Page 37 of Perfect Pact

Dusty stares at me like I’m stupid.

“Don’t worry. I followedyourrules and walked each one from the road to the barn.”

“You did?”

“Yup.” I nod once.

“If those goats shit on my—”

“I used a leash—crapping was controlled,” I cut in, not really wanting to hear him bitch about his grass or whatever.

“I can’t believe you. Why even get the goats when you have so much you still have to do to the barn?”

He has a point. Caring for any animal is a huge responsibility, but I figured I was killing two birds with one stone. I eventually needed the goats for the petting zoo—andI needed my grass cut. Seemed like the logical solution.

“Like I said, tractor issues. What do goats eat?”

“Grass,” we say in unison.

“I could’ve taken a look at your tractor, saved you some money.”

Right.

“A city boy like you?”

His offended face is even better than his angry face.

“Where do you think I’m from?”

“Twenty hours away somewhere.”

“A small town outside Saint Louis, Missouri. I have toys. Lots of them.”

“I don’t know what a sex swing has to do with this.” I cover my mouth with my fist, trying to fight back the laughter.

“Why does your mindalwaysgo there?”

“Uh…it doesn’t.”

“It just did.”

Palm to the face. He’s not wrong.

“Are you two holding our breakfast hostage?” Grayson, the fire chief, hollers out the front door. “My guys are kind of hungry.”

“Sorry, man.” Dusty meets Grayson halfway and hands over what I’m assuming is four boxes of my favorite treats.

“Thanks for this.” Grayson waves before heading back into the station.

Dusty jogs out to where I was about to make a clean getaway.

“Seriously, though. I could have helped. It’s what I do.”

What he does?

“Pretty surewhat you dois the opposite.” Now that he mentions it, I don’t think I ever asked him what he does for a living. I know he had money before he inherited millions, but how he got it? No clue.

“I guess I just thought you did something with real estate or land surveying—you know, since you know so much about easements.”