“I could talk to them,” Gina volunteered, though she was an outsider. The Daltons would probably have better luck. But her mind spun with so many ideas she couldn’t help getting caught up in the planning. And food was her bailiwick. “Or the three of us could, with me explaining the concept. You’ve got to have a concept in the hospitality industry.”
“If that doesn’t work we can sic Jace on them,” Charlie said. “There isn’t a thing they wouldn’t do for him.”
“Hey, they stand to make bank on this,” Aubrey added. “It’s a win-win for both of us.”
Gina didn’t see how Laney and Jimmy Ray’s sarsaparilla could lose as long as Aubrey and Charlie got the kind of traffic they were hoping for. Getting people here was the key, which meant they’d need something significant. Something people would travel for.
“I’m calling it a night, ladies.” Aubrey wrapped up the last of the quesadillas, stashed them in the fridge, and grabbed her purse.
Gina supposed it was her cue to leave too, though she was enjoying herself and didn’t relish going back to her hot, empty cabin. The evenings in Dry Creek were cooler than the days. But the temperatures still hovered in the low eighties. Living by the ocean, she’d grown accustomed to cool sea breezes. Here, she had the creek, which didn’t temper the heat but was sure nice to listen to.
“You want a ride?” she asked Aubrey, who unlike her had walked over.
“Nah, the exercise will do me some good.” Aubrey patted her belly.
They walked out together and even though it was closing in on ten o’clock, there was enough moonlight to illuminate the path everyone used for going back and forth between the cabins and the ranch house.
Gina considered leaving her car and joining Aubrey for the short stroll. But suddenly she had somewhere else she wanted to go.
Chapter 11
Sawyer was tweaking his nut graph on theForbespiece when someone rang the doorbell. He glanced at the clock. The girls were probably still doing their thing and Jace needed a place to hang out until he could go home.
“Door’s open,” he yelled down.
The sound of footsteps came up the stairs.
Sawyer didn’t bother to look up from his computer. “Cash kick you out?” His cousin had adopted the hours of a cow cop. Early to bed, early to rise.
“How come you didn’t tell me about the email? The one from Angie?”
He swiveled his barstool around to find Gina in his entryway, not Jace. She had on the same short skirt she’d worn to the barbecue that first week she was here and a stretchy sleeveless top that gave her a boost in the chest department. Not the legendary Gina DeRose rack of cooking show lore, but enough to fill his hands. Instead of the high heels, cowboy boots. That visual alone made his blood rush south of his belt.
“We don’t know that it’s Angie,” he said, trying hard not to ogle her and failing miserably.
“Who else could it be?”
Who else indeed? But it was better to keep his expectations low, that way he wasn’t disappointed. “Don’t know. But the timing seems odd. Why now, after all these years?”
“Because for the first time you have a solid lead. New Mexico. She likely knows you’ve been talking to people from the commune, asking questions.”
Beautiful and smart. But Gina DeRose had enough troubles of her own. He didn’t plan to make his her part-time hobby while she waited for the dust to settle on her own situation.
“Maybe,” was all he said. “Your hen party over?”
“I hate that saying. It’s condescending. What if I called your night out with the guys a cock party?”
He eyed her up and down, not even bothering to be discreet about it.
Cock party?
His cock wanted to party right now.
“Did you come over to use my kitchen or to berate me for being a chauvinist?”
“I came over to find out why you hadn’t told me about the email. We spent all day together and not one word.” She plopped down on the stool next to him. “I tell you all my stuff.”
“That’s so I can help you go home. Back to the bright lights and glitter.” He winked.
