Page 32 of The Right Wrong Promise

He’s not wrong.

Ihatethat he has a point.

Yes, I could hire a few guys to come here and help out. It’s not like I don’t have the money. But if I’m being offered free repairs, what kind of idiot would I be to turn him down?

“You really take the Saint thing seriously, don’t you?” I feel a slight thrill of victory as he snorts and rolls his eyes.

If he wants to keep barging into my life, I’m going to annoy the crap out of him.

“Brilliant, Miss Manners. I’ve never heard that shit before.”

“What else do you do? Help schoolkids cross the street? Rescue kittens stuck up trees?” I stack a few plates from the table to lend him a hand. Impressively, the dishes were cleaned, nothing but crumbs left behind.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. Are you always this damn judgmental over a guy helping out?”

Ouch, somebody’s sensitive.

“Only when a guy gets all secretive and gives me a good reason to figure him out.” Reaching past him, I open the dishwasher. Thankfully, it was barely used when the house was abandoned and still works. As I load it, I feel him eyeing me with pure ice. “What? I just think it’s important to know the details about your renters.”

“Technically, I’m renting from Mrs. Griffith.”

“And technically, she works for me. She’s also the reason we’re in this mess. But I bet you know technicalities get you nowhere.”

He almost smiles.

Almost.

Probably a trick of the light.

The next second, he’s right back to resting scowlyface.

“And what about you?” he asks. “Would you stop to save a kitten if you saw it on your way to drop a few thousand on designer shoes?”

“Well, yeah! I’m not a monster. I’d call the fire department. You seriously think I could climb a tree in heels?” I hold out my leg, shaking my bare foot.

His gaze scorches my flesh for a frenzied second before he looks away, muttering under his breath.

“Yeah,” he growls. “That’s exactly what I thought. I wasn’t about to let you break your neck, stumbling around with forty pounds of blueberries. For some reason, you’re pissed I didn’t leave you to your fate.”

God.

How can he be so grouchy after eating half his weight in bacon?

But maybe it’s a crude defense mechanism.

It’s just him and the kids here, I notice.

No wife.

Curious.

Is she just too busy girlbossing it up somewhere else or is there another reason she’s MIA?

Either way, I do notwantto give Kane Saint free rein to do whatever he wants in this house. Even if it helps me.

Especially if it helps me.

I’d take the broken bones by blueberry mishap over feeling like I owe this mananything.