“He was here,” he finishes, eyes locked on Nash like he took a shot of testosterone with all that whiskey. “And now I’m here too.”
“Ah,” Nash says. “So you’re here to prove a point?”
“Nash.” I glare at him. “Don’t.”
He waves his palms like white flags.
“No, please,” Jonathan says. “I’m happy to answer. If bypointyou mean reminding my fiancée that she doesn’t need to be wasting her time here, then yes.”
“Can we not do this?” My shoulders are so tight they might shatter.
“Do what?” Jonathan asks, drunk and innocent. “Act like you didn’t come here with unrealistic expectations of finding gold then got swept up in make-believe?”
“Make-believe?” Nash asks with a laugh. “See, I was starting to think you were make-believe since you weren’t here to begin with.”
“Here I am.” Jonathan raises his hands like a magician just completing a grand trick. “And I think at the end of the day, Rue would prefer a man who shows up to work instead of letting her get arrested.”
“She wouldn’t need to get arrested if you would’ve been paying closer attention to her situation to begin with.”
Jonathan and Nash stare at each other like they’re about to exchange blows in a cage fight.
“You know what?” I slam my glass on the table, glaring at them both. “Shecan make her own decisions on getting arrested. Save the dick-measuring contest for another time.”
Nash stays cool. “I’m happy to put my dick away as soon as he stops acting like one.”
“Cappy baby,” Sunny says, tossing the straw from her daiquiri, gearing up to chug. “We got ourselves front-row seats to the show.”
Jonathan laughs. “Me not coming along on a treasure hunt doesn’t make me a dick.”
This pulls Cap into the mix. “You got something against treasure huntin’?”
“Other than it being a frivolous use of time?” Jonathan takes a cocky sip from his glass. “No.”
“Jonathan,” I whisper, pulling at his arm. “We should go.”
I start to stand; Jonathan shrugs me off. “Nonsense.”
This is a hostage situation.
Cap’s next grunt has the pitch of annoyed. “How’s that?”
“Things are crazy with Iris—things are always crazy with Iris.” Jonathan makes a swirly motion in the air with his hands and sticks out his tongue.
My hackles raise. Only I’m allowed to call that woman crazy.
“But—” He shrugs. “I think we can all agree that looking for lost gold with a man who spent his life looking for it is hardly the most logical approach to solving any problem.” He takes another hefty swig. “Plus, I told Rue before she left that I think she should sell the store.” He smacks the table. “And I lined up a buyer.”
“Youwhat?” It takes effort to whisper and not stab him with my spoon. “I told you no.”
“Ooh-wee!” Sunny sings. “Here we go. Barkeep!” she hollers. “Gonna need a couple drinks for me and the pirate.”
Jonathan’s smile smears across his face. “You said you’d sell after you were done here. And?—”
“We aren’t done,” I argue. “We have more clues.”
Nope.
“You aren’t done,” he repeats with a scoff. “I showed up to you in cuffs, Rue.”
