Colorado Mountain series by Kristen Ashley

“Um…” I began, my muscles growing tight.

“Trevor, shut it,” Max growled.

“Curt’s gone, Max, someone’s gotta step into his shoes,” Trevor told him.

“That’d be you,” Max returned.

“Ain’t me and we both know it,” Trevor replied, leaned closer and said low, “Now, you’d be doin’ it for Bitsy.” Max made no response, his face was stony and Trevor regarded him for several seconds before he finished. “’Spect, you think on that awhile, I’ll see you at the office.” He nodded to me, mumbled a, “Pleasure to meet you,” and walked away.

I turned to Max and asked, “Darling, are you okay?”

Max looked down at me and said, “Gave me the acreage around my land.”

“Sorry?”

“That fifteen acres? It’s acres he bought up for what he was plannin’ for my land. That’s what he gave me.”

I leaned into him and put my hand on his bicep as I whispered, “Oh my.”

A muscle leaped in Max’s jaw, he bent closer to me and whispered back, “Ain’t what you think, babe, the inheritance tax on that land’s gonna be crippling.”

My hand flexed on his bicep as my heart squeezed and I breathed, “Max.”

“I pay it, it’ll cut deep and it’ll be hard for me to keep all of it. Means I’ll have to sell it. I’ll make a whack on it but whoever I sell it to isn’t gonna keep it clean. They’ll build. Means I’ll have condos or houses or somethin’ restin’ at the edge of my land. Land that’s been unspoiled for… fuckin’… ever.”

“Darling,” I whispered.

“And it’s the land that butts the edge of the bluff.”

My fingers spasmed on his bicep, my stomach dropped in an unpleasant way and I stared at him.

Then I got closer and said, “Max, you can’t sell it.”

“He f**ked me, babe. He said I won but that was his sick joke. He f**ked me. Instead of givin’ that land to Trev or Bitsy, who’d have to do somethin’ with it themselves which wouldn’t be on me, he gave it to me knowin’ I’d have to sell, knowin’ he’d be makin’ me ruin my mountain, destroy my bluff. When if I stayed with him years ago, I’d have my land, that land and I’d be in a position to afford to keep both just like it is.”

I felt my heart begin to race as that red started seeping over my eyes. I didn’t even know him, but I hated Curtis Dodd.

“You can’t sell,” I declared.

“Got no choice, Duchess.”

“I’ll help you.”

Max’s already stony face turned to granite.

Then he growled, “Not gonna happen.”

“Max –”

His eyes moved over my shoulder and he clipped, “Later.”

“Max,” Bitsy said, wheeling up to us with George at her side, she was beaming. “Curt finally did it. Healed the breach.” She was apparently unaware of the catastrophe that had been perpetrated in this room. “It sucks, he did it after dyin’, but at least he did it.”

“Yeah,” Max grunted and Bitsy turned her smile to me.

“It’s a long story but at least it ends well,” she told me.

“Mm hmm,” I mumbled, my hand travelling down Max’s arm to grasp his and his fingers curled around mine in a death grip.

“You must be Nina,” George said and I nodded while trying not to wince. “Bitsy tells me you’re her new attorney,” he went on and my eyes swung to Bitsy who was still grinning ear to ear and then back to George as he kept talking. “And, seein’ as I don’t exactly want to lose her as a client, thought we could talk while these two read their letters from Curtis.”

“Nina’s movin’ to town, George,” Max announced and George’s eyes, still on me, grew shrewd. “Yeah, I’ve seen her in action, you definitely wanna clear an office for her.”

“You’re moving here?” Bitsy asked, even more delighted at this news.

“Well –” I started.

“Yeah,” Max stated.

“That’s great!” Bitsy declared.

“Um…” I mumbled.

“Letters are on the desk, they’re addressed on the envelopes, don’t know what’s in ‘em. It’s weird, the timin’, but Curt just gave ‘em to me to give to you a coupla weeks ago,” George told them and moved to me, taking my elbow and Max dropped my hand as George finished. “We’ll give you a minute.”

He led me out as I looked over my shoulder at Max who jerked his head at George then he followed Bitsy who was wheeling toward the desk. I lost sight of them when George closed the door. Then he led me a couple of feet away and stopped.

“You really movin’ here?” he asked.

“Um…” I answered.

“Need help, seriously, divorces, adoptions, wills, a bunch of snot-nosed, rich kids doin’ shit, petty crime, their parents always wantin’ their kids to have their day in court rather than takin’ their community service or payin’ their fine like they should, teachin’ the kids a lesson. I’m f**kin’ buried.”

I stared at him then said, “Well –”

“Don’t want to lose Elizabeth Dodd as a client, either. If she keeps Curtis’s business alive, she’s a freakin’ cash cow.” My eyes narrowed and George said swiftly, “In a good way, of course.”

“Yes, there are a number of good ways someone could use the term ‘cash cow’ when referring to a human being,” I retorted.

“Still, you see what I’m sayin’,” he told me.

“I do indeed,” I replied.

“Send me your resume, I’ll have a look,” he invited.

“Why don’t you send me yours and I’ll see if I want an office here or if I want to put up my own shingle,” I returned.

His brows shot up and he asked, “Competition?”

“I know it’ll be a new thing for you as Max told me you’re the only business in town but I decide to go that way, I’m sure you’ll get into the spirit of things.”

His hands came up in a placating gesture. “I see no reason to shake things up, Nina. You got experience, we can work together.”

“We may be able to work together if I never hear you refer to Bitsy or anyone else as a cash cow. They’re clients with issues we need to help them sort. Not dollar signs. Or at least that’s the way I work. Am I understood?”