‘No,’ Taryn agreed, still smiling sweetly at Amelia, her voice like warm honey.‘But you do try to distract me in the condiments aisle, hoping I won’t chase down the missing sauces.You know, the ones that make the dishes so much healthier, which you’re avoiding.’
Finn’s mouth twitched.How did she turn her job of chasing down his invoices and paperwork into sauces and dishes?
But it worked on the bouncy blonde.Amelia’s smile strained at the edges to become a sneer.‘Well, that’s… nice.’
‘You have no idea,’ Taryn purred—low, velvety.
Aimed straight at him, it unstitched something deep in his chest.
Helpless to stop himself, his hand tightened at her hip, drawing her closer, that her body melded so wrongly against him in all the right ways.
‘Careful, Fed.’Finn dipped his head close enough for his voice to brush the delicate skin just under her ear.‘You keep talking like that, and I might forget where we are…’ Or that they were faking.
He watched the goosebumps prickle along her arm, hearing that subtle hitch in her breath.And then she shifted, just slightly, allowing her shirt’s collar to part, giving him a spectacular view.A hint of lace.A tease of cleavage.
Finn’s pulse kicked hard.
Oh, he was in deep.And drowning.Taryn may be playing her part—but he was starting to forget the rules of engagement.
‘Well…’ Amelia hugged her colour-tagged wedding magazines like a life raft.‘You two make a very surprising couple.’She turned and disappeared down the next aisle fast.
Taryn stepped away, brushing his hand off like it had burned her.‘You owe me.’
Finn tried to forget the look on Taryn’s face.Or how his hand still remembered the feel of her.
They walked in silence to the counter, as Finn felt the heat crawl under his collar with one undeniable truth: it hadn’t felt fake.Not for a second.
His basket hit the bench with a quiet thud.He could only stand there like a damn statue.Watching her.Wanting her.And not saying a word.
‘I’ll need to speak with Bree next,’ Taryn said casually, as if talking about the weather, while the cashier packed his groceries.
What the—
She’d just dropped it.
The bomb.
Right there, between the flavoured milk and the chocolate.Like it meant nothing.
His spine went stiff.‘No.’
‘Bree runs the local brand registry.And there’s an invoice for her services for a brand consult.It’s relevant.’
‘No,’ he growled.‘It’s not happening.’
‘She’s also the reason Craig’s part of your team, and how you found your quarantine station.Oh, and that first job you had before you set up shop here in this little town of trouble, was all from Bree’s phone call from Elsie Creek Station.’She folded her arms, looking at him all cool, calm and in control.Like she hadn’t just ripped the steel door off the vault he’d welded shut as the barrier between his work and personal life.
How the hell did she know all that?
Finn’s jaw locked while glaring at her with heat.She wasn’t just auditing paper trails, she was piecing together the things she shouldn’t have known.
She’d make a bloody good detective—for the right reasons.Shame she was here for all the wrong ones.
And dragging Bree into this?That was a line he would not cross.
‘You’re playing with fire, Fed.’His voice dropped low and dangerous.‘That woman bends steel for a living.You dig too deep, and she’ll hand you your clipboard in pieces before she sends you sprinting across the tarmac to catch your flight back to Canberra.Do not mess with Bree.’
Taryn gave one of those annoying, casual shrugs of someone completely unfazed.‘This audit includes every consultant, Finn.Which now includes her.’
