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"I can be your personal refreshment girl in the process."
"Oh yeah?" he asked, eyes getting warm. "And what does a refreshment girl wear as a uniform?"
"Oh, nothing at all. As encouraging thirst is the nature of her profession."
"I wouldn't get a fucking bit of work done if you were standing around naked," he told me, hands sinking into my ass.
"That's the whole point."
"But what about Harry and his eight-hundred children of specially trained karate crickets?" he teased.
"I guess it wouldn't kill me to renew their lease for another six months," I said, shrugging.
With that, I realized that sometimes, that darkness in Finn's eyes could be wiped away with some naked fun times. Which was what we did in that kitchen when he leaned me over the sink and took me from behind.
It was two days after that when Finn decided he was tired of washing the same clothes over and over again, and wanted to go home to get some new stuff. Though, to be honest, I was pretty sure he wanted to do a quick clean after being gone for so long.
I was not a needy woman.
I liked having alone time.
I didn't begrudge someone else wanting some as well.
It had nothing to do with clingy.
And everything to do with being a nosy bitch.
"Hey, Finn," I said, sitting on the bed while Finn packed up his things. I was going for casual, not leading.
"Yeah?"
"What kind of house does a man like you have?"
"A man like me?"
"Oh, a ruggedly handsome, bachelor guy with a cleaning kink."
"Bachelor?" he asked, turning to look at me, a question in his eyes, one that made my belly flip-flop. Because I knew him well enough at this point to know what he wasn't saying. I thought we were together. We hadn't had an official talk about our... officialness. Everything had been implied until now.
"Well, bachelor when you were last inside of it," I said, watching as a small smile tugged at his lips. "What might that look like?"
"Hey, Poppy," he called.
"Yeah?"
"If you want to come, just say so," he said, shrugging.
"Okay, I want to come," I declared.
"Okay," he said. "I'm ready when you are," he said, grabbing his bag. "How does Yogurt do when alone for more than a couple minutes?" he asked as we passed her in the living room.
"I haven't left her for long, but I think she will mostly sleep," I said, going into the cabinet to grab her a treat to assuage my guilt for leaving her. "I want to get a nanny cam to watch her," I admitted as we made our way outside. "I know that is a bit over-the-top, but on nights like when I have to go to the Murder Mystery events, I'd like to be able to check in on her. If she looks super anxious, I could ask my mom to check in on her or something. I will have to ask Tom Hiddleston to order me one."
"You naming of your robot assistant is odd," he told me, shaking his head.
"Hey, when the machines rise up, they will remember that I treated them like human beings."
"You force them to call you a ravishing creature," he reminded me, tossing his bag into his truck.
"As if they wouldn't call me that on their own," I said, putting a hand dramatically under my chin like a print model. "I am going to take my car in case you want to hang back longer," I told him. "That way, you don't have to rush, but I can get home to Yogurt to let her out."
"Sounds good," he agreed, getting in his truck.
Finn lived only a few minutes away from me, down a quiet backroad, in a neighborhood that boasted larger-than-usual-sized properties.
Finn's house was a ranch with white siding, a penny brick front porch, and a detached garage. The lawn was neatly trimmed, but there was no ornamental landscaping, save for a couple of boxwoods and a giant holly bush near the side of the house. The backyard was dominated by established shade trees that likely made it the perfect place for backyard barbecues in the summer. Not that Finn seemed like the hosting type, but it seemed like a missed opportunity to me.
"Through here," Finn said, leading me into the side of the house.
I expected it to be neat.
And I got neat.
In fact, it looked like a house in a real estate listing instead of somewhere people lived and kicked off their shoes and left dishes in the sink to "soak."
But what I hadn't expected was style.
Because, well, you know how it usually is for single guys. No paint on the walls, no curtains on the windows, no headboard, no extra towels or extra pillows, and certainly nothing resembling an actual design scheme.
Finn had a design scheme!
The man had sat down and planned out his house. He'd picked swatches and found complimentary furniture. The man had found art to hang on the walls. And not just the kind of stuff you see mass-produced on the shelf at a box store.
