Which went nowhere toward explaining why he was out doing the shopping while they played.

Screwed around. Fucked. Frolicked. Whatever.

Poor him, left out in the cold on a hot summer’s day. Or afternoon, as it was. Jealousy made a poor companion.

The sun was sliding into the horizon, the light in the smal general store growing dim. He should pay attention.

Finn had left them to fortify the chosen abode, amongst other activities. He tried not to ponder those other activities.

Sadly, he sucked at it.

The place they had chosen was a detached concrete granny flat with one bedroom, one bathroom and an attempt at a kitchen.

Someone had hated granny. But, small windows and one door made it simple to lock down.

Maybe they’d spend a few days, take the time to lick their wounds.

Lick was a bad word, a word to steer clear of.

Same went for suck, which rhymed with f**k and led nowhere good at all.

He scrubbed his face with a hand, took a deep breath.

Finn grabbed a spare shirt and a few other goodies. He set off for the flat as the sun sank low and the violet of evening set in. His heavy pack aggravated his shoulder, but it was ful of the required supplies.

Moaning started in the west. Something close answered the cal . He picked up the pace, put his gun in hand. The first star twinkled overhead. Shit. Where the hell was his head at?

He had taken too long. Been careless.

He was sprinting by the time he turned onto the rutted gravel lane leading toward home. The pack bounced about on his back, which the gunshot wound did not appreciate. He hadn’t secured the pack properly, not for this. So careless.

There were noises behind him, back at the corner.

He kicked up dust as he pounded down the dirt driveway, along the side of the house and through a hastily thrown-open doorway.

Someone had been watching for him. What a feeling. Home. Safety.

The door slammed shut and the lock was thrown behind him.

Finn dropped to his knees, eased the pack off slowly. His shoulder throbbed in time with his heart.

“What the f**k were you doing?” He glanced up to find Al towering, hands on hips. Her was a flat, unhappy line. Fury radiated from her. “It’s nearly ful dark. What were you thinking?”

Finn just blinked at her, stunned.

Dan gave him a careless shrug. The big man lounged on the couch, feet crossed at the ankles. And not that Finn wouldn’t do similar should their roles be reversed, but good God, what an ass**le.

Actually, what bullshit. Finn would have tried to talk her down and assured her everything was fine, when time and again it clearly wasn’t. That was about when he realized this situation wasn’t working. Not for him.

And it if wasn’t working then it was time to fix it.

“I was worried about you. You were gone for hours. It’s dark outside, Finn. You could have been hurt. Or kil ed. Did you even think of that?” She stood taller than a tower, righteous indignation blazing in her eyes. “What the f**k were you doing that was so important it was worth risking your life for? Well?”

Normally, he would never have stuck around for shit like this, but from her … a large part of him loved it. Her going toe-to-toe with him, taking him on. She did the same with Daniel, and Finn wanted in. The fishwife tone was even worryingly endearing. Al of this, however, did not mean she was getting away with it.

“I was getting supplies, Al, just like I said I would,” he said lightly. “What’s the problem here?”

The woman slammed her lips shut and crossed her arms over her heaving br**sts. The same ones he was developing a serious fixation on. He had found her a t-shirt a size too smal , solely for the chance to magnify those babies. He’d feed her some bullshit about the lack of appropriate sizing, not much caring if she believed him. The shirt would be worn because the current one was trashed.

Some things in life were simple. But this was not.

“I thought you’d appreciate some private time with Dan. Did I get that wrong?” he continued, nice and calm, keeping everything off his face. Unlike her. Frustration poured off her in waves. There were red spots high on her cheeks. She was flammable. “What do you want?”

Her gaze fled to Daniel, her safety blanket. Of course. Finn almost groaned in frustration.

But the odds were, the man wasn’t going to interfere, not with this. After a long moment, she reached the same conclusion. Her shoulders sloped and the gray of her eyes brightened as if in disbelief.

“What do you want from me, Al?”

She watched her boot toe at the carpet, rubbing at the gnarled pile. A large part of her bravado appeared to have fled. “Finn …”

“No excuses. What do you want?”

Her gaze lifted at his harsh tone. She looked stricken. “Finn …”

He didn’t know where she was going with pleading his name, but it didn’t matter. He was done with it. “No.”

He took the irrevocable step forward till they really were toe-to-toe, cradled her face in his hands. Ignoring the flinch, the way her mouth snapped shut. “No, Al. We’re not doing this anymore.”

Finn brushed his mouth over hers, the barest whisper of contact. Not sure if she was even breathing, her body so tense. He slid his fingers down her arms, gripped her hands and placed them right where he needed them. She shut her eyes tight, and her fingers fisted in his shirt, dragging at the bandage on his shoulder.

He didn’t mind.

Their mouths were so close he could feel the warmth of her breath on his lips. He wanted to kiss her like he might die sometime soon.