Read Online Gold Fire by Starr Ambrose - Free Book Online Page B

he has there.”
    She arched an eyebrow. “Don’t you have anything better to do than watch us?”
    “I always keep an eye on suspicious customers.”
    “Then you’re wasting your time, because we’re about as unsuspicious as you can get. We’re here during business hours, not sneaking around behind your back, bashing in headlights. The Alpine Sky is a class act, and so are the Flemmings.”
    He studied her. “You really believe that?”
    Beneath his scowl, his blue eyes were piercing, searching hers for the answer. It took her by surprise—he was serious. He obviously saw something in Matt that she didn’t see. Or he imagined it; he was good at that, judging by how quickly he’d accused her of helping whoever had taken a few swings at his truck.
    “I’ve worked for the Flemmings for years,” she told him, exaggerating the relationship to include the whole family. “They’ve never been anything but generous and fair.” Except for Buck’s demeaning view of women, but that was in the past.
    As she spoke, he glanced toward the bar and stood up. She knew without looking that Matt was on his way back.
    Jase passed beside her as he left, leaning close to her ear. He let several strands of red hair slide through his fingers. “I like it better down,” he said, his voice a low rumble that raised goose bumps along her arm.
    She shivered and rubbed them away self-consciously. It didn’t help. She could still feel the whisper of his breath tingling against her scalp, and the tug of his fingers on her hair. Goose bumps popped out all over again.
    Whatever it was he did to her, she was going to have to get over it. Fast.
    •  •  •
    Fishing had been a terrific idea. In spite of whatever motive Brandon had for getting him out here, forgetting the saloon for a few hours felt good.
    Jase cast his lure, the zing of the line breaking the clear air over Killdeer Creek with a high-pitched whine. As soon as the feathery lure hit the surface he began reeling it in again, almost hoping a fish didn’ttake it. The constant repetition of casting and reeling in had become soothing in its monotony.
    “We should have come earlier,” Brandon called out as he stepped from around a boulder fifty feet downstream. He splashed his way toward Jase through the knee-deep water, his steps slow in the clumsy hip waders and strong current.
    “You didn’t catch any?” Jase asked when he got closer.
    “No, how about you?”
    “Just one. A big guy, probably as big as that one you got at Deadwood last summer.”
    “Huh. Did you take a picture?”
    “No.”
    “Then he was smaller.”
    Jase laughed and finished reeling in the line, securing the lure to the pole. “You ready for lunch?”
    “Past ready. You think I invited you fishing just to let the trout laugh at me? I want one of those sandwiches your new cook makes. You should sell them.”
    “And here I thought you liked my company.” He waded toward the bank as Brandon followed.
    “Nah, I’m just using you for food.” He splashed ashore and started removing his waders. “Plus, I asked you so I could make sure you know what the hell you’re doing before you get involved with one of the Larkin girls.”
    Jase stopped, the wader’s shoulder straps hanging at his waist. “Jesus, Brandon. Do you really intend to pull some Dr. Phil shtick on me?”
    “It’s for your own good, boy-o. I wouldn’t be a friend if I didn’t let you know what you’re getting involved in.”
    Jase pulled the waders off. “First, I’m not getting involved in anything. Our relationship is purely business. And second”—he scowled and emphasized his words—“ I’m not getting involved .”
    Brandon regarded him mildly. “Pretty passionate about that, aren’t you?”
    Jase reached into a canvas bag and tossed Brandon a tightly wrapped sandwich. “Screw you.”
    “My, my, we’re touchy.”
    Brandon hoisted himself onto their usual lunch spot, a flat-topped boulder by the creek. Jase