Page 71 of Of Heather and Thistle
“Well, you’re setting them now,” Flynn said with a lopsided grin. “And for the record, you’re welcome to stare—uh, observe—anytime.”
Heather groaned, rolling her eyes, but she couldn’t stop the smile tugging at her lips.
Flynn was trouble—the best kind of trouble.
Usually, being around someone this confident, this capable, would have set her nerves on edge. But with Flynn? It felt effortless.
He had a way of putting her at ease with a grin, a playful comment, making her feel lighter, steadier.
She wasn’t used to it.
And that realization caught her off guard.
She paused, watching as Flynn adjusted a beam, his movements steady and sure.
What would Ivy think of him?
Heather could almost hear her voice—mocking, not teasing. She would point out how ruggedly handsome Flynn was, how Heather should stop second-guessing and enjoy the attention while it lasted.
Heather chuckled dryly, shaking her head.
If Ivy were here, she’d try to turn her charm on Flynn, just to prove she could. She always did. Beautiful, confident, and unapologetic, Ivy never hesitated to take what she wanted,no matter the cost.
Heather could almost hear her now:
“Oh, Heather, he’s too delicious to ignore. If you’re not going to make a move, someone has to.”
But Flynn wasn’t like the guys in Millhaven. He wasn’t the kind of man who saw Ivy first.
His gaze always landed on Heather—steady, lingering, like he was actually seeing her.
Not as an extension of someone else.
Just her.
And if he didn’t?
Well, maybe it was time she stopped measuring her worth by whether or not she caught someone’s attention.
She rolled her eyes at the imagined scenario… Ivy would try it. Flash that grin. Flynn wouldn’t know what hit him. But Heather… didn’t want to fade this time.
And as much as Heather hated to admit it, part of her wondered if he’d even notice her standing in Ivy’s shadow.
That old pang of insecurity flickered in her chest.
“Not this time,” she murmured, more to herself than anyone else.
For once, she didn’t want to fade into the background.
Flynn didn’t seem like the type to be easily swayed by Ivy’s theatrics, but even if he was, Heather was done competing with a ghost of who Ivy used to be.
This was her story—her chance to figure out what she wanted. Not just for the house, but for herself.
And Flynn?
Well, he was complicating things in the best way possible.
The thought lingered as she watched him from the corner of her eye. Kneeling by the base of a broken door frame, hisbrows furrowed in concentration, he worked with a quiet confidence that set her at ease.
