“I did,” he smiled, the warmth in his voice making my heart skip.
“Well,”Móraíinterrupted, “it’s always good when a man has excellent taste in women.”
The conversation moved on to safer topics, summer operations, guest stories, plans for Dom and Enzo’s wedding. But I found myself sneaking glances at Finn throughout dinner, curious about what else he’d told them about me.
Maggie shifted slightly, her warm weight settling more firmly against my legs as I listened to Belle explain her latest art project, Bridget and Elowyn discussing plans for the North Star RanchAnnual July Fourth celebration, and Jack trying to convince Lucas that he could totally eat three pieces of pie.
Dinner wound down naturally as the kids started yawning and Bridget began clearing plates. Belle tried to negotiate staying up later to show me her paintings, but Elowyn redirected her with a reminder that guests needed settling-in time.
“Thank you for dinner,” I stood to help carry dishes before Bridget waved me off.
“You’re a guest tonight,” she insisted, stacking dinnerware. “Tomorrow you can help if you want, but tonight you relax.”
“She means it,” Finn grinned beside me. “Fightin’ Mom on hospitality rules is a losing battle.”
We said our goodnights to the family, Móraí squeezing my hand and telling me she was glad I’d come, the kids extracting promises to see more of me tomorrow before they were herded upstairs by their parents. Even Maggie seemed reluctant to let us leave, following us to the front door before Nolan called her back.
The evening air felt cool against my skin as we walked back toward the lodge, crickets singing in the grass around us, the Tetons rising like dark silhouettes against a sky scattered with more stars than I’d seen in a long time. Finn’s fingers slipped between mine, our hands swinging gently between us as we crossed toward the lodge.
“That went well,” I beamed.
“They like you already,” Finn glanced at me with a soft smile. “Belle’s probably planning to corner you tomorrow morning with her entire portfolio.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” And I was, excited about encouraging a thirteen-year-old’s creative passion. “Your family is wonderful, Finn. Really wonderful.”
“Even when Lucas announced to everyone that I think you’re pretty?”
I laughed, heat creeping up my neck. “Especially then.”
The lodge felt quiet around us as we climbed the stairs to our room, other guests either settled for the evening or enjoying the fire pits dotted around the lodge. Finn unlocked our door and stepped aside to let me enter first, the room feeling more intimate in the lamplight than it had during the afternoon.
I moved to the window, looking out at the lights twinkling in the distance. Behind me, I heard Finn closing the door, followed by the soft sounds of him moving around the room. When I turned he was sitting on the edge of the bed closest to the window, watching me.
“So…” I began, suddenly aware of the two beds, the choice we’d talked about earlier, the fact that we were officially real now instead of just pretending. “About the sleeping arrangements.”
“Your choice,” he shrugged, echoing what he’d said earlier. “Every night.”
“What if I choose you?” I moved closer to where he sat.
“Then you choose me,” he smiled.
I stepped between his knees, my hands settling on his shoulders, feeling the solid warmth of him through his shirt. “And what if I choose you every night we’re here?”
His hands came up to rest on my waist, thumbs brushing gentle circles against my sides. “Then I’d be the luckiest man in Wyoming.”
“Just Wyoming?” I teased, leaning closer.
“The whole damn country,” he murmured, and then he was kissing me, soft and sweet and unhurried, like we had all the time in the world to figure out how this worked between us.
I slipped my arms around his neck as the kiss deepened, pulling gently at the hair at his nape as I tasted the remnants of dessert and something essentially Finn underneath. His hands mapped the curve of my back before sliding down over my backside.
When we finally broke apart, both breathing harder, I rested my forehead against his.
“I’m still mad at you,” I whispered against his lips.
“For what?” his voice was rough.
“Annapolis. Aerospace engineering. Just casually being a genius and never mentioning it.”
