Page 91 of Falling for Her

“Oh.” I know now where this is going, and my heart sinks all the way to my feet. “So⁠—”

“So I won’t need you anymore.” The words I thought I wanted to hear a week ago now feel like they have sliced my heart in two. Actually, more than two. It feels shattered.

“I—” I start to say, and then stop when he puts his hand on my hip, and all my words are gone with his touch.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly.

“Hey.” I take a step closer to him. “I have to get back home anyway.” The meaning of the word hits so differently now.

“We still have one week.”

I look out the window toward the tree house, knowing I’m going to miss this more than I can put into words. “We have one week,” I agree, looking up at him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me”—I move away from him to the fridge and pull out my box—“I’m going to go sit in bed and eat my cake.”

“Um . . .” I grab a fork out of the drawer. “I told Asa I’m going to make dinner.”

“Yes, but”—I point my fork at him—“I’m allowed to do what I want.”

I start toward the door. “Save some of that cake,” he commands. “I’m going to want to eat it off of you later.” I can’t help but smirk. “I’ll call you when dinner is ready.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

LINCOLN

I walk out of the bathroom, naked, and take in Finley sitting in my bed. Her hair is tousled from my hands. The sheet is tucked around her front, her leg sticking out, curled on top of it.

“Are you going to go and check on Asa?” she whispers to me, and I shake my head.

We had dinner together, and she left for her place. I waited a full forty-five minutes after Asa was asleep to go to her door. She answered, and all I did was slip my hand in hers and pull her toward the house. She only stopped me to go back and get the cake before following me to my bedroom.

“He’s been a deep sleeper since he was born,” I tell her. “The house could fall down, and he’ll barely stir.”

“I don’t know,” she teases, reaching for the box of cake on her nightstand, “you did get loud there at the end.”

I slide into bed beside her. “I had to cover your moan with my mouth,” I remind her as I put the pillows up against the headboard. “So was I the one who was loud, or were you the one who was loud?”

She laughs. “Okay, I’m going to have some cake, and then I’m going to go back to my bed.”

“No, you aren’t. You’re staying here.”

“But what if he wakes up in the night and wants to come sleep with you?”

“Then you hide in the bathroom and go out through the laundry room.” I put my arm around her hips.

Her mouth opens. “Did you build it that way on purpose?”

I chuckle as she opens the top of the box. “I wish I was that clever. We gutted the house when I took it over.”

“Wait, you lived in this house?” She looks at me, fork in hand.

“Grew up in this house.” Her face shines with amazement. “My sister and I inherited the house when my dad passed away and then rented it out. But then, when Maggie and I got divorced, I bought out her half.”

“That”—she looks down at the cake and then back at me—“is so fucking special that you can have Asa grow up in the same house you did.” Her voice is soft. “I don’t even know the address of the house I lived in when I was younger.”

“Why?” I ask her as she holds a bite of cake out for me. I lean forward, taking it, and my eyebrows shoot up. “This is actually really good.” I point to my mouth.

“I know, right?” She takes her own bite. “And I made it. That, in itself, is a miracle.”

“So where did you grow up?” I want to know more about her, even though I know I shouldn’t go there. I’m already more involved than I care to admit.