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He could’ve laughed at her directness. This was a side of Maisie he didn’t mind seeing.

“Why, what?” he asked, faking ignorance.

“Why would you be disappointed? You seemed to be perfectly fine with that cute little brunette back there.”

Jealousy had never looked so good. It wasn’t rage or anger. Just straight up irritation. He wanted to throw his head back with gleeful laughter.

Of course, the thought of the roles being reversed, of her receiving attention from some other lad, well, that just made something roil inside of Finn.

He brushed the thought aside. He much preferred Maisie being jealous instead of him. “She is cute,” he said. “Isn’t she?”

Maisie watched him in silence, clearly debating on how to respond, then she turned and walked away. “Sure, if you like that type.”

“Absolutely,” he said, following after her. “But I’ll be honest now. I’ve never really had a thing for brunettes.”

He emphasized the final word, flashing a grin as she turned back around to face him for what seemed the hundredth time, as if she couldn’t keep her eyes off of him.

He hoped that was true. Because he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her.

She searched him in silence. “I just don’t get you,” she finally stated. “You’ve been outright flirting with me for days until I, what, scare you off? Then you come back and start flirting with me all over again, but only when I tell you I wasn’t coming on to you. What is that about?”

Finn hesitated. It was no wonder she was confused. He was confused. He was torn between wanting to explain everything and wanting to tease her more just to see her blue eyes sparkle.

He was torn between wanting to share with her that his hands were tied—that his family was poor, he was poor, and he was doing everything in his power to hold them all together—and wanting to share with her that flirting with her was the only thing he could do to maintain some semblance of normalcy. That if he stopped speaking with her like he had today, he would lose all sense of hope in this world and drown in his stress.

But none of that could be shared with a woman he’d known for barely three days.

“I, erm…” he began, but nothing else came. Her eyes bore into his, but still, nothing. “I…”

A low growling sounded beside them, and he paused. “Is that…?”

“Trifle!” Maisie whispered, looking to the side of them.

Finn had never been more grateful to hear the spiteful little pup.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Maisie forgot—or at least tried to—all that had transpired between herself and Finn, devoting her attention to catching Renee’s precious dog.

She looked around them but couldn’t figure out where the growling had come from.

“Say something,” she whispered to Finn.

“What?” he asked in only a slightly hushed tone.

“Say something.”

“What are you wantin’ me to say?” he asked, completely befuddled.

That had done the trick. A second later, Trifle’s growling picked up again.

“Ah ha!” Maisie said in another excited whisper.

Swiftly, she moved to the end of the hallway, rounding the corner slowly so only her eyes could peer down the other side. Sure enough, Trifle stood at the end of a blocked-off corridor, cowering in the corner, every inch of her slight body trembling.

Maisie pulled back around, her mind racing to figure out how to keep her from bolting again.

“Is it her?” Finn asked.