Page 75 of Falling for Finn

FINN

DAY 17

Tomorrow isthe last day of the harvest festival, and Oakley has been painting her ass off, trying to finish in time. After she worked on it for a couple of hours this morning, we strolled through the pumpkin patch.

Once it got too crowded, we grabbed coffee, then left. Oakley’s deadline is looming, and all finishing touches have to be added so it can dry.

When we walk into my house, she immediately grabs her brushes and gets to work.

“Am I bothering you?” I ask, standing behind her and admiring her delicate brushstrokes.

“No, not at all. You’re the only person I don’t mind watching,” she admits, looking over her shoulder. “Grab a seat if you want. I’m just adding a few tiny details.”

“Wish I could, but I have some work to do today.”

She smiles. “I understand. You know where I’ll be.”

It’s taken us all week to clean up after the centennial celebration. The stage had to be torn down, and all the picnictables, chairs, and hay bales had to be put away. The main storage barn is a disaster, and I promised my grandfather I’d have it organized before Monday—which is tomorrow. I’ve been procrastinating, but I’m a man of my word.

When I arrive, I immediately start moving things around to make room to walk. I appreciate the task because it keeps my mind busy. Oakley’s leaving on Tuesday, something I’ve been dreading for too long. And I know there won’t be anyone who can convince her to stay, not even me.

Spending time with her this past week has been incredible, but I feel like we’ve just gotten started. When she wasn’t working, we hung out, and when she was, she’d let me watch her paint while we chatted.

I’m completely and utterly entranced by her. Even though I’m older, she’s the brilliant one who teaches me more than I could ever teach her.

We haven’t talked about what will happen when she leaves—it’s the elephant in the room that we’ve avoided. I’m not sure what I’d even say anyway.

Stay here?

Don’t get on that plane?

Sounds ridiculous.

“What’s up?” I hear a voice say from behind and nearly jump out of my skin.

“Fuck,” I cuss at my cousin Sebastian. “How about younotgive me a heart attack?”

“Too jumpy for my liking,” he says with a chuckle. “Have some more chairs for ya.”

He turns and points at his truck. Metal chairs are haphazardly stacked, and I’m uncertain how he made it here without losing some. Wouldn’t be surprised if I found a few on the side of the road.

“Great,” I deadpan. “Lend me a hand, will ya?”

Sebastian and I take several trips and set them next to the others that need to be put into the storage loft.

“So what’s been going on?” he asks.

“Nothing.”

He gives me an incredulous look. “After seeing you at dinner together, I gotta ask. Are you two hooking up?”

“None of your damn business.”

He shakes his head, chuckling.

“What?” I ask.

“It’s obvious youare. I heard Aspen begged you for a second chance and then broke up with her fiancé.”

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