Nah.This was Finn.The man with the emotions of a granite boulder, chiselled to block out anything like surprise.
Although, he’d been just as surprised as she was atthat kiss.
Nope, not gonna go there.
She clipped her badge to the front of her vest.Not the lanyard.Not the ID card.Her actual federal police badge, that she rarely flashed around these days, but it had made her parents so proud at graduation.Where, for once, her mum hadn’t worn the uniform that commanded attention, and her father was just a nerd in glasses.Just parents from the burbs.
Taryn snapped the vest shut.If she was in—she was all in.
And she wasnotthinking about that kiss.
The one that left a heat simmering low in her belly, as a sweet-tasting static skated across her tongue.A kiss that was so dangerous and oh so deliciously wrong, it lingered under her skin, like a secret she wasn’t ready to admit.
Nope.She was definitely not thinking about that kiss.
Focus, Hayes.
Nothing killed a moment like a full-blown tactical op and the mental monologue of David Attenborough in her head:And here, we observe the elusive Northern Territory Stock Squad’s bossy male in his natural environment.
Note the careful way he moves—silent, focused, dangerous.See how he secures the rear of his troopy, his posture radiating pure alpha-cop energy.And how these creatures are solitary by nature, deeply territorial, and known to grunt when irritated as a substitute for most words in the English language.
She smirked.
Finn glanced back over his shoulder.‘I can feel the sass vibrating off you from thirty paces, like a heatwave, Fed.’
She arched a brow.‘What?Are you suddenly an alien with mind-reading powers now?’
‘Nope.Just been around long enough to spot trouble when it’s smirking in my direction.’He slammed the troopy’s rear door shut.
‘Touché,’ she muttered, grabbing her workbag with the Gaps File tucked in next to her laptop, and climbed into the passenger seat.
The troopy made a slow descent to avoid stirring the dust on the hill and warn the incoming trucks they were there.
In position, it idled behind a low ridge, its engine a hum beneath the brisk morning breeze.
Taryn gripped the tablet she shared with Finn, watching the drone feed stabilise from ghostly shapes into high-def clarity against dawn’s dusty haze.‘Stunning vision.’
Two road trains on a lonely dirt road, a kilometre away from Billycan Corner.One road train was pulling in.The other already parked and waiting.
The incoming roadtrain, which Finn called a triple, was a massive truck dragging three trailers.Each tall trailer held two decks of cattle, and altogether, it carried over a hundred head—maybe more.
It stopped, the driver jumped out to unhitch the back trailer, then drove forward to get into position.
They were only switching the back trailer.
Fast.And efficient.
Dust curled around the massive tyres like red smoke as the rear trailer clicked into place behind the big rig.Too quick for paperwork to be checked and signed.And too big a deal to be a simple oversight.
The location didn’t help, either.A simple dirt road that Google couldn’t find, but it was now on Finn’s map.A road that led to a sunbaked four-way dirt crossroad made of old shortcuts, surrounded by scrub and dry hills.It was the perfect place for things to fall off the back of a truck, with no one around to ask questions.
Inside the troopy, the air was thick with dust, tension… and Finn.
Taryn tried not to notice the way his broad shoulders bunched beneath that worn shirt, or how his muscles flexed as he leaned over the steering wheel.It only made her follow the ink etched down his corded forearms, all the way to the tattoos gift-wrapping his strong capable hands.It was so distractingly hot, yet so wrong… in the best possible way, that it was both impossible and unforgettable.
Even the way he frowned had no right being that attractive.
Come on, Hayes.You’re here to investigate misconduct by this guy, not mentally undress him.
