‘Nothing wrong with that.’
Instantly she doused her inner fire with a few fast blinks to show surprise.
Ooh, she must be tired if she was letting her shields down like that.She almost looked human.
‘What do you mean by that?’Her tone was challenging—a nice change from her defensive one.
‘Everyone has standards, some higher than others.You… just judge.’
‘I do not.’
He tossed his thumb in the direction they’d just come from.‘You were judging Finn’s place.’
‘And you weren’t?’
‘That’s a bachelor’s pad.It’s not the first house I’ve seen with an engine in the living room.’Which made him wonder how much experience she actually had as a South Australian Police Constable.
Not that he was knocking her skills—hell, he’d copped a few hard lessons on the job himself—but Amara had landed a sweet gig transferring into the Federal Stock Squad.She must have more going for her than flawless filing skills.
‘Like I said, the food in the fridge was a stockman’s staple.That’s basically bread, beer, and some dead horse.You do know what that is—’
‘Tomato sauce!’ She scowled at him, her armour of police perfection cracking.
‘So you’d know that’s enough to whack a chunk of roadkill on the barbie and call it a sanga?’
She rolled her eyes.‘English, Porter.You are a policeman—allegedly.’
‘I’m not a cop 24/7, Montrose.And in this town, I’ve seen dirt bikes, quads and outboard motors occupying lounge rooms.Then there’s the countless kitchen tables covered in all sorts from saddles to chainsaws.’
‘Coz it’s a bloke thing to do.’She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.
Deadset, he was gonna have a cardiac arrest if she started pouting with those pillowy lips of hers.
‘I suppose you have some vehicle in your living room, too?’With that hoity-toity tone of hers, no wonder Stone called her Duchess.
‘No.I have a couch.In fact, I’ve just bought a new one.’He was looking forward to lounging back on it after this shift.
‘Why did you get a new couch?’
‘The dog chewed it up while I was at work one day.’He sighed heavily, his eyes on the road.‘Willow.’He still missed that dog.‘She was this pretty kelpie.I’d spent a fortune on vet fees fixing her up, too.’
‘Why?’
‘I found Willow on this wallaby track in the middle of nowhere, coming back from a hunting trip for ferals.She was barely alive.I had to fight off the large scavenger birds to save her.’Damn, broke his heart too.But when he’d heard that slight whimper, it filled him with hope.He’d broken speed records to get that dog to the vet that day.
‘Do you still have her?You saidwas.’
‘Willow is living her best life as a muster dog at Elsie Creek Station with one of the Riggs brothers.She placed in the top six in the local muster dog trials this year.’Adjusting his grip on the steering wheel, he smiled with pride.‘It was her first trial, too.I’m betting she’ll win it in a year or two.’
‘You didn’t keep her?’
‘Couldn’t.’
‘Because she chewed up your couch?’
‘Trust me, Willow did not enjoy being cooped up in a house all day.She needs to run.’The dog still remembered him—greeting him with a big grin as she jumped up to his chest for that cuddle every time he visited Elsie Creek Station.‘She’s not a pet, Duchess.She’s a working dog.’
Amara frowned.
