Bounty Hunter (The Rover 1)

I pulled my hair from its elastic and piled it up on top of my head, then stretched my neck. Time to get to work. I shifted forward, but the doorbell rang.

I’d been fending off door-to-door salesmen for the past year. It was like they had made a pact to annoy me just because I got so worked up about them.

I’d already started a tirade when I opened the door. “The sign says no—”

Fin, beautiful Fin, in jeans and a tight gray T-shirt stood on the other side.

“Soliciting,” I finished, softly.

“Would you consider an apology solicitation?”

I shrugged, hanging off the door. “I don’t know, maybe if it’s done naked.”

“Will you invite me in?”

“Are you going to accuse me of sabotage again?”

He ducked his chin to glance at his shiny black shoes, completely out of place with his fitted denim. “No, I won’t.”

I waved my arm and pulled the door wide so he could slip inside.

Brownie points for not looking at his ass.

He surveyed every inch of my home, his eyes roving over my belongings, my life.

I struggled not to feel embarrassed by how impoverished and dirty I must seem to him.

I crossed my arms over my chest. Fuck him.

“What do you want?” I asked.

He turned his attention back to me. “I came to apologize for my behavior. I should not have accused you of duplicity. In my defense, I was still in shock about Olivia’s death.”

With his lips turned down so severely, he appeared genuinely sorry. And yet, I couldn’t say I forgave him. I rarely offered people second chances to hurt me. And Fin did it so easily, slicing right into the heart of me with a few elegant words and a hard look.

“Thanks for the apology. See you around.” I refused to look at him while I opened the door again.

If I met his gaze, I would cave, so I kept my eyes on the threadbare carpet.

“Will you consider returning?”

Shit. I needed him out of here before I agreed, the hope in my chest too big a bloom to crush now.

His fingers cupped the bottom of my chin and lifted my face to his. “Please. Let me make it up to you.”

Damn him and his stupid beautiful eyes and oh-so-kissable lips. Damn him for giving me this feeling.

“How do you plan to do that? I’m pretty mad at you.”

“Angry enough to give up the chance I’ve given you?”

I jerked my chin from his warm fingers. “That doesn’t sound like groveling. You should start there.”

He dug into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a white box wrapped with a bow and handed it to me.

I snatched it and glared while I pulled the bright orange ribbon and let it fall to the floor. Nestled into white tissue paper sat a neat little row of shortbread cookies. I snorted and couldn’t stop the smile on my face.

Part of me had thought the rich fae would bring jewelry, but it seemed he knew me better than that.