Gold Fire (7 page)

It would have been a good place to draw the line, letting him know that their relationship was strictly business and was going to stay that way. Maybe it was a test, designed to learn her boundaries.

She unfastened the clip and shook out her hair.

•  •  •

Jase frowned at Zoe, then dodged a waitress who ducked past him in the hallway that led to the kitchen and restrooms. He’d been frozen there ever since he spotted Zoe sliding her delectable ass onto one of the saloon chairs.

She looked different without her official blazer. More approachable. Her date must have thought so, too, leaning in close when he talked to her. Jase didn’t know what the guy had said that made her let her hair down, but he instantly resented him for it. The man was trespassing on his fantasy—he’d had the thought first, when she’d sashayed into the Rusty Wire in her prim business suit and with her take-charge attitude. He hadn’t put words to the feeling then, but he did now;
he
should have been the one she unclipped her hair for. He narrowed his eyes as she shook her head, sending long reddish-blond waves cascading over her shoulders like some sexy-librarian wet dream come to life, then smiled at her pretty-boy date. Who in the hell was this guy?

He kept his eyes on them as he wove his way around the dance floor, pausing to talk to friends as he made his way to their table. Zoe was laughing at something her date had said as he got there, head thrown back in apparent delight. Jase rested a hand
on the back of her chair, making her jump as her head brushed against his arm. She lifted startled brown eyes to his.

“Jase!”

Her cheeks had a pretty pink flush. “Hello, Zoe. Nice to see you enjoying the humble atmosphere of the Rusty Wire. I didn’t think it was your style.”

“It’s not. I mean, I wasn’t . . .”

“And you brought a date.”

“He’s not . . .” She stopped in mid-denial, looking uncertain. “Jase Garrett, meet Matt Flemming, the president of Alpine Resorts, Inc.”

Ah, the enemy. And possibly Zoe’s date—the enemy twofold. He showed his teeth and stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you. I didn’t know there was more than one resort.”

“There isn’t. Yet.” Matt smiled easily and took Jase’s hand, a firm clasp, radiating sincerity. “Nice place you have here.”

Sure, that’s why he wanted to tear it down. He bet the guy was one hell of a bullshitter. “Glad you like it. Come back anytime, we’re not going anywhere.”

Matt chuckled, a rich laugh filled with camaraderie that made Jase feel like he was buying a used car. “A direct man—I admire that. I think I’ll enjoy negotiating with you, Jase.”

“Hate to disappoint you, Matt, but you won’t get the chance.”

“Don’t be so sure. I can make you a very tempting offer, maybe add a few perks you haven’t even thought to ask for. We’ve given this a lot of thought, and want to make it beneficial for both sides.”

“We, meaning you and your mother?”

“It was an expression. She’s the owner, but I run the business. I’m afraid my mother never took an interest in Buck’s holdings.”

“She was interested enough to check out my fifty acres earlier today.”

The news didn’t seem to have an impact. “We talked about it, of course. She probably wanted to see what we’ll be buying.”

He had the same problem as his mother—the confidence that he could get whatever he wanted. “Wanting isn’t the same as having. The land isn’t for sale.”

He didn’t look worried about it. Flashing whiter-than-white teeth, Matt said, “We’ll see. It’s early yet, and it’s been my experience that people sometimes change their minds.”

Jase gave him a tight smile. He figured his first impression was a fair one—the man was a prick. Every instinct said things were going to get messy. He wanted to think better of Zoe, but working for a man like Matt Flemming, and possibly dating him, might say a lot about her willingness to go along with some underhanded tactics, like bashing in car windows and headlights. Matt didn’t seem like the type to flinch at that, or more. Maybe that stunt was why she seemed a little nervous right now.

He looked down at her. She wouldn’t meet his eyes, and had scooted forward so she wouldn’t accidentally touch his hand where it rested on her chair. It was obvious he made her uncomfortable.

Guilt would do that. He couldn’t explain why he felt disappointed in her. If she was helping Matt Flemming, she wasn’t worth his attention.

“You kids have a good time,” he told them, his heartiness as fake as Matt Flemming’s geniality. He
left with a last lingering look at Zoe and the tumble of hair she’d finger-combed into a semblance of neatness. It looked like she’d just gotten out of bed. No wonder she kept it in such a severe style at work—when he looked at that untamed fall of hair framing doe eyes and a softly curved mouth, work was the furthest thing from his mind.

He was lost in the image as he entered the back room and nearly walked right past his best friend.

“Hey, Jase. What’s the problem?”

Brandon Myers gripped an upright pool cue as he gave Jase a curious look. Jase shook his head. “Nothing, just preoccupied.” He looked at the young man with Brandon who was taking his shot at the balls, figuring him for a college student on summer break. Probably too green to be playing Brandon. “You taking advantage of this boy? Don’t let him hustle you, kid, he’s not as bad as he claims.”

“Neither am I.” The kid made an easy shot, sinking the ball.

“Don’t ruin my fun,” Brandon said. “Who’s that chick you were talking to?”

“What chick?” He said it just to give himself a couple of seconds to focus as the seductive image of Zoe slammed back in place.

“The hot redhead. She looks familiar.”

“Just someone who works up at the Alpine Sky. Name’s Zoe Larkin.”

Brandon’s eyebrow went up and he glanced in Zoe’s direction. “That’s why she looks familiar. I went to school with her older sister, Maggie.”

“Shit,” the kid muttered, stepping back with a sour expression. “Your turn.”

Brandon stepped to the table and looked over the scattered balls. Singling one out, he sighted along his cue stick. “You ever heard about the Larkin sisters, Jase?” He smacked the cue ball and watched it ricochet before clipping the four and knocking it in.

“Yeah.” Jase looked back at Zoe just as Matt leaned close and made Zoe laugh. His stomach tied itself in a tight knot. He turned to see Brandon studying him. “What?”

“Nothing.” He lined up his shot and gave the cue ball a hard tap. It smacked two other balls, sinking them both. The kid lost his confident look as Brandon prowled the table, considering the layout as he talked. “You got time to do some trout fishing tomorrow?”

“Sure.” Forgetting about the saloon for a few hours sounded fine.

“Good.” He leaned over the table, then gave Jase a hard look. “’Cause you and me gotta have us a talk.”

•  •  •

Matt’s gaze kept drifting back to Jase where he stood in the back room. “He doesn’t talk much.”

He didn’t have to—he got his point across. “Are you going to make him a new offer?” Zoe asked. If so, she was dying to know what he thought would tempt Jase.

“Not tonight. Tonight we’re just getting the feel of the place, trying to figure out what’s so special about the Rusty Wire that Garrett doesn’t want to sell.” His gaze slid to the dancers as the music changed from a rollicking, shout-along country tune to a much slower pop ballad. “Come on, let’s try out the dance floor while we’re waiting for our food.”

Before she could answer, he jumped up and took her hand, leading the way to a clear spot on the floor.
She stepped hesitantly into position, left hand on his shoulder and right one waiting to clasp his. He took the hand she offered, sliding his other arm around her back and pulling her close. Her left arm folded awkwardly between them, and she moved it to the only comfortable position, draping it around his neck.

Her boss was coming on to her. Zoe couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t and couldn’t decide how she felt about it. By any objective standards, she shouldn’t be slow dancing with Matt Flemming, but it was hard to be objective about a man who looked good enough to lick, and who looked at her like she was the most fascinating person he’d ever met. Those rapt gazes were more than flattering. If she had placed an order for the perfect man—sophisticated, ambitious, smart, and handsome—the universe would have stuck a bow on Matt Flemming and left him on her doorstep. Minus the bow, that was practically what had happened.

Still, what must he think of her, a junior executive who falls into his arms at the first opportunity? She worked hard to be taken seriously, to be seen as a professional. Letting down her hair and slow dancing with her boss wasn’t part of that picture. Suddenly uncomfortable, she stiffened and pulled back.

“I’m sorry.” Matt’s words made her look up. He smiled apologetically and shook his head. “I’m making you uncomfortable.” She started to deny it, a stupid, knee-jerk reaction to placate her boss, but he didn’t let her. “Yes, I am.” He stopped dancing and held her at arm’s length. “I’ve put you in an awkward position and we barely know each other. It’s wrong. Call me overeager to get to know my staff.” He laughed and shook his head.

She smiled back, relieved when she caught sight of their waitress heading their way. “That’s our order. Thanks goodness, I’m so hungry!”

“So am I.” His eyes were boring into hers again, leaving Zoe with little doubt as to what he meant.

She had the presence of mind not to say anything. But there was no question in her mind about her willingness to see what exactly the picture-perfect man would want with her.

•  •  •

The pizza was gooey with cheese over globs of tasty sauce, and loaded with pepperoni. Zoe was in love. Matt was nearly forgotten through her first two pieces. By the third piece she’d slowed down enough to notice that Matt’s attention kept drifting to the bar.

She turned her head to see what was so interesting. Several people sat on the stools that had obviously been a recent addition to the original bar. At the far end Jase stood talking to the woman Zoe had determined was Jennifer, the wife of his dead friend. Jennifer said nothing, just wiped down some beer spigots as she listened, nodding occasionally.

She turned back to Matt, and found him still watching. “Her name’s Jennifer. She’s known Jase a long time, probably longer than most people here.”

He flashed a smile that made her feel as if she’d just received an A from her favorite teacher. “You read my mind.” His gaze followed Jase as he walked away from the bar. “I think I’ll go get another beer. You want one?”

“No thanks.”

She used the time to go to the restroom and run a comb through her hair. When she returned to the table,
Matt was still at the bar, leaning on his arms as he coaxed a few smiles from Jennifer.

If anyone could break through her reserve, it would be Matt. People warmed to him fast. Zoe had to admit it raised a few caution flags. She wasn’t immune to the effect, although he’d counteracted it nicely. He’d been straightforward about his feelings, at the same time acknowledging the touchy situation it put them in. Direct and honest—what more could she expect?

The chair across from her scraped as someone sat down, and she jerked her attention away from the bar.

“Your boyfriend likes to flirt,” Jase said. He leaned forward across the small table, his face less than two feet from hers. She noted the soft curve of his upper lip, the line of his nose, the straight brows. If she touched his cheek, she knew, his whiskers would feel like the fine side of an emery board, barely scratchy . . .

She gave herself a mental shake and managed a disinterested look. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Your date, then.”

“My boss.” She knocked their relationship back a step without thinking. It didn’t feel right to let Jase know she was interested in her boss.

“Friendly management style he has there.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Don’t you have anything better to do than watch us?”

“I always keep an eye on suspicious customers.”

“Then you’re wasting your time, because we’re about as unsuspicious as you can get. We’re here during business hours, not sneaking around behind your back, bashing in headlights. The Alpine Sky is a class act, and so are the Flemmings.”

He studied her. “You really believe that?”

Beneath his scowl, his blue eyes were piercing, searching hers for the answer. It took her by surprise—he was serious. He obviously saw something in Matt that she didn’t see. Or he imagined it; he was good at that, judging by how quickly he’d accused her of helping whoever had taken a few swings at his truck.

“I’ve worked for the Flemmings for years,” she told him, exaggerating the relationship to include the whole family. “They’ve never been anything but generous and fair.” Except for Buck’s demeaning view of women, but that was in the past.

As she spoke, he glanced toward the bar and stood up. She knew without looking that Matt was on his way back.

Jase passed beside her as he left, leaning close to her ear. He let several strands of red hair slide through his fingers. “I like it better down,” he said, his voice a low rumble that raised goose bumps along her arm.

She shivered and rubbed them away self-consciously. It didn’t help. She could still feel the whisper of his breath tingling against her scalp, and the tug of his fingers on her hair. Goose bumps popped out all over again.

Whatever it was he did to her, she was going to have to get over it. Fast.

•  •  •

Fishing had been a terrific idea. In spite of whatever motive Brandon had for getting him out here, forgetting the saloon for a few hours felt good.

Jase cast his lure, the zing of the line breaking the clear air over Killdeer Creek with a high-pitched whine. As soon as the feathery lure hit the surface he began reeling it in again, almost hoping a fish didn’t
take it. The constant repetition of casting and reeling in had become soothing in its monotony.

“We should have come earlier,” Brandon called out as he stepped from around a boulder fifty feet downstream. He splashed his way toward Jase through the knee-deep water, his steps slow in the clumsy hip waders and strong current.