Page 23 of Another Man’s Treasure

This male might as well be signing his death warrant.

She flashes him a simpering smile. “Your land survey’s not a little wrong, Mister Ashbourne; it’s entirely wrong. Sixty-two missing acres to the west, seventy-eight to the north, fifteen to the south and one hundred sixty-five to the east. That’s—well, shit—a lot of missing acreage you seem to want Wilder to pay for.”

He scoffs, dark brows lifting as she sips the drink with a soft smile.

“We need a third-party surveyor,” she says simply. “I’m sure one can be found in town, or we can bring someone from another haven if you prefer, but a surveyor should be able to clear up ninety-nine percent of those issues. Some of it could just be the changing landscape between three hundred years ago and now, but I guess we’ll see.”

Saint looks between us, brows furrowed, mouth slightly open like words are on the tip of his tongue, but he just can’t find them. To my right, Oz is quiet, examining the menu as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.

After a quiet, tense moment, Saint looks at me. “Happy for us to use a local surveyor. I’ll look for some⁠—”

“There’s a list of local folks on the back of that sheet,” Willa quips. “I don’t care who we use; pick one you like.”

Saint narrows his eyes at her, then faces me again. “It’s a huge parcel. Any surveyor worth their salt will want to ride the land. I’ll insist on going with, of course.”

“As will Wild,” Willa says. “Which suits us just fine. We grew up on a ranch.”

“Pack hand warmers,” I recommend with a smile. “That parcel’s big enough, it’ll take two full days, by my estimate.”

Saint smirks at Oz. “Will you be riding with us, Ozifer?”

Oh gods. Oz on a horse? That’s hard to imagine.

But my fake mate chuckles and snuggles against me, wrapping his right arm around my core. And just like that, the public displays of affection begin. “If Wilder wants me to, then I will, of course.”

I wonder if Saint’s aware of the way his eyes narrow further at Oz’s words. I’d bet a million dollars he’s feeling a complicated set of emotions seeing Oz happily ensconced against another male’s big chest. Something about that feels like payback, given the way Oz spoke about him earlier.

Turning on the bench, I drag my knuckles along Oz’s sharp jawline. “I want you to come,” I grumble. “I can promise you a good time, if you can get a few days off from work?”

Oz’s dark lashes flutter as he stares up at me like we’re sharing a secret.

“I’d love to,” he whispers, and he nails it. If I didn’t know he was faking, I’d totally believe his genuine enthusiasm. He looks truly excited to go riding for two days. I wonder if he realizes that means camping too…

That’s a conversation for later.

We definitely didn’t cover his sleeping preferences when Willa arrived, aside from him being fine when she bogarted half the bed.

“That’s settled then,” I say softly, returning my arm to the back of the velvet bench seat. I stare at him a few moments longer, hoping I look as in love as I need to be. Oz’s amethyst eyes are nearly depthless, tiny lilac and black specks flashing out from the center.

Beautiful.

The rest of dinner goes by without incident. Saint makes small talk, and Willa asks him some fairly innocuous questions. I can’t wait to get her download on him after dinner.

As soon as I stop staring at Oz.

Oz

The following afternoon at the Buxom Bodice, Bluebell cocks her head to the side as she eyes the two shirts she’s holding against my chest. “Red isn’t your color. The pale blue brings out your skin, though.” She shakes her head. “I literally cannot believe this whole situationship you’re in right now.”

I just downloaded the Wilder deal to the girls, even though I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone. It would have been impossible not to fill them in after they saw us yesterday.

I laugh, and Ginger groans from her usual spot at my feet. “I’m not trying to attract the male, Bluebell; I’m just trying to keep warm because I assume we’ll be camping. He’s paying me to look the part, ya know?”

She looks at Lemon, who grins at me over the top of a magazine about western clothing.

Lemon’s smile gets bigger. “Oz, you spilled the beans about this situation you’ve found yourself in, and I love it for you. But let’s not pretend you don’t find Wilder attractive because we all find him attractive. Right, Bloob?” She waves at the checkout station. “Girl, order me some of those chaps in a bright purple, if you would.”

Bluebell’s dark brows lift. “You gonna start riding?”