Page 31 of Time to Stirrup Love
It was clear Magnus wasn’t going to talk more about it and that was fine by her. She was not the town therapist and she had to mentally prepare for tonight, but she was glad to help out someone she knew.
As they drove over the town line, he brightened up and shimmered.
“That’s better,” he sighed.
She dropped Magnus off at Room with a Tomb Dead and Breakfast, or whatever they were going to call it, on Pleasant Street, which she found ironic, and then headed straight for her place to get ready for dinner, which included showering off the hike, algae and dirt from her work today.
As she peeled off her dirty clothes, she picked up the little horse and smelled it. There was a hint of pachouli woven into the fibers, and something else. The thing was, she’d been thinking about Finn since she first met him. She seriously doubted Hetty had imbued it with some kind of love potion.
It had beena long time since she’d been on a date. One, she didn’t have much time, and two, finding someone she actuallywanted to date longer than two minutes, which was pretty much never.
However, getting ready to have a dinner at Finn’s made her nervous. She also couldn’t help but think about Magnus and the so-called revenge date he mentioned. Was that a monster thing? Should she be worried? She and Finn hadn’t exactly gotten off on the right foot.
I don’t think Finn is the type to revenge date, whatever that is.
All that aside, she put it out of her mind. She dressed in a flirty casual dress, pinned up her hair, and made her way over to the marina.
As she walked up the dock, her heart was hammering in her chest, beating against her rib cage. Her pulse thrummed between her ears, her stomach knotted in anticipation, and her palms were actually sweaty.
This is ridiculous.
Finn was waiting on the deck of his houseboat. He was wearing jeans, which was usual, but these were nicer than the ones he usually wore. His shirt was flannel, but ironed and looked brand new. He had on boots, but they weren’t his rubber fishing boots. It was casual, but this shirt showed off his muscles, particularly on his thick forearms, and the jeans hugged to his hips and she thought of a bunch of naughty thoughts.
He’s so damn sexy.
“Hi,” she said brightly.
“Welcome. I’m glad you’re here.”
“Thank you for inviting me.” She reached out to grab the handrail and as she reached out, he took her hand in his and helped her aboard. So different from the day they first met, which wasn’t that long ago, but with this thawing in his grumpy personality she also felt like it was a lifetime ago.
They stood there for a few moments, the sun setting over the lake. It was calm and peaceful, except inside her something was stirring. Something she hadn’t felt in a long time.
“I hope you like pasta,” he said, breaking the silence between them.
“Love it.”
Finn smiled and let go of her hand. “Come on in.”
He opened the sliding door for her and she stepped into his home. She’d been here before, when she’d been wearing his clothes and her pants dropped to the floor. That had been an accident, now thinking about that, if her panties dropped, it wouldn’t be a mistake.
Get a hold of yourself!
There was a cute table set up with plates, two wine glasses. The ceiling was strung with twinkle lights. It was cozy and romantic.
“Would you like a glass of wine?” he asked.
“Sure,” she said.
He pulled out a seat for her. All formal and she could sense he was completely antsy.
Margaid sat down and Finn produced a box of wine. She giggled quietly to herself. She hadn’t seen a box of wine in a long time, but she knew they were making a comeback and the wine inside wasn’t that cheap stuff she and her roomies would buy to get drunk in college.
Finn’s hands were so large he was able to grip the box with one hand and flick on the little tap to pour her a glass. It was a merlot, or at least that’s what she thought because it was red, but she was not a wine connoisseur by any means.
He filled his glass next and sat down. “Dinner is almost ready.”
“I’m not in a rush. You’ve done a nice job decorating. Now I’ll have to judge your cooking skills.”
