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One day he’d probably decide to head into town, find himself someone to spend the night with. Hell, maybe he’d even go for two nights. But it wouldn’t be anything deep or meaningful, and it wouldn’t be anything lasting.
Short, sweet, and easy. That’s all he’d ever be in the market for.
“Yeah, well, I’ll take that under advisement,” he said, turning back to his truck. “But I do hear you about taking my deal out on other people. I’ll handle it.”
“Sure you will.” Clint’s tone dripped skepticism. “Just make sure you don’t hurt anyone who doesn’t deserve it.”
And it was clear who Clint was referring to.
Finn looked at the older man, held his gaze. “I won’t,” he said, and meant it. “That’s the last thing in the world I want.”
Clint grunted. “Fine. You sorted out a temporary arrangement with Miller and his boys?”
Toby Miller had a farm not far from Clint’s and a couple of sons who helped him out with it. Toby had a bit of experience with horses, so Finn had asked him if he and his boys would give him a hand, since Finn wasn’t going to be able to manage the stables on his own, not when he had his commitments with Pure Adventure NZ too. At least until he’d found a permanent stable manager.
“Yeah, Toby’s fine with it.”
“Good. Oh, before you go, there was one other thing I wanted to ask you while I remember.”
“What?”
“I can’t take Karl with me to Christchurch. There’s no room at Lizzie’s and he’ll hate the city. You know of anyone who can take him?”
Finn looked down at the dog sitting at Clint’s feet.
The dog looked back, ears pricked, as if waiting for something.
He didn’t need another animal, not when he was already buying himself a lot of horses. Then again, why not take the dog? He’d gotten used to living by himself, but maybe it would be nice to have the company. And Karl was affectionate and obedient, a great dog.
“I can,” Finn said, deciding. “He can live with me.”
“Good.” Clint gave Karl another scratch. “See you back here in fifteen then.”
Finn nodded, then strode back to his truck.
Beth was sitting in the passenger seat, a familiar paper bag in her hands, and she started guiltily as he pulled open the door.
The front of her T-shirt was dusted with golden flakes of pastry, as were her jeans, and she was in the process of wiping away yet more from around her mouth.
“Bloody hell.” Finn was suddenly extremely irritated. “You damn well ate that sausage roll, didn’t you?”
Beth put a hand over her mouth. “Oops. I did. Sorry, my bad.”
She did not look sorry in the least.
“That wasmysausage roll.”
She shrugged. “Well, you didn’t have an apple for me, did you?”
And a pulse of heat hit him straight in the gut.
This was revenge, wasn’t it? Because he’d unsettled her. He’d made her stare, wiped that smile off her face, made her blush, and now she was pissed about it. It was obvious.
“You should have waited.” A rough thread wound through his voice. “I would have found one for you.”
She blinked. Then another pink flush swept over her face and she looked away, brushing the crumbs from her T-shirt with slightly more vigor than necessary, bracelets chiming. “I didn’t want an apple. I wanted a sausage roll.”
He shouldn’t be saying these things to her, shouldn’t be unsettling her, yet he was—that was clear.
