“Fifteen miles.”
“That might be enough.Bacon?”
He stands still, confusion spread all over his handsome face.
I shoot him a huge smile to reassure him that I’m happy.That I love my job and that the pay is more than enough and I’m thrilled to finally have a job that pays a livable wage.
“You deserve that money, Emma.”His voice is soft and gravelly.I haven’t heard him sound like that since the kiss.“You work very hard, and you are exceptional at what you do.You are conscientious and reliable, and you deserve every penny of that money.You’ve earned it.”
I nod again and sniff.“Thank you.Yes, you’re right.I do work hard, and I am good at my job.Thank you for being a wonderful boss.”
His head drops and he turns to go.But then he spins around again.“Have you heard about the Travis Ranch Summer Fair?It’s a little thing they do every year at the next ranch over.They have rides and games and a lot of food—all the major food groups: sugar, fat,andsalt.And sometimes, they deep fry the sugar, fat, and salt.”
I laugh.This paycheck has made me giddy.
Finn smiles.“One year they had a two-headed steer.Now, that was a real crowd-pleaser.”
“Sounds fun,” I say.“Except for the two-headed steer part.”
“That was a few years back.I doubt they’ll have anything like that this year.The Travis brothers have been bragging about their singing chicken, but, like everything they say, I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“Uh huh.”I’m not sure where this is leading.Most of our conversations over the past few weeks have been like this, strained and awkward.Although there are a whole lot more words in this one.
“Anyway,” he says, running a hand over his hair.His bicep bulges as he does this, and I choke back a sigh.“The fair is tonight and Jasmine and I are going.Would you like to join us?”
“To see the singing chicken?”
He laughs.“Probably just to eat cotton candy and maybe a deep-fried Snickers bar if you’re up to it.And we can play a lot of unwinnable carnival games.”
“Sure!I’ve never been to a carnival as a paying guest.”
A shadow falls across his face.“We’ll right that wrong tonight.”
CHAPTER 39
Emma
While Jasmine is at school and Finn is out working at a job I know very little about, I do a quick tidy of the house and gather cleaning supplies to deal with Finn’s master suite.I’m a little uncomfortable.
I don’t know what I’m going to find in there, what I’ll learn about him that I’d rather not know.I’ve cleaned a lot of people’s houses over the years, and it’s a strange feeling to be touching things that don’t belong to you in a room that is most private to them.
You tend to get a really good sense of a person when you’re picking up everything to dust it, organizing things, taking out the trash, and changing sheets.
I stand in front of his closed bedroom door, put my hand on the knob, and open it.
This is not at all what I expected, because I expected the bedroom version of the refrigerator.And this isn’t that.
It’s tidy and generally organized.Yes, it needs a good vacuuming and dusting, but this is the bedroom of a man who likes things orderly.It’s probably his military background.And it’s the opposite of how I found Jasmine’s room and the downstairs when I arrived.
Interesting.
It’s another professionally designed space.A perfectly coordinated color scheme of creams earthy greens, and dusky blues.There’s a stunning antique Persian rug, a massive mirror-topped fireplace mantel, and a king-sized bed.
The bed is a showstopper.It’s made of an exotic wood, dark and hand-carved, and it’s obvious it’s been shipped here from some far-away land.Probably an antique.Maybe from a Moroccan palace or someplace equally extraordinary.
I stroke my hand along the footboard, noting the heavy, solid feel of the wood, wondering about the artist who made it.It’s a masculine bed.The bed of a single man—a very wealthy one.And it suits Finn—dark and mysterious and strong.
I like it.
