Page 57 of The Mountain Echoes
Elena punches him lightly on the shoulder.
“You know, considering the kind of money you have,it’s cheap of you to expect me to pay for your supper,” I say drolly.
“How do you think we have that kind of money?” Duke quips. “Gotta save where we can.”
Hunt chuckles. “We already ate at the bunkhouse.” He waves to the server, who literally hops, skips, and jumps to get to our table.
“Hunt.” She isn’t looking bored now, not even a little. Her eyes are perky,andshe’s pushing her tits out.
She takes their orders and, after shyly looking at Hunt, goes to the bar.
“What do you have that I don’t?” I look at Hunt with mock exasperation.
“A big dick,” Hunt deadpans.
“Is there anyone here you haven’t had sex with?” Joy glances at Hunt with barely contained irritation.
“Haven’t done it with you, darlin’.”
“Eww!” Joy gives him a withering look.
“Heard that Aria Delagado ain’t interested in sellin’.” Duke settles back in his chair. “I got a call from your BFF, asking me to help convince her sister to sell.”
I send him a flat, unimpressed stare. “I had to tell Celine that I wasn’t interested in her inthatway, which probably pissed her off.”
Duke chuckles as he wraps his arm around Elena.
“What’s your problem with her? She’s damn decent lookin’.” Hunt picks up a French fry from Joy’s plate and pops it into his mouth.
“She’s married.”
Hunt looks confused. “And?”
“And?” Joy playfully slaps Hunt’s hand. “My brother doesn’t have sex with married women. He has morals.”
“Hey, I’m not the one who’s married. I made promises to nobody. So, if the woman is married and she’s fuckin’ around, it ain’tmyproblem, moral or otherwise,” Hunt protests.
“Men!” Both Elena and Joy hiss, but there’s no heat in their words.
Hunt is not a saint, but he’s not an asshole. He’s the guy who gets along well with his exes and is always upfront about how he’s not looking for a commitment.
Hunt ignores Elena and my sister and leans on the edge of the table. “So, Mav, what’s your play?”
“I need to talk to Aria, and then I can come up with a plan on how to get her to sell,” I admit.
The server comes back with drinks, and after batting her eyelashes one too many times at Hunt, who seems to enjoy the attention, she leaves, hugging to the promise Hunt made of calling hersoon.
“From what I remember about Aria…she was a quiet kid. Liked to ride horses. Was interested in farming…the ranch,” Hunt says thoughtfully. “But, you know, Celine took up all the oxygen, so…we never got to know Aria.”
The music changes to a classic two-step—something with a steel guitar and the kind of rhythm that pulls boots to the floor without asking.
Laughter rises. Chairs scrape.
Couples start pairing off, moving toward the cleared space near the jukebox where someone strung fairy lights overhead.
“She’s got a strong spine,” I admit as her eyes flash in my mind, her poise and how she handled me when I was being a jackass. “Butthe debt is considerable, and she’s got inheritance taxes to deal with. Selling might be her only option.”
Elena shakes her head, disgust soft in her expression. “You’re being such a vulture, waiting for her to fail and give up so you can feast on the carcass of her legacy.”
