Only His (Fool's Gold #6)(7)

“I was planning on giving her a team of my best guys.”

Ethan frowned. “Let me talk to her.”

Tucker shook his head. “Don’t. She either wants the job or she doesn’t. It needs to be her choice.”

“Okay. But don’t think this means you’re going to be in town and avoiding me. I want to have you over for dinner. You can meet Liz and the kids. See all you’ve been missing with your nomadic lifestyle.”

“I like my nomadic lifestyle.”

“That’s because you never were as bright as the rest of us.”

NEVADA DID HER BEST to ignore the pounding in her head. She’d taken as much aspirin as she thought was safe and had hydrated enough to water fifteen acres of corn, but she still felt as if she would have been smarter to shoot herself that morning.

Jo had tried to warn her, she reminded herself. She’d been very specific on the consequences of drinking that much—especially for someone who generally limited herself to a single drink. But had she listened? Of course not. Now she was paying the price with a pounding headache and a body that hurt everywhere but her eyelashes.

“I can’t believe you turned down the job.”

The loud words came unexpectedly, causing her to jump. She glanced up and saw her brother standing in the doorway to her office. Tucker had filled up the space nicely, she thought, remembering how good he’d looked and how that had pissed her off.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she mumbled, wondering when the last of the alcohol would finally get out of her system.

“You’re going to talk about it. This is what you wanted. You said you were interested in a challenge. Tucker’s offering all that. He thinks you’d be good for his team.”

Telling her sisters what had happened was one thing, but explaining the details to her brother wasn’t a place she was willing to go.

“I’m not interested anymore.”

“Why? I don’t get this. Are you scared?”

“No.”

“Then, what?”

Ethan was a great big brother. In school, he’d looked out for his baby sisters, and as an adult, he’d put his own dreams on hold so he could run the family business and put his younger siblings through college. He’d grown Hendrix Construction into a much larger company and had started a successful turbine business as well. He was a good guy.

That was why she couldn’t tell him about her sordid past with Tucker. Ethan would feel the need to do something, which would only complicate the situation.

“Ethan, I love you. Let it go.”

He stared at her for a long time, then shrugged. “Tucker’s a great guy. Why wouldn’t you want to work for him?”

“I just wouldn’t.”

“You’re being an idiot. You know that, right?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. It’s your decision.”

He walked away.

Nevada was left alone in her office, her head pounding, the past threatening to bubble over into the present. She tried to busy herself with work, but could not stare at her computer screen. Not with her headache. Giving in to the inevitable, she left for the day and walked home.

Late summer was a beautiful time in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada. Fool’s Gold sat nestled at about twenty-five hundred feet. Just high enough for them to have all four seasons, but not so high that they still had snow until June. To the east were the jagged peaks, to the west were the vineyards and the highway that led to Sacramento.

Nevada took a slightly longer route home, mostly because she wanted to be on quieter streets where she was less likely to run into anyone and have to make conversation. Between feeling like roadkill and having a very unusual urge to cry, she wanted to simply be, without any expectations.

As always, catching sight of her house made her feel better. It had been built in the 1920s by a man who loved all things Victorian. The three-story house rose well above all the neighboring homes, a fussy dowager out of place among more modern offerings. She’d bought the place three years ago and had done all the remodeling herself.

The new exterior paint had toned down the pink-and-yellow trim to a soft white. The house itself was a pale gray. Turrets stood on either side. One was her master bath, the other was part of the guest room.

She’d turned the main floor into two small apartments she rented out to college kids. This year her tenants were grad students who did something with computers. She wasn’t sure what, but they were quiet and paid their rent on time, which worked for her.

She climbed up the main staircase to her place—a spacious two-floor unit. After passing through her living room, she took a second set of stairs up to the third floor and walked into her bathroom.

She’d spent most of her time and budget on this bathroom and the kitchen and loved how both had turned out. The bathroom was huge, with a separate shower and a reproduction claw-foot tub. Big stained-glass windows let in plenty of light while giving her privacy and, when she stretched out in the tub, she could see the fireplace in the master bedroom.

Now, her head still pounding, she turned on the water and threw in a handful of jasmine-scented bath beads. In a matter of seconds, the soothing smell had combined with the steam, already relaxing her.

She walked into the bedroom and took off her boots, then stripped off her clothes. She shrugged into a robe and returned to the bathroom to wait for the tub to fill.