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Beth gave her shoulder another reassuring pat. “Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out. How’s that dyeing coming along?”
It was the right question to ask, since Indigo immediately cheered up, going into an in-depth explanation about how Cait had allowed her to use the kitchen in the Rose, and it was great because the stove was big enough for her to have four dye pots going at once.
Indigo lost her pinched look and more or less sparkled when she was talking about the things she loved, and it made Beth happy to see it. She’d been worrying about her friend and hoping that coming to New Zealand had been the right decision for her. In the past month, she’d become very invested in both Izzy and Indigo, but now that Izzy had Chase and was building a life with him, it seemed as if Indigo was the one she really needed to worry about.
“You should wear something pretty tonight,” she said to Indigo as the two of them left the gallery and made their way back to the Rose to grab some lunch. “Like a dress or a skirt.”
Indigo, who lived in jeans and ratty T-shirts and the odd brightly colored shawl she’d knitted, scowled. “What? Why?”
“Well, for a start, it’s an engagement party, so it might be nice to make an effort,” Beth said. “Plus wearing something pretty puts you in a good mood.”
Indigo scowled harder. “It doesn’t put me in a good mood.”
“Oh come on. You’re telling me that wearing a pretty sweater knitted from nice yarn doesn’t make you happy?”
“That’s a low blow,” Indigo muttered. “Anyway, I know where you’re going with this and there’s no way I’m dressing to please some dumb man.”
Beth put on an innocent face. “Did I say anything about dressing to please some dumb man? Besides, that’s no way to talk about my boyfriend, Levi.”
Indigo stopped short and glowered. “He isnotyour boyfriend.”
Interesting response. Clearly she’d hit a nerve.
Feeling bad now, because as much fun as some gentle teasing of Indigo was, it became less fun when it hurt her feelings.
“Sorry, hon,” she said apologetically. “You know I don’t think of him that way.”
“Well, I don’t either.”
But Beth suddenly wasn’t listening, her attention caught by the arrival of a familiar, mud-splashed truck pulling up outside HQ.
A tall male figure got out, along with some others who were looking as mud-splashed as the truck. Obviously some tourists returning from one of the longer hikes Pure Adventure NZ took people on.
They all gathered beside the truck as the tall man went to haul rucksacks out of the truck’s bed.
Finn, clearly coming back from his hike.
One woman was talking to him, looking at him raptly, as if he were imparting the wisdom of the ages. And no wonder.
Even though he was as mud-splashed as the rest of them, the midday sun glossed his black hair and turned his olive skin a deep golden brown, while the black Pure Adventure NZ T-shirt he wore, damp with sweat as he hauled out the rucksacks, clung to his muscled chest.
Finn Kelly was gorgeous and any woman with eyes could see that.
Beth mouth’s went dry and her cheeks heated, and even though she desperately wanted to, she couldn’t look away.
This was stupid. What was she doing staring at him like that? She hadn’t seen him in a couple of days, it was true, but it wasn’t as if she’d missed his glowering, broody presence, not one iota.
Why would she? When they weren’t even friends?
Mystery, the stray dog that everyone in the town had tried at some point to adopt but no one had successfully managed to, had trotted from around the back of HQ and was now nosing around the tourists. They all exclaimed over him, giving him lots of attention, but once he realized there were no treats on offer, he sneezed in disgust and trotted off again.
Finn pulled out the last rucksack and dumped it beside the truck with the others, nodding as the woman kept talking to him.
Then he abruptly glanced toward where Beth and Indigo stood.
And even though he was some distance away and Beth couldn’t make out his face, she felt the impact of his gaze like a weight driving all the air from her lungs.
Oh hell. That wasn’t good. That wasn’t good at all.
