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The next thing she knew, she heard Finn’s voice coming from the living room.
Anne opened her eyes. She must have fallen asleep. The simple alarm clock she kept by the bed as a plan B for when she hit snooze on her phone’s alarm showed that it was nine p.m.
“See? Told you it wouldn’t be so bad. Keep a few Reese’s Pieces for me.” Finn’s voice reached her.
“I’ll try to remember that it’s Kylie’s favorite, too,” he said just as she entered the living room, dressed in his shirt. She could get used to this sight. Finn, shirtless, with only a pair of dark blue briefs, sitting on the sofa’s armrest and extending his arm to her.
She stopped next to him, and he wrapped it around her waist.
“Good night, Dad,” she heard Max say from the other end of the line.
Her heart sped up. He was over at Avery’s, and that was only a mile and a half from them. Despite everything they said, she still felt like a cheater, like she was stealing his father from him.
“Good night, kiddo,” Finn said. He shut the call, put the phone down on the sofa behind him, and wrapped his other arm around her. He pressed his face to her abdomen, pressed a kiss to it, then rested his chin against it and looked up at her.
She pivoted and sat in his lap, wrapping an arm around his neck.
“I think Max is in love.” He kissed her neck. “Like father, like son.”
“With whom?”
“With you,” he whispered against her skin.
She laughed. “No, I meant Max.”
“I know.” Finn shifted and looked at her. He was grinning. “A girl named Kylie. She’s his best friend’s older sister.”
“Oh.”
“The friend doesn’t know. Good thing they’re only twelve.” He then buried his face in her neck again and just breathed her in.
She inhaled him, too. Reality was fast infiltrating their shabby little bubble in all sorts of forms and reminders.
“Hungry?” she asked.
Finn caught her face and kissed her. “Yeah.”
“Hmm ... You taste like—”
“Pumpkin cupcake?” he mumbled against her lips. “Found the box in the kitchen and ate one. I hope it’s okay.”
“Of course it is.” She chuckled.
In the kitchen, the coffee maker was warm, and two mugs awaited them next to two plates, one carrying a half-eaten pumpkin cupcake.
“Yeah, I might have eaten more than one while I was making coffee,” Finn said.
She laughed. Coffee at nine p.m. She didn’t mind it if it meant Finn.
They drank it, leaning their backs against the counter, side by side. She nibbled on a cupcake while Finn finished his second.
“It’s good,” he said, putting his plate down. “The bakery, you came back for your parents?”
“Mostly, yes. They needed help, and the cake line is doing well. I even designed the same complex cake for two different weddings of the same person.”
“Who’s that?”
“Cake decorator/bride confidentiality. I can’t tell you.”
