‘I’m not—’
‘Untouchable?Cold?Too fancy for an old shed like those stables, and this simple country house?’Porter smirked, with an easy confidence to his gait as he walked her boxes to the house.‘Face it, Montrose, you’re a snob.’
‘Am not.’
‘Oh, yes, you are.I bet you were picturing some flash stables with polished wood, brass nameplates, and someone on hand to muck out the stalls for you.’He gave her a once-over, his eyes twinkling with mischief.‘This place might not be up to your high-society standards, but it’s got four walls, a roof, and doors.What more could a princess want?’
‘Hey!’Her words echoed across the yard.‘Are you saying you don’t want me to move in?’
Porter added the boxes to the pile, his expression unreadable.‘Sure.If we’re being honest, part of me says no.Big time.’
‘Why?’She hadn’t realised her hesitation was that obvious—especially when this whole move was for a horse she hadn’t even meant to buy.
‘Because you’re justyou.’He glanced her way, one brow lifting like the answer was obvious.‘And because the last female who came here broke my heart.So yeah, I have this one rule.’
‘What’s that?’Did someone like Porter have a list of personal rules, like she did?
‘Hmph.’He turned away from her.
Instinctively, she reached for his arm, surprised how solid it felt under her fingers.‘I’m being serious.I live by rules… I have a Not-to-Love list.’
He became still and didn’t say a word.Not one smug response.Just that flicker of tension through his shoulders, as he contemplated her for a moment.
‘What is your rule?’she asked again.
‘Never fall in love with someone who could never love you back…’ His voice was cold, even his stance was stern like steel, as if bracing against the sting of his past.‘In the end, after chasing love and not getting anywhere… I decided to choose me first.’
‘I get it.’Oh, boy, did she get it.
Porter wasn’t looking for anything, just like her.
He may just be the perfect housemate—a cop who understood her job, who wasn’t looking for any romantic entanglements, and he had a stable.
Which meant she needed to make peace with him, because she needed this too.‘The reason Finn calls meConstableis because I asked him to.’
‘Why?’
‘Because when I begged him to take me on as part of his team…’ And she had begged.Not just asked.Not applied.Begged.It was something she’d never done before.
‘Finn still said no.’Brutally.And bluntly, Finn—the man who didn’t waste time on words, or niceties—had shot her hopes into a gazillion microscopic pieces with one word: no.
It was tragic.
‘Is that because you’re a…’
‘A young, single female.Finn wanted another guy, as we were on the road for a while.Someone with more stockman’s experience.’
‘And you have?’
‘Sheep station experience.The management side.And horses—not stockhorses, but polo, equestrian, cross-country, showjumping.Not stock camps and cattle drafts, but the kind of events where women wear frocks and fascinators instead of bulldust and boots.Where they carry champagne flutes, not beer cans.And where royalty might show up, and no one flinches.’She folded her arms, jaw set as she lifted her chin, meeting Porter’s look like a challenge.
Of course he arched an eyebrow.Again.
‘But you’re a cop, too, Montrose.I know Finn relies on you heavily for the legal side of things, because Craig and Stone aren’t cops.’
‘I’ve only been a constable a few years on general duties.I did get to spend six months with the South Australia Police Equestrian Division, which I thought was my dream job, but instead I was basically just a stablehand in a uniform.’Delegated the lowest role to scrub boots and shovel manure to prove she could be part of something.
‘Why?’Porter asked.
