‘There are my friends!’ Clint called from the porch of his farmhouse, leaning on a beam just next to the steps. ‘And Stark.’
‘You think you’re offending me, but you’re really not,’ Tony sniffed disdainfully as he looked at his Porsche that was now extremely dusty from the forty mile drive on dirt road.
Lowering his sunglasses briefly to examine the damage better, he pushed them back on his nose before leaning back to take in Clint’s home with his usual over-exaggerated movements.
‘The less association I have with you and this disaster you call a house, the better for my reputation.’
‘I wouldn’t worry too much,’ Natasha slung a canvas bag over her shoulder, brushing past the billionaire. ‘The boat on your good reputation has long sailed.’
He waggled his eyebrows at her. ‘Who says I was referring to my
She was tempted to punch him in the shoulder, but Bruce was close by, grabbing his duffel bag out of the trunk of the Porsche, so she decided not to.
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