Page 110 of A Hard Fit

Finn sank into the hug. He’d forgotten how good it felt to have his big sister’s arms around him.

Then Bryson appeared in the doorway. “I want to be an artist when I grow up, Mom!”

Liz smiled at her son. “Do you?”

He skipped over to take her hand. “Yeah! Uncle Finn hanged up my art, come see!”

* * * *

They waved at Liz’s car until it rounded the corner, then Finn hooked a finger into Rory’s belt with a mischievous eyebrow quirk. “What time is Bailey’s party?”

“Oh,” Rory replied, eyes darkening. “Not. For.Hours.”

“Then,” Finn said, tugging Rory close and breathing them in, “I believe I made a promise.”

Later, naked and cozy under the covers, the topic of their engagement came up again. Finn kissed Rory’s forehead and wiggled right in close so his words rippled over their neck. “So, what should I call you?”

“What do you mean?” Rory asked, lacing their fingers together.

“Do you like ‘fiancé’?”

“Hmm…” Rory considered. “You know what? How about ‘betrothed’?”

“‘Betrothed.’ I love it. ‘This is Rory, my betrothed.’ ‘Can’t, I’m going for dinner with my betrothed.’”

Rory giggled. “One moment please, my betrothed is calling.”

Finn kissed them. “My betrothed is so sexy.”

“No,mybetrothed is sexy.”

Finn growled and rolled on top of Rory. “My betrothed is about to get fucked within an inch of their life. Again.”

Rory grabbed Finn’s ass and pulled him closer. “I always said my betrothed was a generous lover.”

Finn earned his title again, this time as Rory’s betrothed.

* * * *

Parking in Lainey and Jonathan’s driveway was different this time. This time, Rory had chosen him for forever.

He was still nervous to see Jackson, though.

Bailey was at the door to greet them, in a sparkly pink dress and ‘Birthday Girl’ tiara.

“You look so cute,” Rory told her after they exchanged greetings.

“I know,” she said with a hair flick.

“Happy birthday, Bailey,” Finn said, handing her the gift he and Rory had picked out.

“This is gorgeous!” Bailey exclaimed, holding up the present. “My gosh. Who wrapped it?”

“I did,” Finn said, cheeks flushing as they always did when someone gushed over him. He had chosen shimmery pink wrapping paper, multiple pink and silver cloth ribbons, and, instead of a bow, a pink paper flower that was woven with a rose quartz beaded necklace.

“You did? You made this flower?” She marveled over it.

“Yup.”

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