Sleeping with the Enemy (An Enemies to Lovers Collection)

“I…there’s not much. I mean, I was cleaning the barn, but I have my own rotation. I’m not sure you’d know which stalls are dirty other than the obvious, but even then, it’s not always so obvious. If you want to shovel poop, which is indeed obvious enough, you’re more than welcome. And I would have asked you to feed everyone if I’m running really late, but I haven’t shown you how to do that, and everyone gets something different. Um, the garden? Weeding? Mowing the lawn? I do have a ride-on mower, but it’s ancient, and you have to start it with a screwdriver and a prayer.” I look around the house. It’s a huge mess, but I often don’t have much time for cleaning. I won’t ask Finn to do that because it’s just terrible.

“You look stressed,” he points out.

“I’m not…uh…okay, fine. I am. It’s just hard when there’s only one of me. I need to figure out a way to clone myself.”

“Or hire someone.”

“I don’t have money for that.”

“How do you pay yourself?”

I sigh and slide my phone back into my pocket when I realize I’m still holding it. “Can I let you know about that another time when I don’t need to run out the door?”

“I’m just saying there has to be a better way than running yourself into the ground. I could look at your financials for you if you want.”

“Sure. They’re in the backroom. All the filing cabinets are in my office. You’ll find it. Second door on the left. It has my laptop and whatnot set up. If you want to make a list of all the ways I suck at this while you’re at it, I will take a look when I get home. Always room for improvement, right?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Finn protests quickly.

I wouldn’t have been offended, but I can tell it is what he meant. He thinks he can come from New York, and since he runs a company that builds crazy expensive things and makes crazy amounts of money, he can pick away at my life here and prove to me how I could be doing better. I’m pretty good at reading people even though I’m more of a loner now, and Finn’s quick blush and the way he can’t look me in the eye tell me I’m not wrong.

I know I don’t have time to debate this, but it does cause me to grind my teeth, which is a habit I’m trying hard to break, so it’s extra annoying that I’m doing it right now. I stop, take a deep breath, and find something nice to say because it’s something my parents instilled in me—always be kind.

“If you could make some suggestions about budgeting so I could hire someone, I’d be grateful. I’ve gone over it a gazillion times, and I can’t see a way to make it work. I’d appreciate it if you could figure out how to save money anywhere else because it could be put to good use.” I offer all that with my back turned because I really am too nice. “Oh, and if you go outside, remember not to jump the fences. Just climb them. The world looks better when you’re not trying to stare at it through your bottom.”

I think I’ve stunned Finn because there isn’t any witty response. Either that or I just don’t hear it as I clomp my way out the door and over to my car. Anyhow, that wasn’t a parting shot. It also wasn’t the last word, and it wasn’t mean-spirited.

It was just plain old good advice.

CHAPTER 7

Finn

To say I feel more useless than nipples on a log would be an understatement. As the hours tick by, and Becki still isn’t back, I know I can’t tackle the barn. She’s right. I have no idea how to clean it properly, and I don’t want to mess with her system. I can hear the cow who licked my face—at least I assume it’s her, but it might be another one—mooing from the field. She’s probably hungry. Are the other animals hungry? It makes me feel guilty that I can’t help them. I’ve spent the days here going over my work stuff or blowing off steam at the gym in Topeka, which kills most of my time. I haven’t made an effort at all to get to know Becki or anything about the farm.

This is not what my grandfather wanted.

He wanted me to be more hands-on, I’m sure.

All I could work on while Becki was gone was what I knew, so I went through her office. The place was a mess, with papers all over the place, empty file folders, full file folders, binders, old coffee cups, half-eaten toast, wrappers, and a pair of nasty looking socks that probably need an exorcism more than they need a wash—the usual. I cleaned the place up before I started. I didn’t want to mess with Becki’s current paperwork, so I gathered everything up and moved it to the far side of the huge old post office desk. That’s what it reminded me of, at any rate.