Page 8 of Falling for Finn

Finn has already started eating by the time I get in line. After I fill my plate and grab some fresh squeezed orange juice, I take the seat across from him. But I might as well be sitting alone.

I look at the eggs and bacon but decide to start with the pastries. The sweet cinnamon apples and homemade bread have my taste buds screaming. I can’t help the small moan that escapes my throat.

Finn meets my eyes with a popped brow. “Those came from the bakery my mother and Aunt Paisley run.”

“Wow, he speaks,” I taunt, trying to shake myself out of the funk he put me in.

“Sometimes I do.”

“Not in my experience.” I take another bite.

He shoves a forkful of eggs into his mouth and then responds, “You talk enough for us both.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. Where I live, it’s customary to make conversation and get to know people,” I tell him as I eat the crispy bacon. It’s exactly the way I like it. The smoky flavor of the meat combined with the perfectly cooked eggs has me contemplating getting seconds. “If every meal is like this, I don’t think I’m ever leaving.”

“Don’t say that,” he states, then when I glare at him, he quickly adds, “You’d never survive the winter months.”

I’m not sure what he means by that, but I know it wasn’t a compliment. I’m tempted to throw the rest of my turnover at him. But I’d never waste something so delicious. Instead, I laugh because that’s all Icando. He still doesn’t crack a smile.

After we finish eating, I thank Willa again and let her know the food was amazing. Finn leads me out toward the bakery. When we round the building and approach the entrance, I notice the full parking lot.

“What time does it open?” I’m shocked it’s already so busy.

“Six on the dot. People start to line up around five so they can get the first round of pastries fresh out of the oven,” he explains, opening the door. The bell above rings, and Finn weaves through the crowd.

I look at all the jams, jellies, and jarred fruits. I take a few pictures of the inside and then catch up to Finn. “So you said people wait outside every day?”

“Except for Sundays when the bakery is closed.”

“Wow,” I barely get out when an older woman with bright-red hair pulls me into a hug.

“And you must be Oakley,” she sweetly says. “I’m Poppy, Finn’s mom and Willa’s daughter.”

“She doesn’t need a family tree,” Finn interjects with disapproval.

“Zip it.” She glares at him. “Anyway, it’s so nice to meet you. Let me introduce you to my twin sister.Paisley!”

So much is going on around me that it’s hard to pay attention to it all. Moments later, another woman who looks like Poppy comes out carrying a tray of individually wrapped cookies. They each have a cute logo sticker on them—apples in a barrel with their name: Bennett Orchard Farm.

“It’s so nice to meet you. Mama has told us about you and your work. Has my nephew been treating you well?” Paisley glances at Finn.

“Well, actually?—”

“I’m fulfilling my duties, as Grandma requested.”

I glance at him right as Paisley reaches over and pinches his side.

“Hey!” he screeches, and I can’t help but smirk at seeing his mom and aunt poke at him. It seems tougher for him to continue with the hard-ass act around his family.

“Be nice!” Poppy warns, wagging her finger at him like he’s five. “If my son doesn’t treat you like a queen, you let me know, and I’ll take care of him.”

I raise a brow and cross my arms. “Like a queen, huh? As in…kissing the ground I walk on and all that?”

“Not happening,” he snaps, matching my stance. “Anyway, anything else you want to see here?”

“Sweetie, don’t listen to him.” Paisley turns to me, then continues, “You don’t have to rush. Finn’s always two steps ahead of everyone. It’s okay to tell him to slow down and smell the roses.”

“I don’t like wasting time. It’s called beingefficient. Something that’s necessary when it comes to running the farm and all the businesses attached to it.”

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