Page 63 of Coming Up Roses

ABI

I followFlynn onto the street and we turn towards my place.

“What did Olivia say?” I ask as I shrug into my jacket, unsure if I really want to know the answer.

Flynn thinks for a moment. “She said if we think it’s a good idea, then I should stay at your place tonight and catch a ride back out to the farm with you tomorrow.”

I stumble to a stop. Flynn takes another couple of steps before realising I’m not beside him anymore. “What does she mean by that?” She has to know what’s going on. Damn, that woman is perceptive.

Flynn just shrugs. “Said I deserved a sleep in. But if you don’t want me to stay, I can head back to Katie’s place tonight.”

Katie’s place. Because she doesn’t officially live with Dallas and Sadie yet, even though she’s there all the time. But she still has her house in town, and that’s where everyone is supposed tobe sleeping tonight before they head back to the farm early to get started on the day’s work.

I want to laugh at his innocence. “She just gave you the perfect cover story so you don’t have to leave,” I say, resuming walking.

It’s another few steps before Flynn speaks again. “If that’s okay with you,” he says.

“Of course it’s okay,” I say, turning into my street. One of the huge benefits of this town is how close everything is. I’m only two blocks from the main street. “I even have a spare bed.”

I spin and walk backwards, watching the expressions play out on Flynn’s face: relief, excitement, confusion, then devastation that makes my heart give a weird twist. I’d meant it as a joke, but based on his face, it’s looking like he took it literally.

We reach my house and Flynn follows me onto the front porch. He stares at the blue front door like it wronged him somehow.

“You know what,” he says as I rummage in my bag for my keys. “I probably should head back with the others. I have heaps of work to get through tomorrow.”

I stop trying to unlock the door as Flynn takes a step backward.

“Flynn,” I say, closing the distance between us before he can make it wider. “I was joking. I want you to stay … I want you in my bed.”

His breath catches and I reach a hand up to trace my fingertip along his eyebrow and down his cheek to drag across his bottom lip. He’s frozen, eyes locked on mine as I trail myhand lower, skimming over his Adam’s apple and down the length of his throat, inside the collar of his shirt to the dip in his collarbone. He swallows, but otherwise doesn’t move.

My hand continues to drift lower until I hook the tips of my fingers inside the waist of his jeans and tug him to me. He takes a stumbling step forward, his body colliding with mine and pushing me back.

“I’m up for this,” I say. “If you are.”

My words break the trance he’s in and he surges forward, mouth landing on mine with so much heat and force I almost collapse in a puddle on the floor. Flynn pushes me back again until my back hits the door, then he’s cupping my face with his big hands, one sliding into my hair at the nape of my neck.

He licks across my lips and I open for him, going weak as his tongue drags against mine.

One of my hands is still tucked in the waistband of his jeans, and I wrap the other around his back, my keys digging into his shoulder.

Flynn breaks the kiss and presses his forehead against mine, panting into the space between us. His gaze drops, lingering on the exceptional cleavage I get with this bra and dress combo. “We need to go inside now,” he rasps, then takes the keys from my hand.

I’m still a little dazed from that kiss, from the way his body against mine ignites me in a way I’ve never experienced before. He flicks through the different keys, picks the right one and slides it into the lock. Before I have a chance to explain to him how finicky the door is, he’s turned the key, wiggled the handle in just the right way and shoves the door with enough force toget it to open smoothly. Something I still can’t get right most days.

He holds the door open and ushers me inside.

That kiss really has slowed down my thought processes. How does Flynn have complete mastery of my complicated front door? He steps inside behind me, then flicks on the lights for the living area. He doesn’t even hesitate to reach for the light switch, which I’ve always thought was in a really weird place.

“How do you … you know my house?” I ask, the question sounding as dumb out loud as I was expecting it to.

Flynn rubs a hand across his neck, then runs it through his hair. “Yeah, just a little bit.” The heat and lust in his eyes from a moment ago has faded and now he looks sheepish, and nervous. “I want to show you something.” He turns and heads down the hall, like he knows this place inside out.

Stopping outside the hallway cupboard, where I keep my linens along with a whole array of miscellaneous stuff, he tugs the door open and steps inside, gesturing for me to slot into the tiny space between him and the doorframe.

I press into the space and his hands immediately fall to my waist, pulling me back against his front. He reaches out and traces his finger down the back of the doorframe where a list of names and dates are listed.

The one at the top reads Trent and beside it a date from decades ago. I lean forward and squint at the next one. Hunter. Eleven years ago. A few more dates with Hunter’s name beside them. Below that is a mark for Isla, the date the same as Trent’s. Right below that is another date from eleven years ago and beside that date, written in tiny flowing script is a singlename.

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