Bo crossed his right leg over his left. “Not much to discuss. That land used to be my cousin’s, and I met him out there thinking he still owned it. When I realized my mistake, we tried to leave, but your hired gun here attempted to kill us.” Bo paused. “He also called me a boy, which is offensive and racist in this part of the world.” Bo glared at Finn. “And if he hadn’t been armed and had two sidekicks with him that were also packing, I would have unscrewed his head and pissed down it.”

Zannick tapped his fingertips on the table. “Finn tells me that you and Mr. Rowe had someone armed who was helping you.”

Bo peered at Zannick, unable to read anything in his blank gaze. Though Bo didn’t have the first clue who had come to his and his cousin’s aid last night, he wasn’t about to confess that here. “A good thing we did.”

“Well . . .” Zannick pressed back from the table. He smiled but his eyes remained lifeless and seemed to hold no feelings. Bo couldn’t tell whether he was mad, irritated, or happy. “I think what we’re describing is a rather large miscommunication.” He paused. “Though I certainly would have every right to take this matter to the police, given your cousin Mr. Rowe’s repeated trespassing on my property, I’ve decided to refrain from doing so provided that you’ll also refrain from getting the authorities involved because of Finn’s . . . aggressive behavior and that you won’t say anything to the newspapers or media about the incident.”

Bo glanced at Finn, noticing that the longhaired brute’s neck had turned bright red. He obviously wasn’t in agreement with his boss’s compromise.

“You’ve got a deal,” Bo said, focusing on Zannick. He didn’t like it, but he damn sure didn’t want another bogus criminal charge on his record.

“Excellent,” Zannick said. “Now, let’s talk about the property you own on Highway 64. I understand it’s about a thousand acres.”

Bo shook his head, impressed by the younger man’s 180-degree change in direction. “Before we do, mind telling me why you wanted to meet here?” Bo turned his index finger in a circle.

“I own the Sundowners now,” Zannick said, moving his eyes around the nearly empty space. “And Finn manages it for me.”

“Man of many hats,” Bo said, looking at Finn. “Well, I should be heading on,” Bo said, rising from his chair.

“How much for the land you own on Highway 64?”

Bo squinted at the small man. “It’s not for sale.”

“Everything is for sale,” Zannick said.

Bo placed his hands on the table and leaned toward him. “You think you sound cool saying that?”