“Yes.”
I have to think about this for a second. Just who does he think he is?
Shifting in my chair and sitting up straight, I say with my most charming smile, “Let me tell you something, Captain. If your brother wants to fall on his face, you need to let him. But I can assure you, the only mistake this man would make when it comes to my best friend Iris over there is to not worship the fucking ground she walks on, and that’s the goddess’s honest truth.”
Finn goes speechless.
Maybe that was too harsh.
We simply stare each other down for a moment.
Then he says, “Noted,” arching an eyebrow and taking a swig from his coffee.
“I’m serious,” I say, doubling down.
“I can tell.”
“And if he is leading her on and breaks her heart, I will hunt down both of you.”
“I believe you.”
“Good. Because you don’t want to cross me. I used to get into plenty of fights in high school. I haven’t done anything so unseemly in many years now, but I still have it in me. I’m a hair puller.”
Finn does a spit take.
“I don’t know if you noticed,” he says, swiping coffee off his lip. “But neither Oliver nor I have all that much hair for you to pull.”
I lean in. “I’m not talking about the hairs on your head, sailor.”
Finn’s upper lip shines with a sudden bloom of sweat.
“You know, I came here to find things out, but I’m starting to think maybe you and I were meant to meet each other. I like your fire. You’re exactly the kind of person I’d like to work with,” he says.
Work with. Oh. Of course.
“I’m sure you’re a great contractor, Finn, but I don’t know you from Adam. And I’m sure even if I did, I couldn’t afford you.”
He leans forward, pinning his elbows to his knees. That flannel shirt has seen better days, all worn and soft in places. The pocket is torn to shit from attaching pens and carrying tape measures and safety glasses, if I had to guess. And his cargo pants are worn at the knee. I’ll bet he actually has cargo for those pockets. “Listen. Do you have floor plans? I’m offeringfree advice. I’d be more than happy to have a look and see what I can do for you.”
I swallow down the bubble of happiness in my chest. Surely he’s joking.
But then again, I know down deep he’s not.
Finn is not the kind of guy to mess around with his words. I bet he waits to say “I love you” until he absolutely knows it in his gut. Whoever he says that to will be the luckiest person alive.
“If you insist. But again, I have to warn you, I’ve already been laughed at by three different banks, and there’s no chance I’m going to be open by my birthday at this point.”
“When’s your birthday?”
I tell him it’s the third of May.
He shrugs one of those hard shoulders and says, “Why don’t you let me do what I do and we’ll take it from there?”
I know what he means by that. Literally, I need to let him give me his expert opinion.
But his deep, mature voice, that intense gaze, and the words coming out of his lips, “why don’t you let me take it from here,” have all conspired to make my heart rate quicken in my chest. I’m picturing this man hovering over me in bed, hooking his arm around my waist and positioning me just right, just how he wants it. He knows best.
Inside, I’m squirming.
