“Mother and Father for me, but yes, I agree. It’s tiresome.”
Killian leaned back against the vehicle, crossing his arms as they listened to Silas snarl at someone in Italian.
“His accent is atrocious,” Lana shook her head. “You should be on that project, not Silas.”
“I’m not reliable enough.” When Lana open her mouth to defend him, Killian gave a shake of his head
“No, they’re right. I only do what I have to to keep my parents from mortification or the group from firing me. We all know I’m the rotten apple of this family. I’m a good face at functions or a fun night out on the town.”
“You’re not the rotten apple, dearest. You’re slightly mealy at worst.” Hugging him around the waist, Lana shook her head. “You’re cutting yourself short, Killian.”
“Maybe I should learn to play polo…”
Lana leaned into him companionably. “Please don’t. I have enough trouble telling you and polo Killian apart. Can you imagine if you both were the same boring suck-up?”
There. She managed to pull a real grin from him, the kind that reminded her of when they were kids. The real smiles from her favorite cousin—not that she’d ever tell him he was her favorite—were few and far between. Killian was an adrenaline junkie, and he ran with a crowd that indulged him in his constant need to push the line between excitement and stupidity. But Lana had never gotten the feeling that Killian was ever truly happy.
“But seriously, how’s Zoey? I’ve been thinking about her.”
He also had the worst crush on Zoey, not that Lana had ever encouraged him. She also couldn’t ask him to leave Zoey alone. That would have painted a big heart-shaped target on Zoey’s forehead. Killian loved a challenge.
“Zoey is fine. She’ll be very happy to see you.” Lana frowned at Silas’s back. “I’ll bring her around when he’s not here.”
Killian sighed. “He’s been glued to the phone since we took off. I think it makes him feel important.”
“He’s important enough to cause me problems,” Lana said under her breath as Silas ended his call.
Silas turned to them. “The reception here is terrible. Why in the world are you so fixated on this place?” He looked at the stunning vistas around the resort as if they were nothing, visibly unimpressed.
“Moose Springs has a lot to offer,” Lana said. “When my condos are done, investors will have the opportunity to experience a small-town lifestyle with all the comforts and amenities of the world-class resort connected to the estate.”
“A resort widely overstretching its resources versus income. How can a place this popular fail to turn a profit?”
Lana frowned at the resort. “Bad management, mostly. The Shaws are great people, but they’re ready to retire. They’ve left too much up to Jackson, who isn’t as business savvy as his parents. Each year, the town votes to increase the taxes the resort has to pay to stay in business.”
“Don’t they realize they’re cannibalizing themselves?” Killian asked. “The town’s income is based on tourism.”
“The locals are actively trying to drive out the resort and the people who visit. So far, they’ve been unsuccessful, but small things are undercutting the profit margins of the place. Unfortunately, they’re spearheaded by a man who is a little too smart for his own good. Graham Barnett’s the one who keeps pushing the city council to increase the taxes.”
Killian’s handsome face soured. “I can’t stand that guy. I have no idea what Zoey sees in him.”
“Probably all the muscles,” Lana said. “You don’t like him because he’s the only one who’s ever beaten you in a tussle.”
“He took me by surprise. I’d like to see anyone fight well after getting sucker punched.”
“If you two are done gossiping, we have properties to visit.” Silas clicked through a series of emails on his phone, finding a document and opening it. “Travis sent me the list of our acquired holdings. I’d like to see them all.”
Since Lana was trying stupidly hard to fit in with this town, the absolute worst idea in the world was to take Silas to the bulk of the commercial buildings in Moose Springs and let him unleash his power trip on the unsuspecting locals. They would hate him and hate her even more for subjecting them to him.
“I don’t think—” she started to say.
“Never stopped you before, Cousin.” Silas smirked at her, then climbed into the passenger seat of her SUV without invitation.
She almost took him to the Tourist Trap then and there. If anyone deserved Graham’s sense of humor, it was Silas. However, that would mean dragging Killian along too, and Killian might not have wanted to be in Moose Springs in this capacity…but he would stay until the job was done.
Maybe she would be lucky and everyone would be closed. It was a Harold sighting day after all.
Sighing, Lana put her car in reverse, making a three-point turn in the snow.
“Okay, the first property we should go to is the police station. The building is small, and they rent it from us at a discounted rate—”
* * *
If anyone asked, Rick had a favorite car in town.
Some of his friends didn’t love that particular car, but Rick always felt his heartbeat start to pick up whenever the sky-blue compact SUV drove past.
Up until that summer, Lana’s choice of vehicle had changed depending on if she was going to be in town for a few days or a few months. A car, a truck, a town car from the resort. One summer, she even went everywhere on a sleek black motorcycle, although she made everyone a little nervous when she took her corners too fast.
But the day they’d learned she’d invested in the town, Lana had bought a modest-sized, sky-blue Mercedes SUV. Now, every time he saw sky blue, Rick thought of brown eyes that danced. Of slender fingers and a breezy laugh.
The last couple of days had been confusing but exhilarating. Rick’s hopes weren’t up—he knew better than that. It was just…well…it was nice getting to talk to her. It was why he’d hurried to the resort that morning when Hannah had called. She was why he hadn’t minded the extra task.
Thinking about Lana caused Rick’s heart to do a skipping thing, making the simple act of breathing a little harder than it should be. Like a band squeezing across his chest and his stomach at the same time.
When the Mercedes SUV pulled up in front of his business instead of continuing down the street, Rick’s heart progressed to hammering in his chest. She could be headed to another of the unmarked shops on the row, but Rick hoped not.
It was stupid how his palms began to sweat when he heard her voice outside the door.
He hadn’t felt this way about someone since high school. Grown men didn’t have crushes. They had relationships. Marriages. Divorces. Still, when Lana stepped through the door, her eyes finding his, it was useless to pretend this was anything but a crush.
Lana came inside, shaking a light brushing of snow from her long, thick, cream wool overcoat. He rarely paid attention to clothes, but she had looked stunning that morning at the resort. There was something about the dark slacks, rose-gold sweater, and expensive-looking boots she wore that made him think she was in work clothes. Lana always looked great, but there was a level of perfectionism in her outfit that reminded him of a movie or maybe a photo in a magazine.
And of course, Jake was glued to her side. It was hard not to be a little jealous of the border collie.
Rick had been playing a game, feeling more cheerful than usual that morning. Harold, the Alaskan Food Safety and Sanitation inspector, had yet to be by, and the town’s gossip forum said he was at the resort and would be there for a while. Rick had polished everything in the kitchen until it gleamed, with extra time to spare. He personally detested Harold—the pompous ass had made his ex cry more than once—and he counted it as a personal victory when Harold couldn’t find anything wrong
to mark on his inspections.
After setting his cue down across the table, he met Lana halfway in between.
“Hello, Rick,” Lana greeted him warmly, placing her hand on his arm and going up on her toes to kiss his cheek.
Saying something intelligent would probably help, but instead, all he could do was try not to lean into the contact or look like a complete idiot in front of the other—equally well-dressed—men with her.
“Want me to take your coat?”
Sweaty palms, blue cue chalk, and cream coats that probably cost more than his car were a bad match. But still, he had to ask.
“Thank you,” Lana shrugged out of her coat. Dropping her voice, she added softly, “And I’m so sorry.”
“Why?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.” Raising her voice to normal levels, Lana turned to introduce the men who had followed her inside. “Rick, these are my cousins. You may remember Killian Montgomery, and this is Silas Thomas.”
He had to fight to pull his eyes from Lana toward her companions.
“Silas Ward Thomas the third,” Silas cut in, sticking out his hand for a shake, a perfunctory gesture if Rick had ever seen one.
“The third,” Killian whispered jokingly.
“Gentlemen, this is Rick Harding, one of our tenants and a dear friend.”
Gah. The f-word again.
Rick dutifully shook hands with Killian and Silas, wondering what exactly about them was making his back stiffen. Not them…him. Silas. The third of his particular kind. Having been introduced, Silas turned away immediately, taking in the pool hall as if Rick had ceased to exist. “Lana, this is ridiculous. Why are we investing in small buildings like this?”
Lana frowned at Silas’s back while Killian leaned against the closest pool table.
“Perhaps you can keep your commentary to yourself until after we’ve finished touring all the properties,” she said firmly. “As for the sizes of the properties, I can appreciate a large corporate building as much as the next girl. But you seem to errantly believe quality is directly related to quantity.”
“Size isn’t everything?” Killian joked.
“On the contrary.” Lana gazed around the pool hall as if proud. “If you count all our modest, individual holdings, they’re worth more than your skyscrapers. Size is definitely everything.”
“Meaning hers is bigger than his,” Killian said out of the side of his mouth to Rick.
“Diversified portfolios, Silas. That’s what I’m bringing to the table.”
Silas snorted. “You’re also bringing cheap construction and low-to-no profit margins. The door sticks. He’s also behind on rent.”
This time, Rick’s heart did something much different. It dropped into his stomach, where acid from too many years of stress had gathered, waiting for moments like these. Where it became clear that his dream of his pool hall staying afloat without tourist money was destined to fail. If he opened the doors to strangers, he’d never have a moment of peace. But if Silas had his way, the peace was already gone.
“It’s been taken care of.” Lana’s voice was honey sweet, but her eyes flashed.
The look Silas gave Rick made his jaw tighten reflexively.
“Lana, what’s going on?” he asked, keeping his hands safely at his sides and choosing to not get arrested for the day.
She started to answer, but Silas interrupted as if Rick weren’t even there.
“Lana, what the hell you were thinking? If you’d bought the resort, then yes, maybe I would understand the impulse buy. But this place? All these places?” Silas shook his head in disgust. “If we put them on the market today, we’d barely break even.”
“Silas, again, all things that can and should be discussed in a meeting after this. I’ve reserved a conference room—”
Once more, he cut her off, either unaware of her growing anger or ignoring it. Rick didn’t know how Silas could be this obtuse. Lana’s hands were visibly shaking, and her teeth were audibly grinding.
“Do you think I came here without doing some digging? There are half a dozen places on this list behind on rent. It’s like this whole town is your little pet project. I’m recommending to the board you be taken off this project and everything sold. We can get the collections department to start recouping the tenants’ back rent.”
Before Rick could fully process what Silas was threatening him with, Lana slapped Silas over the head with her purse.
This wasn’t a light slap. No, Lana smacked her cousin so hard the resulting thump made Rick wince.
He must’ve had a hard head, because Silas stood there shocked. “What was that for?” he demanded.
Lana stalked into his personal bubble, jabbing a manicured finger toward Silas’s throat.
“That man right there is good and hardworking, and if I—as the principal on this account—decide to give him extra time on his rent, then he gets it. That was my decision, Silas. Mine. Not the group’s, not Killian’s, and certainly not yours.”
“What did I do?” Killian held up his hands innocently. “I like the place.”
Which would have been much more reassuring if the possibility of losing his pool hall wasn’t still lingering in the air.
Lana stalked forward, her fingernail digging farther into Silas’s Adam’s apple, causing him to take an involuntary step back.
“Now here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to apologize to Rick for this and for every snotty look and snarky comment you’ve made since coming into town. Because trust me, these people think even less of you than you think of my commercial properties.”
“The group’s properties,” Silas started to argue, but another finger jab, this one at an eyeball, made him duck.
“My commercial properties,” Lana all but growled at him. “And if they’d been managed properly from the onset, then good, hardworking people like Rick wouldn’t have to deal with peeled paint or wiggling handrails or goodness forbid, a sticking door.”
“Now, wait a second, Lana. Aunt Jessica sent me, and I have a job to do—”
“Silas, think very carefully here. I indulge you plenty, but who do you think will be in charge of whether you keep that job in the near future?”
“Excuse me?” Silas sounded shocked, his face going pale before reddening with anger.
“I normally wouldn’t rub that in your face and certainly not in polite company. But I don’t give a rat’s ass about what upsets you, not when you’re acting like a complete cad. Consider me unimpressed, Cousin.”
Killian whistled under his breath. “And that’s why we don’t piss off Lana. Brought it on yourself, buddy.”
At which point Silas called Lana something not very pleasant, and all those emotions Rick was feeling toward this stranger solidified into a very strong need to throw the pompous jerk out of his pool hall.
Jake began to growl, sensing the rising tension in the air. Stepping up next to Lana, Rick folded his arms, frowning at Silas.
“I know who you are,” Rick said quietly. “And I know who I’m not. But you’ll watch your tongue around the lady, or you and I are going to have a conversation you’re not going to like.”
That was the nice version of what Rick wanted to really say to the little shit giving Lana so much hell.
“Did you just threaten me?” Silas’s voice came out in an affronted squeak.
“No, Silas. You were simply warned to be a little more polite.” She glanced at Rick. “I’ve seen Rick threaten someone. It’s very impressive.”
Rick felt his neck heat up at her compliment, but he kept his eyes on Silas.
“And, Silas? We’re family, but I’m quickly getting tired of the way you treat people, myself included. I’m not above making sure you spend the next forty years flipping burgers on the night shift.”
Silas sputtered, then
turned on his heel, stomping out.
“Can you really do that?” Killian asked, sounding cheerful. “Get him fired? Because I would love to see him flipping burgers on the night shift.”
“It depends. Things get tricky when family is involved. But I can certainly make his life miserable, which I have no problem doing if he insists on dishing out the same to you.”
Lana glanced guiltily at Rick as she picked up Jake, hugging him close.
“I’m sorry,” she told him, sounding beyond embarrassed. “I won’t come back here like this again.”
As she started for the door, Rick realized something. He’d rather have her in his pool hall while he took hell from her cousin than not have her in his day at all. Jumping after her, Rick risked a startled nip from Jake to take her elbow.
“Wait. That guy isn’t you, Lana. You’re always welcome here.”
Maybe he sounded like a complete fool saying so, or at least a little desperate, but to earn a smile like the one spreading across her gorgeous face? Rick was more than happy to be a little desperate for Lana any day.
This time when she went up to her toes to kiss his cheek, her lips lingered.
“How about this. I won’t let him come back here. But if the offers stands, I’ll definitely take you up on it.”
Would the offer stand? Absolutely.
Chapter 6
“Are you sure this is the proper attire?” Lana glanced down at herself. “I’d hate to embarrass myself.”
Dressed from head to toe in her own winter ghillie suit, Zoey gave an emphatic nod, furry strips of white and pale-gray fabric swinging with the motion. “We need to be in camouflage. This moose is a trickster.”
Lana had dropped Jake off with Graham and then met with Zoey out in the woods, off a section of road she wasn’t familiar with.
They’d come prepared. Thermos filled with hot coffee, zero-degree winter gear beneath their ghillie suits, granola bars in their backpacks. Two large flasks of a very spice-heavy eggnog the Lockett patriarch had brought over for Zoey to try and Easton’s livestock tranquilizer gun, complete with moose-sized darts. The rest of Graham’s truck bed was filled to bursting with all the garish holiday inflatables, weathered plastic light-up figurines, and used polyvinyl Christmas trees one could obtain on the sly.
Mistletoe and Mr. Right Page 12