He must’ve had a hard head, because Silas stood there shocked. “What was that for?” he demanded.
Lana stalked into his personal bubble, jabbing a manicured finger toward Silas’s throat.
“That man right there is good and hardworking, and if I—as the principal on this account—decide to give him extra time on his rent, then he gets it. That was my decision, Silas. Mine. Not the group’s, not Killian’s, and certainly not yours.”
“What did I do?” Killian held up his hands innocently. “I like the place.”
Which would have been much more reassuring if the possibility of losing his pool hall wasn’t still lingering in the air.
Lana stalked forward, her fingernail digging farther into Silas’s Adam’s apple, causing him to take an involuntary step back.
“Now here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to apologize to Rick for this and for every snotty look and snarky comment you’ve made since coming into town. Because trust me, these people think even less of you than you think of my commercial properties.”
“The group’s properties,” Silas started to argue, but another finger jab, this one at an eyeball, made him duck.
“My commercial properties,” Lana all but growled at him. “And if they’d been managed properly from the onset, then good, hardworking people like Rick wouldn’t have to deal with peeled paint or wiggling handrails or goodness forbid, a sticking door.”
“Now, wait a second, Lana. Aunt Jessica sent me, and I have a job to do—”
“Silas, think very carefully here. I indulge you plenty, but who do you think will be in charge of whether you keep that job in the near future?”
“Excuse me?” Silas sounded shocked, his face going pale before reddening with anger.
“I normally wouldn’t rub that in your face and certainly not in polite company. But I don’t give a rat’s ass about what upsets you, not when you’re acting like a complete cad. Consider me unimpressed, Cousin.”
Killian whistled under his breath. “And that’s why we don’t piss off Lana. Brought it on yourself, buddy.”
At which point Silas called Lana something not very pleasant, and all those emotions Rick was feeling toward this stranger solidified into a very strong need to throw the pompous jerk out of his pool hall.
Jake began to growl, sensing the rising tension in the air. Stepping up next to Lana, Rick folded his arms, frowning at Silas.
“I know who you are,” Rick said quietly. “And I know who I’m not. But you’ll watch your tongue around the lady, or you and I are going to have a conversation you’re not going to like.”
That was the nice version of what Rick wanted to really say to the little shit giving Lana so much hell.
“Did you just threaten me?” Silas’s voice came out in an affronted squeak.
“No, Silas. You were simply warned to be a little more polite.” She glanced at Rick. “I’ve seen Rick threaten someone. It’s very impressive.”
Rick felt his neck heat up at her compliment, but he kept his eyes on Silas.
“And, Silas? We’re family, but I’m quickly getting tired of the way you treat people, myself included. I’m not above making sure you spend the next forty years flipping burgers on the night shift.”
Silas sputtered, then turned on his heel, stomping out.
“Can you really do that?” Killian asked, sounding cheerful. “Get him fired? Because I would love to see him flipping burgers on the night shift.”
“It depends. Things get tricky when family is involved. But I can certainly make his life miserable, which I have no problem doing if he insists on dishing out the same to you.”
Lana glanced guiltily at Rick as she picked up Jake, hugging him close.
“I’m sorry,” she told him, sounding beyond embarrassed. “I won’t come back here like this again.”
As she started for the door, Rick realized something. He’d rather have her in his pool hall while he took hell from her cousin than not have her in his day at all. Jumping after her, Rick risked a startled nip from Jake to take her elbow.
“Wait. That guy isn’t you, Lana. You’re always welcome here.”
Maybe he sounded like a complete fool saying so, or at least a little desperate, but to earn a smile like the one spreading across her gorgeous face? Rick was more than happy to be a little desperate for Lana any day.
This time when she went up to her toes to kiss his cheek, her lips lingered.
“How about this. I won’t let him come back here. But if the offers stands, I’ll definitely take you up on it.”
Would the offer stand? Absolutely.
Chapter 6
“Are you sure this is the proper attire?” Lana glanced down at herself. “I’d hate to embarrass myself.”
Dressed from head to toe in her own winter ghillie suit, Zoey gave an emphatic nod, furry strips of white and pale-gray fabric swinging with the motion. “We need to be in camouflage. This moose is a trickster.”
Lana had dropped Jake off with Graham and then met with Zoey out in the woods, off a section of road she wasn’t familiar with.
They’d come prepared. Thermos filled with hot coffee, zero-degree winter gear beneath their ghillie suits, granola bars in their backpacks. Two large flasks of a very spice-heavy eggnog the Lockett patriarch had brought over for Zoey to try and Easton’s livestock tranquilizer gun, complete with moose-sized darts. The rest of Graham’s truck bed was filled to bursting with all the garish holiday inflatables, weathered plastic light-up figurines, and used polyvinyl Christmas trees one could obtain on the sly.
Strings of lights and power cords overflowed from piled-up buckets. They had two lawn chairs to sit on while hiding in the shadows of the surrounding trees and heating pouches for their gloves if they got cold. And lastly, one satellite phone to call in their capture (and subsequent victory), borrowed from a very hesitant Ash, who promised hell to pay if they broke it.
If one were to catch a Santa Moose, there was only one way to do it—set a Christmas trap.
At first, they’d started small. After all, most of what attracted the moose was blinking lights. Lana wasn’t sure where they were or where the power cords Zoey kept stretching were running to, but they’d divvied up the work. The more decorations they set up, the more focused Lana became on not only setting the scene but telling a story. Theirs was a Christmas town filled with hope, full of cheer, and even perhaps full of romance.
Lana had seen the way Mrs. Claus was making bedroom eyes at Frosty’s button nose.