Page 84 of The Complication with the Best Man

I shake my head. “But what if we pick the wrong thing? And we haven’t even gotten into whether we’re going to use cloth diapers or disposable ones. Of course there’re a million options for those too. And will we give our baby a soother or just practice letting them cry it out? There are literally hundreds of decisions to be made.”

Finn rests the paint brush on top of the open can and comes over to me, crouching so that we’re almost eye level. “Hey, it’s going to be fine. We’ll make all these decisions together. You’re not alone in this.”

“But what if we make the wrong one?”

Some of this is my past insecurities coming out to mess with me. I’ve never been good at handling stressful decisions. For other people’s weddings? Sure. For myself? I’ve made a lot of wrong decisions in my life, too many to feel secure making such big ones that affect a helpless baby’s life.

“Then we’ll learn from it and make a different choice.” He shrugs. “Isn’t that what life is about? Living and learning and then trying to do better?” Finn holds eye contact, and I relax a little.

God, this man centers me in a way no one ever has. I draw in a deep breath and feel my shoulders relax down from around my ears.

Better. That’s better.

“You’re right.” I give him a reassuring nod.

“One decision at a time, okay? No reason to think about them all at once. You’ll drive yourself crazy.”

“Thank you. You always make me feel better when I start spiraling.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” He braces one hand on the floor and places a chaste kiss on my lips, then he stands. “Now what do you think of the color?” He motions to the wall where the paint is almost dry.

“It’s exactly how I pictured it. Looks great.”

“See? One decision at a time.” He winks, then turns around and goes back to the ladder.

I watch him for a while, rather than returning my attention to the computer. The way he concentrates so hard on what he’s doing as if he wants it to be perfect. The way he gets up and down the ladder with ease. How I can see a patch of skin when his T-shirt rides up when he reaches up with the paintbrush in his hand.

By the time he’s done cutting in the ceiling, the apex of my thighs throbs with need.

Finn comes down off the ladder for the last time, sets the paintbrush on top of the paint can, and steps back to admire his work. I crawl over to him with an idea in mind. Without a word, I crawl in front of him then raise up on my knees and undo the button on his cargo pants.

“What are you—” Finn looks down at me. “Oh.”

He watches intently as I unzip his pants and tug them down, along with his boxer briefs, until they pool at his ankles. His half-hard dick hangs between us, and I lean forward to gently suck on the tip.

Finn groans then reaches behind himself and yanks his T-shirt up over his head. “I want to see this.” His voice is gravelly, and I love that reaction.

His length hardens in my grip, and I stroke him up and down, meeting his gaze. His hands go into my hair, and I sink my mouth down on him as far as I can go, using my fist to make up the difference. A huff of air leaves his mouth, and his fingers tighten in my strands.

The look of pure pleasure on his face spurs me on until eventually, I pull my mouth off him, moving down to his balls. I continue to stroke him as I gently suck one.

“Fuck…” Finn groans, tipping his head back toward the ceiling.

A minute later, when I return my mouth to his length, he pulls me off him and hoists me up to my feet under my arms. “I’m gonna come if you keep doing that.”

“Kinda the point.” I arch an eyebrow.

“I want to come inside you. I wantyouto come.”

He picks me up bridal style, using his feet to divest himself of the pants and underwear around his ankles, and carries me to our bedroom, where he makes me come not once but twice.

Life just gets sweeter by the day.

forty-one

FINN

After a little break between the sheets, we finished painting the nursery yesterday, then went to bed early because we were both tired.

---