Page 93 of Better Luck Next Time

“Hop if you need to communicate without words,” Dyed Hair shouted, as if she feared she hadn’t been heard the first time.

“This is most definitely not a kidnapping,” Adalia said. “And you all are kind of ruining our weird sex thing.”

Finn bit his lip, trying to hold back laughter.

“I knew it was a sex thing!” Dyed Hair said, but she hung back, no longer looking like she was going to barrel into him. Finn had a feeling she was staying behind them on the trail because she intended to watch Adalia’s feet the whole way.

CrossFit stared at Adalia with new appreciation, as if the knowledge that she wasn’t in mortal peril freed him to view her as a sex object.

“Move along,” Finn said, his tone hard.

CrossFit shot him another dirty look, but he rejoined his family reunion or whatever he had going on and kept walking. Good riddance.

Adalia had a huge grin on her face. “Was that part of the plan?” she asked as they resumed walking. “Because if so, well done.”

“No, there are some things in life too perfect to be planned.”

Like stumbling into Dottie’s art studio and seeing Adalia, really seeing her, for the first time.

Would this have ever happened if that hadn’t? He’d like to think they would have connected anyway, but who knew. There was a bit of magic to falling in love, it turned out.

The thought caught him off guard. Was he in love with Adalia? It was too soon, wasn’t it?

They reached the end of the path, and he led her across the street and through yet another gate. The house stood before them in all its enormity and grandeur.

“Are we here?” she asked, her voice a little hoarse.

“We’re here.” And he reached into her mass of curls and gently loosened the blindfold, pulling it away.

She gasped, taking in the enormous stone mansion, which looked like it belonged in another era. That was what he’d always thought about the Biltmore Estate, that it was a place out of time. For a moment, she just looked at it, soaking it in. Then she turned to him with tears in her eyes.

“You brought me to Pemberley.”

And in that moment he knew, with certainty, that he loved her.

Chapter Thirty-One

Adalia wrapped her arms around Finn’s neck and kissed him. Perhaps she should have known there was an enormous mansion sitting on the edge of Asheville, as if airlifted from Regency England, but she hadn’t. She’d spent the last months in a cave, letting time go by without making anything of it. But she was making something of it now, and she didn’t intend to stop.

Finn cupped the back of her head, kissing her softly,adoringly, as if he were marveling that he could. When had a man ever made her feel like this? Like she was someone special?

He pulled back slightly. “I considered suggesting we dress in nineteenth-century outfits so we could pretend we work here, but one, I suspected it would have given away the surprise, and two, a lot of people would probably have tried to ask us questions. I know we’d have fun coming up with ridiculous answers, but I kind of want you to myself today.”

“We’ll do it next time,” she said, grinning from ear to ear as she pulled back and lifted a hand to his face. “Okay?”

He smiled back, his eyes alight with happiness. She could tell he was pleased he’d surprised her, that she hadn’t known. “Deal.”

She kissed him again, so full of joy it felt like it needed to bubble over.

Tomorrow. It could bubble over tomorrow in the studio. She couldn’t wait to see what form it took. If the paintings that had come out of a place of rage and sadness had been good, what would her work look like now?

A thin sliver of fear poked at her. Would her feelings for Finn make her work better…or had adversity actually made her a better artist?

Stop sabotaging yourself, said a voice in her head, one that sounded like her mother.Let yourself be happy.

“The sad part,” Finn said in a grave tone, even though his eyes still twinkled, “is that we now have to wait in line for half an hour before we can go in.” He nodded his head toward the line of people waiting in front of the entrance.

Pulling back, Adalia crooked her arm, offering it to him, then said in a British accent, “We should proceed to the queue without delay, should we not, Mr. Hamilton?”

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