Page 7 of Falling for Finn

Spinning around to face her, I shrug. “Did you expect me to stay and read you a bedtime story?”

She crosses her arms. “It’d be the most I’ve heard you talk all day.”

I ignore what she says. “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover tomorrow, so don’t keep me waiting in the morning. Six o’clock comes quickly.”

Oakley places her hand on her hip, her bracelets clinking as they slide down her arm. “Getting up that early isn’t my vibe, and I don’t like being rushed.”

“And I don’t like being late or behind. Not all of us are on vacation for ten days.”

“Vacation? This isfarfrom that.” She shoots me a death glare as if I’ve offended her. Without waiting for a response, Oakley walks inside and slams the door.

I’m not here to entertain Miss Sunshine, and she needs to know if she’s following me around, I’m sticking to my schedule. There needs to be boundaries between us, and they need to stay strictly professional. It wasn’t lost on me how she eye-fucked me at the airport. Smart and confident women are my kryptonite, and Oakley Benson is no exception.

CHAPTER THREE

OAKLEY

DAY 2

A hard poundingon the door jolts me awake. I look around, noticing it’s still dark outside, then check the time—6:00 a.m.

“I’m coming!” I shout as the pounding grows louder. Stumbling, I trip over my duffel bag on the way to the door. I crack it open to see Finn glaring at me.

“What are you wearing?” he asks, and I notice his eyes slide down my body. I’m wearing nothing but a T-shirt and panties.

“I think it’s calledclothes,” I snap, followed by a yawn. It’s brisk outside, and I shiver. These cool temperatures aren’t something I’m used to.

“Meet me in the truck in five minutes, or you’re walking.” He turns around and storms off.

“That’s not enough time to get dressed!”

“Shoulda set your alarm.” His boots crunch on the gravel as he escapes into the darkness. Seconds later, he crosses the headlights of the truck, and the metal door slams.

“God, Ihatehim,” I seethe as I turn on the lights, then rush toward my suitcase. I haul it on the bed and rustle through my clothes.

I was so damn exhausted after I settled in last night that I forgot to set my alarm. But he could give me a break, knowing I haven’t adjusted to the time difference. Jet lag is going to kick my ass today.

After I use the bathroom and pin my hair out of my face, I brush my teeth. My body is sore, and if I weren’t on a job, I’d crawl in bed and sleep another twelve hours.

The mornings are usually my oasis. I like to wake up quietly with Mother Nature. Most times, I meditate or stretch while brewing some tea, and then I spend an hour planning the rest of my day.

My thoughts are in complete chaos when I hear him laying on the horn.

I throw on a hoodie and some leggings, then slip on my sandals. After I shove my phone in my pocket, I grab my sketch pad and pencils. I’m annoyed and hungry, but mostly I wish I didn’t have to depend onMr. Big Grumpy Jerkto take me everywhere.

When I slide into the truck and buckle up, he roughly shifts into drive and speeds off. I’m going to need a mountain of caffeine to get through today.

The headlights lead the way, and low rolling fog billows along the road. I close my eyes and lean my head back, wishing for five more minutes of sleep.

“We’re here,” he mutters, killing the engine. I blink open my eyes, and he’s already hopping out. The jerk doesn’t even wait for me, and I have to rush after him as he enters the inn.

The smell of bacon, fresh-baked bread, and roasting coffee fills the place. We move toward the kitchen, where silver trays of perfectly folded turnovers rest on the counter.

“Good morning,” Willa singsongs, gently placing her hand on my back. “How’d you sleep?”

“Great,” I admit, although it took a while for me to settle down and fall asleep. I don’t mention that I tossed and turned for a couple of hours before drifting off or that the bed was too soft. I’m appreciative of the accommodations, and I’ll never state otherwise.

“Help yourself to some breakfast but make sure to pick up one of our famous apple turnovers. The fruit came from the farm.” She winks, and her chipper attitude isalmostcontagious.

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