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Gina’s slim brows furrowed, her deep brown hair swinging forward as she straightened on the sofa. “You used to like it when I sat around like that.”
“That was before your true colors emerged. I’d hoped to avoid changing the locks, but you leave me no choice. I thought you were coming by in the morning.”
“I changed my mind.”
He pivoted and strode to the corner bar to pour two fingers of whiskey. Tossing back the fortifying liquor, he relished the burn going down his throat before facing her again. Leaning against the bar, he resumed his arms-folded stance. “Save your breath, Gina. Whatever you want this time the answer is no, the same as every other time.”
“Like I told you,” she said, getting to her feet and coming toward him, “you’ll like this. We stay together, I’ll stick to the allowance you give me but we’ll live separate lives. You do your thing and I’ll do mine, just as if we’re divorced, only you don’t have to part with a settlement payment and I can continue living the lifestyle you introduced me to and I don’t want to give up.”
Brett shouldn’t be surprised at such an outrageous suggestion, but he was. Did she know nothing about him after five years of marriage?
“I’d rather tackle a grizzly. The only thing I want is for you to sign the papers. It’s not as if your settlement will leave you destitute.”
Gina’s amicable demeanor disappeared, replaced with the sneering twist to her mouth he was used to seeing. She jabbed a pointed red nail into his chest, the bright color reminding him of Allie’s decorated nails. For some unexplainable reason, the array of garish colors suited Allie’s overall appearance where Gina’s long, scarlet tips appeared gaudy.
Or maybe he was just tired and exhausted with Gina’s stubbornness.
“It won’t afford me the lifestyle I grew accustomed to married to you. You can spare a lot more.”
He shackled her wrist and moved her arm aside, his gaze boring into hers. “We’ve rehashed this to death in the past year, two judges have ruled you have no grounds to fight me, and I’m not taking from the company, ranch, or my brothers to give you a lavish lifestyle. If you can’t, or won’t make do with that generous stipend, you can always go back to work. Now, get out.”
She spun on her high heels, snatched her purse off the sofa, and stomped toward the entry, tossing over her shoulder, “Think long and hard before you dump me for some bimbo, Brett.”
Before he could ask what she meant by that cryptic remark, she slammed out of the house, leaving him to again rue the day he fell into bed with her after they’d met at a city council function she had arranged through her event planning business. Looking back, he still couldn’t believe he’d let himself get taken in by her wiles and lies.
Shutting off lights on his way to his bedroom, he made a mental note to replace the locks tomorrow before he did anything else.
Brett entered the stables at midmorning, taking a deep, appreciative breath of horse, hay, and manure, welcoming the horses soft neighing and the clip-clop of their shod hooves. He harbored more fond memories of growing up with those odors stinging his nostrils and the sounds of a working ranch as he and his brothers ran wild than he did of times spent with the man who had fathered him. To give Casey credit, when he did make the effort to spend quality time with them, he made sure they had his undivided attention. He and his brothers learned to ride from Jed, the ranch manager as early as they could remember, but Casey had kept track of their progress. Jed, along with the other hired hands, had been responsible for supervising their chores, keeping them out of trouble, and for ensuring they stayed safe during the long summer days, but they’d spent the nights with their father, staying up late watching movies or playing cards. It had never failed to be a battle of wills when they returned to their mother’s house in time for school to start, a battle she inevitably always won.
Striding down the brick aisle bisecting the rows of stalls, he paused to run his hand down the sleek necks of the few horses still stabled for various reasons, their beautiful heads nudging him in affection. He, Reed, and Slade each owned a horse for working the ranch and pleasure riding, and then there were the numerous mounts for the hired hands that filled the stable during the harshest weather. Otherwise, when not working, the equines preferred grazing the pasture closest to the structures.
Low-voiced cursing and angry grumbling filtered in from the attached corral out back as he neared the far end of the stables. “What the hell happened out here?” Brett demanded when he saw the padlock strewn with hay, expensive riding gear floating in the water troughs, and the neat, white fence looking like someone had taken a hammer to it.
“Fuck if I know,” Slade snarled, pulling a brand new saddle from the water trough. He hoisted it over the damaged fence before turning back to glare at Brett. “That wall can stand up without your help. Get your ass out here and get to work.”
“Who’d you piss off this time, Slade?” Brett grabbed a rake and started pulling hay into piles. Keith, one of four college students they’d recently employed, was also lending a helping hand. “Well?” he prodded when all he got was a grunt in reply. His youngest brother wasn’t much for idle chitchat on a good day, and this definitely wasn’t a good day.
Slade sent him an icy slate-eyed frown that only made Brett grin. “Why do you assume this mess is because I pissed someone off?”
“Because you’re so good at it?”
“Bite me.” Slade huffed and turned his back on Brett.
“Nah, you’re not my type or my gender,” Brett drawled.
“He prefers pretty blue-eyed imps,” Reed said, stepping outside. “Who’d you piss off this time, bro?” One black brow winged up as he released a low whistle with his slow perusal of the damage, his comment drawing a chuckle from Brett and a snicker from Keith.
Slade turned around, a rare smile splitting his sun-weathered face. Ignoring Reed’s taunt, he turned to Brett. “I heard you had an unexpected visitor last night.”
Leave it to his idiot brothers to bring up the one topic sure to put him in a sour mood. Reed turned a knowing smirk toward Brett, relaxed despite his scowl as he pitched in to help. “Jordon found it amusing and shared.”
“It was no big deal. Someone young and daring is all. I sent her away, and that was that.” At least, he hoped Allie had gotten the message and didn’t try that stunt again. She wasn’t aware he would never attempt to discipline her without consent or giving her a safeword. She’d been wary of his threat but far from cowed.
Reed reached into the trough and pulled out a drenched saddle blanket, telling Slade, “She was cute and only interested in big brother.”
“Then she has a screw loose,” Slade returned, deadpan except for the sparkle in his gray eyes.
“My turn to say bite me. Let’s get this cleaned up.” Brett eyed the destruction with concern, his gut churning in anger at the deliberate vandalism.
