Page 68 of Hot for the Jerk

We reached our vehicles, and she used her foot to hands-free open her hatch.I helped her load her bags, then unlocked the cab of my truck and stashed my groceries in the back seat before spinning around to face her again.

“Well, this was fun.We should do it again sometime,” I said, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jacket and rocking back on my heels, only to be reminded that my boot and sock were sodden.

“I’d rather we didn’t,” she said, though the fury in her eyes wasn’t there.

“How’s the cactus?”I asked.“In the garbage?Or did you viciously murder it, pulling out one spike at a time, pretending it was hair?”I threw on a big, cheeky smile, and wasn’t disappointed when her glare deepened, along with those cute little lines between her brows.

“I would never hurt or throw away a plant, even one from someone Itolerate.”

That made me grin even wider.“Good to hear.Well,” I glanced skyward when a big fat raindrop landed on my nose, “I should get home and put this soggy boot on the boot dryer.Until we meet again, Elsa.”Then, just to ruffle her pretty feathers a bit more, I shot her a wink, and another smile, before opening up the driver’s side door of my truck and sliding in behind the wheel.

Her hands found her hips as she stood at the rear of her SUV and watched me pull away.Once again, I gave her a super-friendly smile and an enthusiastic wave.And rather than reward me with those little glare creases between her brows, she actually waved back.It was a confused wave.Slow, and stilted.

I smiled the whole drive home, unable to decide if I liked her glare creases more than her confused wave, while also trying to figure out when I could see her again before our next book club meeting a month from now.I wouldn’t be able to go an entire thirty days without seeing those creases, and while strong and prickly, cacti still needed care—even the redheaded kinds.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Raina

Hewasuptosomething.He had to be.

Some way, somehow, Jagger McEvoy devised a plan to get under my skin in order to sabotage the winery’s land acquisition proposal.There was no other explanation for his sudden interest in me.

He wanted me to let down my guard, let him in, and trust him.Then, when I least expected it, he’d stab me in the back with a cactus, and steal our proposal so he could snatch Bonn Remmen’s land right out from under us.

I conveyed as much to my cousins, who all laughed in my face as the four of us sat in Gabrielle’s living room on New Year’s Eve, drinking wine and eating a massive tray of loaded nachos.

Nachos were Gabrielle’s go-to for parties.She always made them, and they were always a huge hit.The kids were off playing video games in the rec room, having filled their bellies with nachos and other appetizers the rest of us moms brought.That left the four of us.

“I think you’re insane,” Naomi said, taking a sip of her merlot.“I don’t see the McEvoys being that conniving.”

“The McEvoys?No,” I agreed.“Jagger McEvoy in particular?Absolutely.”

They all scoffed and shook their heads.Since the day I filled Naomi and Gabrielle in on what “went down” at the B&B, I had also brought Danica up to speed, as it wasn’t fair she was the only one not able to relentlessly tease me.

“Maybe,” Gabrielle said, daintily dipping the corner of her nacho chip into a puddle of salsa, “now, I’m just spitballing here, but maybe Jagger McEvoy is interested in you … for you.Have you considered that?”

“No,” I said bluntly.“There’s too much history.Too much deep-seated animosity.”

“Which makes for delicious chemistry,” Naomi added.“Besides, they’re not the only ones after Bonn Remmen’s land.Sure, their property neighbors Bonn’s, but the distillery is after it.So is the cidery, and several others.The McEvoys aren’t our only competition.”

“But he’s the most ruthless,” I countered, leaning forward and grabbing the tongs from the table to grab more nachos.I made sure to snag a section with extra cheese.

Earlier in the year, an Island Elder named Bonn Remmen passed away.Like all the other Island Elders, Bonn was a pillar of the community.He also acquired his land decades upon decades ago, simply by squatting on it.The island was founded by hippies and draft dodgers, all looking to carve out their own way of living, and not adhere to all the government regulations.And while San Camanez was never a sovereign nation or anything like that, there were some looser laws here when it came to land acquisition.Land had to first be offered to family, it could be passed down from one generation to another with no penalty, taxation, or transfer fees.If the deceased had no family, they could intrust the land to a council and the land could be gifted.Only after all those other options had been exhausted could the land be sold.And only privately.No real estate agents were allowed listings on the island.

Our aunt Dolores wasn’t an OG Island Elder, but she was gifted the land from an Elder who had no heirs.We often speculated whether she and the Elder who passed were lovers, but nobody could ever confirm it.Then she gifted it to us when she passed.Bonn Remmen had no living heirs and entrusted the gifting of the land title to the rest of the Island Elders Council.They decided that all those interested in the land needed to put forth a proposal.Then they narrowed down written proposals to a handful, and we were supposed to present in-person earlier in the month, but that got delayed for various reasons.Now we were waiting for some snowbird Elders to return from Mexico before we could present.

“I don’t understand why they even want or need the land,” Gabrielle said, shaking her head.We all wore matching pajamas—a gift from Gabrielle last Christmas—they were silky, black, and had tiny little green Christmas trees and red presents on them.

“The same could be said for us,” Danica argued.“We have more land than the McEvoys—by several acres.It’s really the distillery that is lacking in land.The McEvoys, the cidery, and all of us live and work on the same property.The distillery doesn’t have that.Their houses are at all four corners of the island, and their warehouse and tasting room are in the middle.They need more land.”

Gabrielle gave Danica a shocked look.“Is this your way of telling us you think we should pull our proposal?”

Danica rolled her eyes.“No.Bonn’s land is primo for grape growing.It gets so much sun, has a perfect slope, and we could expand the special events portion of the business.It doesn’t matter that it’s on the opposite side of the island from us.We’d make it work.”

Having seemed to calm down, Gabrielle took a sip of her wine and nodded.“Good.I agree.”

Naomi and I shared smirks.

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