional issues you may have, but just a reminder, Mayor. I’m not my father.”
“You sure about that?” Mr. Vance narrows his gaze even further until his eyes are practically slits. His face is getting redder by the minute. “Your old man threw money around like it fixed everything. What happens when that money goes away? Huh?”
“Dad!”
Chance, Miles, and I turn as one at the female voice.
Carly’s rushing down the sidewalk toward us, her eyes wide with concern. The last time I saw her, she was mostly naked and I was cupping her perfect tits after bringing her to orgasm. I start to get hard at the thought, which is a big fucking problem.
She gives the three of us a quick glance and then moves to her dad. She goes on tiptoes and kisses his cheek. That helps my dick go down, even though she looks damned hot in a snug pair of jeans and a sleeveless blouse with little ruffles at the shoulders. Her hair’s back in a braid and not a lick of makeup on her pretty face. Concern mars her smooth brow…
And she went to her dad and not me.
I scratch my jaw where I longed for her lips to brush.
Two men stand here who, if they knew, would be really unhappy that I have plans for Carly—plans that involve her naked and beneath me. Her dad hates the Bridgers—including me because of my damned last name. I haven’t even said a word and I’m the enemy. It’s not going to get any better either.
“What’s going on?” Carly asks.
“Just having a little chat with the Bridger boys, sweetheart.”
She looks at each of us but settles her gaze on me. “About what?”
“Nothing a little chat with some beavers won’t solve.” Chance’s voice is tempered. For her.
His look is kind and gentle when he turns it Carly’s way. Obviously, he still doesn’t want to upset the woman, even if her dad is being a dick. Perhaps especially because of that.
“Beavers?” Carly cocks her head, frowning. “You’re not expected to deal with them on our… I mean, their land, are you? They can be mean—the beavers, not the Bridgers—and since they own—”
“What the—?” Chance cuts himself off. “What do you mean, Carly? They own what?”
“Your dad bought our land and we’re renting it back,” she replies. “Or rather, the city is renting the house for us.”
Chance frowns. “Jonathan bought your property? When the he— heck did this happen?”
Vance huffs. “Like you didn’t know.”
“Are you crazy?” Chance shakes his head. “You think my old man let me in on any of his dealings? Or that he didn’t leave us in a bind when he up and died?”
“Right,” Vance says.
Chance holds his hands up. “Whatever, Mayor. Think what you want. I don’t give a shit. I’m not airing the Bridger dirty laundry with you.”
I don’t blame Chance for shutting down. The mayor isn’t receptive to anything he has to say and at least Chance will walk away with his pride.
“A big-ass bind,” Miles offers.
“I don’t give a rat’s ass what kind of bind he left you in,” Mayor Vance says. “I’ve been researching your father since I was elected and he skirted the law for the last couple decades. What he did with our land is only one shady deal.”
“That’s our father, not us,” I say.
I feel oddly protective of my brother. Why? I have no idea. He’s a grumpy asshole that put Miles and me on a chain gang work program. But what I know of Chance, he’s got honor that our dad never had.
“I’d say throw the guy in jail,” Miles says, “but oh yeah, he’s dead. Talk about a bind.”
“Chance,” Carly says, “just sell my father his land back. Or pay him what it’s worth. You’ve got the money.”
As if it’s that simple. Which it is when billions of dollars can solve lots of problems. Including this one. Except we can’t get the money.
