Page 110 of Stirring Up Love
“I would literally punch you in the face if you cut short your honeymoon for me,” Simone said, and Alisha laughed.
“So are you going for it?”
“I am.”
Alisha whooped, and Quentin’s face took over the frame. “Does this mean I can have my wife back?”
“Take her away. I’ve got this.” Action was her wheelhouse. Tell Finn she loved him? Terrifying. But show him? Heck yes, that she could do.
“We’re rooting for you,” Quentin said. “No matter what.” Warmth fizzed through her chest at his support. She could get used to having a brother.
Leaning into view, Alisha said, “Hey, do you think you can ask for Constance’s autograph when you—”
“Bye, Simone.” Quentin sounded a tad less patient than he had a second ago, and Simone laughed as the call ended.
No, she couldn’t get Constance’s autograph, because a plan was forming in her mind, and if she decided to go for it, then she’d have a much bigger favor to ask.
CHAPTER 39
FINN
“There’s someone at the door for you.” Darius flung open the guest room door without knocking, interrupting Finn’sTop Chefmarathon. “Put on a shirt, right now. And pants.”
He looked past the Cheetos crumbs on his bare chest to the cactus-covered pajamas he had definitely not put on to feel closer to Simone.
“Actualpants, the kind with a zipper,” Darius said, then glanced around at the mix of clean and dirty laundry on the floor. “You know what? Hang on.” He disappeared and came back in thirty seconds, handing him two hangers holding a dress shirt and chinos. “Put these on. And brush your teeth. I’ll stall. You’ve got five minutes.”
Finn bunched the clothes in his hands, watching Darius’s fists clench at the impending wrinkles. “I don’t want to see her, Dare.” Except he did. So much his chest hurt.
So much so that he’d spent the past week hiding out in Darius’s spare room, marinating in his unhappiness, venturing out only for his shifts at Bellaire and the meal center. He hadn’t made any new batches of sauce, had taken the website offline.
What was the point? Monday had come and gone with no word from Simone. He’d lost out on her and the deal. Running a cooking school? That kind of future was for people who’d had life figured out since second grade. And developing feelings for a powerhouse like Simone? A recipe for heartache.
Darius was glowering at him from the foot of the bed. “You sure as heck better want to see her. This is your last chance.”
His last chance had been at the reception, and he’d squandered it. He tossed the button-down and slacks on the unmade bed. He had half a mind to go out there shirtless—he knew what his body did to her. His skin prickled at the memory of how she’d traced his tattoos, circled his arms and gripped ...
He snatched up a hoodie at random from the pile spilling out of his duffel, tugged it over his bare chest, and walked down the hall, dread and anticipation warring in his gut. Was she here to take him back or tell him off?
But when his eyes lit on the woman waiting for him, he backpedaled and collided with the corner of the wall. “Ouch!”
“Mr.Rimes?” Next to Darius sat a very poised Constance Rivera.
Clutching his elbow, he waved. “Ms.Rivera. Hi. Hello.”
His friend’s eyes went wide, and he mouthed, “What. The. Heck?”
Finn grimaced, helpless. He was an idiot. Also, Darius could’ve been more specific. He would murder him later, though. For now he had to figure out what kind of ambush he’d walked into. “I, uh ... I wasn’t expecting you.” As if that wasn’t obvious.
She let her gaze drift down to rest on his cactus pants for a brief moment. “I gather. Though I don’t blame you. After you blew off the meeting, I’m sure I’m the last person you expected to see.”
Wow, she held nothing back. Feeling more nervous than he had on the show, he bit his lip. “This is unexpected, yeah.” Unexpected in the way a planet-killing asteroid would be. “Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Water?”Vodka, straight up?
“No, thank you. I have something I’d like to discuss with you. Over dinner, if you’re free?”
He was wearing pajamas at four p.m. Clearly he had nowhere to be. Refusing a dinner invitation from Constance Rivera would be even more brazen than turning down an investment from her.
Equal parts nervous and mortified, he said, “Um, sure?”
