Page 28 of Falling for Finn

“Don’t hang out with her,” Finn tells me once we’re seated with our coffee and food.

“Why not? She seems cool. Sebastian too. Don’t see the family resemblance, though. They have…what’s it called…apersonality?”

He shoots daggers at me as I grin.

“I assume they work on the farm too?” I ask, trying to make conversation as we eat.

“Yes, they do. They’re my aunt Paisley’s kids. Jessa handles most of the PR, marketing, and social media stuff for the orchard. Sebastian deals with the wholesalers and distributors we sell the fruit to.”

“Sounds like you got stuck with the dirty jobs.”

“I prefer it. I’d never want to work in an office or be forced to deal with strangers on the phone.”

“You don’t like talking to people? I’m shocked,” I taunt.

“You love getting on my nerves, don’t you?” He stabs his sausage link and pops it into his mouth.

“You’re the one walking around with a stick up your ass. Should pull it out so it’s not so easy to rile you up.”

“I’m tempted to let Jessa and Sebastian deal with you for the rest of the week.”

“You’re lying. I know you love talking about the farm and taking me around. Plus, I doubt Jessa or Sebastian would be as good a snuggle partner as you.” I grin, then take a sip of my coffee.

“You’re the one who scoots to my side of the bed. Maybe if you slept on the couch, like you’re supposed to, it wouldn’t be an issue.”

“Oh,sorry. Should we make a pillow wall so there are no more”—I lower my eyes to insinuate his morning wood—“issues?” I muse, noticing the blood vessel on the side of his neck is about to burst.

He scrubs a hand over his cheek, fuming silently as his jaw ticks. “Let’s go.”

Finn stands, taking his half-filled plate, and I quickly follow, setting our dishes in the tub.

As we go to his truck, he doesn’t take my hand or open my door. I don’t bother to ask where we’re going next, so I silently look out the window as he drives.

He turns down a road I haven’t seen yet, and I take more pictures. The colorful leaves are breathtaking, and I can’t believe I’m here at the perfect time of year to witness their beauty.

“Wow…it’s gorgeous,” I say as he throws the truck into 4-wheel drive, and we climb higher up the hill.

“It’s where I planned to propose,” he says quietly, almost as if he hadn’t wanted me to hear. I don’t bother responding, but he continues anyway. “I even looked at rings.”

“How long were you together?” I ask.

“Over five years.”

“Was she your first long-term girlfriend?”

“No, I dated someone in high school, and we stayed together a few years while she went to college. Long distance didn’t work out.”

“So no disrespect, but if you’ve had previous relationships before, why did this last one make you so jaded?” I ask, turning to look at him.

He keeps his eyes on the road. “She was the first person I ever imagined a future with. I thought we wanted the same things.”

“Here’s a hard truth for you.” I clear my throat, hoping he won’t reach across the truck and strangle me. “She wanted those things. Clearly, she got engaged not long after you broke up. But not with you.”

His jaw clenches as if he’s holding back a scream, but I quickly add, “And I know that’s harsh, but isn’t it better to know before you proposed? Better to find out before you investednot only your heart but also your money into something she wouldn’t have given her whole self to?”

“You talk like you’ve experienced a lot of breakups. How’s that possible at your age?” he asks with sincerity.

“Just because I’m young doesn’t mean I’m stupid. In fact, I was at the top of my classes from elementary through grad school. That’s not to brag. It’s a fact. Creatively brilliant but not always people smart. Did you know that was a thing? Well, anyway, I don’t have to personally experience heartbreak to sympathize with how it must’ve felt for you.” I breathe out slowly. “And FYI, I’ve had some relationships end badly. Notclose to settling downtype of breakups, but they still hurt.”

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