Simple, right?
But what if like me, he’d been floating in a haze of just-fuckedness when he’d answered? What if he hadn’t really meant it?
But before my insecurities could take hold, two arms wrapped around me and Finn leaned against my back, letting out a pleased sigh. “That smells amazing, babe.”
A shiver ran through me at the pet name, and Finn placed featherlight kisses on the side of my neck, making me squirm.
“I told you to sit down. I’mbusy,” I huffed. But I was grinning as I said it.
Finn didn’t get out of the kitchen, though. Instead he found which cabinet the bowls lived in, and by the time I was draining the fettuccine, he’d found the cutlery and set the table.
I stared at the place settings, and something loosened in my chest, a tightness I hadn’t even known was there. Sure, it was just a little thing, but in the year we’d been together, Andrew hadn’t set the table once.
Finn, though? He thought I was worth the effort.
I filled the bowls, grinning stupidly the entire time, and we sat down to eat. Finn groaned appreciatively around his first bite, and my smile widened. He caught me watching him. “What?”
“Nothing,” I said. “You’re just so easily impressed.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Are you kidding? This is incredible.You’reincredible.”
My gut squirmed at the unfamiliar praise, and I shied away from it instinctively. “I’m not. I’m the most boring guy on the planet.”
He stopped with his fork halfway to his mouth, his smile fading. “Why would you say something like that?”
I bit my lip and considered lying, but hell, Finn was going to hear about my cheating ex from someone in town. It might as well be me. “My ex thought I was too dull. At least, that’s what he said when I caught him cheating on me.” I waited for the familiar rush of shame that always washed over me when I remembered finding Andrew in our bed with someone else, but it didn’t get a chance to take hold because suddenly Finn was straddling my lap and wrapping me in a tight hug.
“That guy was an idiot,” Finn said. “You’re fuckingfascinating.”
And the way he said it, I knew he believed it utterly. When he let go of me, he cupped my face in his palms and said, “Wait. Is this why you assumed that when I was flirting, I didn’t mean it?”
Was it? Had I been failing to see what was in front of me because of something my asshole ex had said?
I swallowed around the sudden lump in my throat. “Maybe?”
Finn’s brow creased for a second, and then he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to my lips and said, “Well, he was wrong. And I’m glad he ditched you, because you deservebetter.”
It took me a second to figure out what he meant, but when I did, warmth flooded me. “You’re right,” I said. “I really do. But my new boyfriend is much better. Just ask him.”
That startled a laugh out of him, and I laughed along with him, light and free andhappy, because this was real and Finn really did want to date me. I had pasta and a hot boyfriend to occupy me while I waited for the snowplow, and really, what else did I need in life?
I didn’t even care if Finn was crowned the next gingerbread king.
“I can’t believeyou got disqualified,” I said darkly. “That was somebullshit.”
I was still mad on Finn’s behalf. He’d built a whimsical triple-storied cottage that was all angles and fairy-tale architecture and painstakingly decorated to look like it had come straight from the pages of a Dr. Seuss book—and then he’d been disqualified on a technicality because at the last minute he’d added a tiny black and white ceramic cat waiting at the front door.
Finn shrugged. “That was on me. I forgot it had to be completely edible. Besides”—he nodded toward the small stage at the front of the community center where Sherri was holding her Gingerbread Competition trophy over her head with both hands and strutting across the stage like John Cena displaying a WWE belt—“I’m glad she won.”
Sherri had, against all expectations, produced a perfectly constructed gingerbread cottage, complete with clear windows and a whimsical garden with a dazzling display of flowers, all crafted from fondant. It was a giant improvement on all of herearlier efforts and had clearly been the best house on display—excluding Finn’s entry.
Wait.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “It’s almost like she had someone with professional experience teaching her. The same someone whose own entry mysteriously became ineligible.”
Finn had the good grace to look vaguely guilty. “What was I supposed to do? She told me her husband said the day she won the contest he’d take her to Vegas, and she’s always wanted to go to Vegas! Of course I was going to help.”
Finn was such a fucking sap. It was one of the things I liked best about him. I was quickly discovering that I liked pretty mucheverythingabout Finn Kelly—maybe even more than liked. Even though we’d only been dating for a week, I was falling for him hard, and from the looks I’d caught him giving me, I suspected he felt the same way.
