The air crackled between them, and there was no doubt she felt it too. Not with how her lips parted, her breaths coming quick and shallow. Under the guise of grabbing her blazer, she dropped her gaze and draped the fabric over her arm. “Not yet. Hopefully Mac saved me some of whatever she made for dinner tonight.”
“And if she didn’t?”
She shrugged. “Then I guess it’s microwave popcorn to the rescue.”
The thought of her surviving on microwave popcorn after all she’d done today didn’t sit well with him. Not at all. “Or you could come up to my place and I could whip up a couple of your favorites.”
He could see the war going on behind her eyes, could see how much she was fighting with herself over her answer. He’d be damned if he made it easy for her to say no. “And, yes, I still remember the recipe—thin sliced bananas stacked on a generous portion of peanut butter with a drizzle of honey. And it just so happens I picked up a fresh loaf of bread today at the store.”
She heaved out a sigh, shifting from foot to foot as if the pain had finally begun to register. “I have peanut butter and bread at home, Finn.”
“I’m sure you do. But you don’t have a Finn at home to make it for you.” He reached out and slipped her jacket from her arm before draping it over his own. “Come on, Willowtree. After the day you had, let me make you a sandwich.”
Glancing across the square to their new building, she bit her lip. “But Drew—”
“Is out with Nola. He’ll be gone for hours.”
“I don’t know…”
“It’s just a sandwich.” The look she gave him said he wasn’t pulling off that lie. It wasn’tjusta sandwich, and they both knew. “Okay, it’s just a sandwich if that’s all you want it to be.”
She stared at him for the longest minute of his life until finally she dipped her chin in acquiescence. He couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across his face, so fucking thankful he was making progress with her. He didn’t know if it was because she was too tired to argue, if the thought of trekking home was too much to take, or if it was him…them. Honestly, he didn’t care as long as it bought him more time with her.
He put his back to her and bent into a crouch. “Hop on.” Glancing back in time to see her horrified expression, he laughed. “Hurry up, I wanna get you fed.”
“I am not getting on your back, Finn. For one thing, I’m in a skirt. For another, I’m not twelve.”
He raised an eyebrow as he stared at her over his shoulder. “Pretty sure we used to do this when you were eighteen, not twelve.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not eighteen, either.”
“No, you’re not. But what you are is tired.” He stood and tossed her jacket over his shoulder, then bent and scooped her right off the ground and into his arms.
Willow gasped, her hand flying to the back of his neck to hold on. “Griffin Reilly, you put me down right this second!”
“What the hell is with everyone middle-naming me lately?” he asked as he took off toward his building. He tried not to think about how amazing she felt, how even after all this time, she still fit him like they were meant to join together. Like they were pieces of the same puzzle. And puzzle pieces, no matter how long had passed since they’d been put together, still linked seamlessly.
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t act like a Neanderthal and you wouldn’t get middle-named.”
“How is me wanting to save you from how much pain you’re in being a Neanderthal?”
By degrees, she began relaxing in his arms the closer he got to his building until she was nearly boneless, her fingers tracing small, subtle patterns on the back of his neck. He wasn’t even sure she was aware she was doing it, but he was. And his cockdefinitelywas.
“Who said anything about being in pain?”
“Don’t insult me, Willowtree. Even though it’s been a while, I still know you better than most. And I know those two lines between your brows mean you’re in some kind of pain. With how you were shifting on your feet, I assumed it was those god-awful—but really damn hot—shoes.”
She lifted one leg and glanced down at her red heels with a sigh. “They’re my favorite, but they certainly aren’t conducive to ten hours of manual labor.”
“Why didn’t you go home and change?” He shifted her enough to open the front door, then strode toward the back stairs.
“Honestly, Finn, I can walk.” She clamped her mouth shut at the look he shot her. “And I didn’t go home and change because you know Daddy. No sense in giving him any more ammunition than he already has.”
Ammunition, his ass. Anyone else in Willow’s job wouldn’t have been able to pull off half of what she had. He was absolutely certain of it. He had to clench his teeth and force himself not to say anything about what, exactly, he thought of her asshole daddy. Finn wasn’t going to open that can of worms, not now that he actually had Willow in his arms. Now that she was talking to him and not biting his head off.
Once inside his apartment, he strode straight to the couch and sat down with her in his lap.
“What—” Before she could finish her question, he slipped off her shoes, then pressed his thumb into the arch of one foot, rubbing in soft circles as he kneaded the tension away. “Oh Lord…” The words left her on a sigh. She tilted her head back, her eyes fluttering closed as she let out a moan.
