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Especially when she lifted her head and looked up at the skylight in the ceiling he’d had put in so he and Sheri could look at the stars at night.
“That’s so cool,” Beth exclaimed with delight. “Do you stargaze in bed?”
Tension crawled through him, along with the intense urge to change the subject and walk away.
But if you’re thinking about marriage, you’re going to have to get used to her being in the same place Sheri was. You’re going to have to get used to her liking the same things too.
That was true. Because what other option did he have? He’d built this house himself, along with help from Chase, Levi, and some of the Brightwater locals, and he couldn’t see himself moving out of it permanently.
Plus it was also the place he’d lived with Sheri, and although the memories here were painful, they were also comforting.
He didn’t want to leave. But if Beth agreed to be his wife, this was where she’d live too, and this was where she’d sleep. With him. Potentially in this bed. Watching the same stars he used to watch with Sheri…
Finn was conscious of Beth studying him, a slight crease between her fair brows.
“Are you okay?” she asked quietly.
“I’m fine.” His tone was brusque but he couldn’t seem to moderate it. “Let’s go downstairs. There’s something else I want to show you.”
He didn’t wait for her to respond, simply turning and heading back down the stairs and going back into the living room. Pausing beside one of the long glass sliding doors, he unlocked it and pushed it back, stepping outside onto the deck. Then he went down the steps that led to a small, white-shell path.
The path led not only to the bath that stood on the edge of the flat garden, but also to a tiny wooden cabin built into the side of the hill nearby. He could hear Beth’s footsteps crunching on the shells behind him, so he didn’t pause as he went up to the door of the cabin and opened it.
This was always going to be the real test, showing her Sheri’s shed, where she used to paint and do the other arty things she’d loved. It had always surprised him how such a practical woman had such an artistic bent, but that had been one of the things he’d loved about her. There had been so much more to her than met the eye.
Initially he’d planned on setting aside some of his own workbench in the garage near the house for Beth and her jewelry making—because he had to give her a place she could work—but he’d known it wasn’t going to compare to Clint’s. The little art cabin, though, was perfect. It had a wide bench and lots of built-in cupboards, cubbyholes, and shelves. And it faced the view, with large windows for inspiration purposes.
Sheri had loved it out there, and instinctively he knew Beth would love it too. And he didn’t want to show it to her—he really didn’t. It was Sheri’s place, not hers. But this reluctance wasn’t going to help when it came to getting what he wanted. Which was her marrying him and creating a family for their child.
There wasn’t much room in the cabin, since the storage and the big built-in desk took up all the space. So Beth remained in the doorway, gazing around at it. Then she looked at him and this time she didn’t smile.
“This is gorgeous,” she said. “But I get the sense you don’t want me to be here, do you?”
“Of course I do.” Again, he sounded far too brusque, which irritated him. He was supposed to be encouraging her to be here, not actively trying to scare her away. “This is where I thought you could set up your jewelry workshop.”
She glanced around again, and he could tell she liked it, because her mouth softened. “This wasn’t yours though, was it?”
Such a loaded question and asked so gently. Yet he could feel all his barriers come up hard, the desire to keep his memories, to keep Sheri, all to himself. He didn’t want to talk about her here, in this place she’d loved so much, a place that was hers and not for anyone else. Even he had to knock before he was allowed to come in.
Somehow, though, Beth knew, because she said quietly, “I don’t have to be in here. I can set up my bench somewhere else.”
Part of him was glad she hadn’t explicitly mentioned Sheri, while another part was annoyed, hating how she pussyfooted around the topic, as if she didn’t want to upset him.
Shit, he wasn’t that fragile. Grief had done a number on him, sure, but it had been five years. The worst of it had passed. And bloody hell, he had to move on somehow. He was having a child, for God’s sake.
“This was Sheri’s art space,” he said flatly, bringing up the topic so she didn’t have to. “She used to paint and do other craft-type things in here, which is why there’s so much storage. It’s got a big desk though and lots of light. And it hasn’t been used for years. You can put your jewelry stuff in here. It’s a great space for it.”
But Beth didn’t look at the desk or the shelves around it. She only looked at him, and the sympathy in her eyes made something inside him throb.
She was so pretty, standing in the doorway with the sun at her back shining in her pale hair and making her green eyes glow. The dress she wore clung to her figure, outlining every single curve. She was sunshine, every part of her, and he wanted to reach out and grab her, cover himself with her warmth.
He was so tired of being cold.
Yet his heart hurt, and he’d thought he’d be fine with her being here, but he wasn’t. And he didn’t know what to do about it except get out of here before he said something he regretted.
“Finn,” she began.
But all he said was “Have a think about it.”
