Gone Country (Rough Riders #14)(112)

“Don’t even try to pull off contrite, Dalton.”


He laughed. “Sorry. So as long as we’re swapping stories about how we made our millions—ha ha—I gotta know if all of yours was inherited.”


Strange to think his brothers hadn’t asked him this question. But since Dalton had been honest with him, he owed his cousin the same courtesy. “My dad started a real estate development company in the 1960s. He did very well in the 70s, 80s and lost more than half when the credit market collapsed. He recovered, but never like during the heyday. He died when I was twenty-eight and I was already VP of the company, so I took over.” Gavin sipped his drink. “My father was a great guy, but I found out a few things he’d done that were shady and I worried his mistakes would come back and bite me in the ass.


“So a few years after his death, I started buying cheap properties. Rentals in decent areas that didn’t require more than basic updates. Two properties turned into four, four turned into eight…and so on. Around that time, I’d had enough of my cheating wife and filed for divorce. Instead of letting that bitterness eat away at me more than it already had, I become more hands on, buying government foreclosures, houses auctioned by banks, any little gem I could turn fast. I’d go in and gut the place. There’s nothing more cathartic than beating the f*ck out of stuff with a sledgehammer.”


“Are you kiddin’ me?”


“No. I worked out my aggression toward my ex-wife and started flipping houses at exactly the right time in the market. I made a killing. I reinvested it in rental properties. Daniels Development Group is still in business, I’m still a figurehead CEO, but with the spectacular crash of the housing market, the bulk of my business focus is Daniels Property Management. Since I’m not hands-on, ripping places apart, I can work from anywhere. Made it easy to move here.”


“I had no idea. I gotta say. That’s impressive.” Dalton gave him a self-satisfied smile. “Everyone else in the family sees you as a suit, making real estate deals. From this point on, I’ll see you busting shit up with a chainsaw.”


Gavin laughed.


“So we have a deal?”


“All right.”


“This stays between us,” Dalton cautioned. “If anything changes on your end or my end, we’ll agree to meet to discuss it before making a decision?”


“Sounds good.”


Without missing a beat, Dalton said, “Now that that’s out of the way, you wanna play pool?”


Gavin studied the too-innocent face. Pool shark as well as card shark? Probably. But Gavin still had a few tricks he could teach this pup. “Sure. But we’re not playing for money, right?”


“How about if we play a few games and see how it goes?”


“Sounds fair.”


Two hours later Gavin went home three hundred dollars richer.


He doubted Dalton would underestimate him again.


Chapter Thirty-Three


March…


Rielle stormed into Gavin’s bedroom. “Do you know who I just got off the phone with?”


“Publishers Clearing House?”


“Not even remotely funny, Gavin Daniels. A trucking company based out of Denver just called, asking me when I’d be home to accept shipment for a greenhouse. Not a greenhouse kit, but a fully finished greenhouse.”


He had a hard time containing his smile.


Her gaze pierced him. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”


“Could you describe this greenhouse?”


Rielle threw up her hands. “It’s a greenhouse! You know very well what a greenhouse looks like.”


“Oh, right. Then that’s probably the greenhouse I bought you.”


“Did I just hear you say you bought me a greenhouse?”


“Is there an echo in here? Yes, I bought you a greenhouse. And I’m disappointed because they were supposed to deliver it last week.”


“Oh. My. God. Are you serious?”


“Completely.”


“Who buys someone a f*cking greenhouse?” she demanded.


“I didn’t buy someone a f*cking greenhouse, I bought you a f*cking greenhouse,” he shot back. “Big difference.”


“How did you even know I was pricing them?”


Gavin cocked his head. “Rory told me.”


“What? When the hell did you talk to my daughter?”


“Last week she called to check on Sierra, when Sierra was sleeping, so I chatted with her. She apologized for being a jerk when she found out we were together. I confessed I’d been difficult to live with in the weeks after Sierra’s accident and I wanted to make it up to you.”


“That’s your way of apologizing? You buy me a greenhouse?”


“Yep.”


“Jesus, Gavin. Why didn’t you just buy me flowers?”


“In a way, I did. You can grow your own flowers in your new f*cking greenhouse.” He grinned.


“You are impossible. I can’t accept this from you.”