Page 44 of My Merry Mistake
He leans in and, under his breath, out of earshot of anyone else, he says, “It’s kind of what I do.”
I open my eyes wide, shaking my head, silently telling him not to broach this subject in this company.
He leans back and, with kind eyes, just smiles and nods.
I huff out an annoyed breath. “Fine.”
I want to argue, but honestly, I’m too tired. The exhaustion really is unlike anything I’ve felt before. My eyelids are so heavy it’s almost painful, my muscles feel like they’re hanging on for dear life, and I never did take that Advil, so my head is still pounding.
I open the door and walk out onto the porch, wishing I’d gone home after I left dinner instead of stopping here. I really don’t feel like driving at all.
“Thanks, Finn,” Eloise says as he steps out onto the porch.
“I’ll text when she’s home safe, promise,” he says, then pulls the door closed.
I roll my eyes again. “So dramatic,” I mutter under my breath.
“Even you have to admit—that was weird.” He stands in front of me, staring at me. “Are you actually okay?”
I reach up to pat him on the shoulder, but instead, I place a hand on his cheek. It’s a strangely intimate gesture I hadn’t intended, and I’m instantly struck by a memory. It hits me like a flash—images scrolling like a slideshow.
The dark room. His hands on my hips. The long, lingering gaze.
I pull my hand back, trying to ignore the stunned expression on his face. “Sorry, I didn’t—” I gather myself. “I’m fine.”
He nods and motions toward the stairs. I walk to my car, hyperaware of his presence right beside me.
“How was your date?” he asks.
I frown at him. “You really want to know?”
“Sure,” he shrugs.
“It was fine.”
He nods. “You like him?”
“I do, yeah,” I say. “He’s in real estate. Very successful. Kind. Good teeth.” I smile.
“Ah,” he says in a wistful tone. “Just what everyone is looking for—good teeth. It must be love.” He pulls open my car door before I can get to it.
I glare at him.
“Don’t give me that look,” he says. “I know you don’t need a man to open your door, but my momma brought me up to be a gentleman.” He doesn’t budge. “And I believe a gentleman can take care of a woman at the same time that that woman takes care of everything else.”
“I really don’t need anyone to take care of me,” I say.
“No, you sure don’t.” He levels my gaze. “But every once in a while, wouldn’t it be nice if someone did?”
Something deep down in my bones answers his question with a loud and resounding, “Yes!”
I shake the thought away and get into my car. “You don’t have to follow me.”
“I know, but I’m going to anyway.” He closes the door, then walks over to his Jeep, and as I round the circle drive and head back out to the road, I can’t even pretend his headlights in my rearview mirror are anything but comforting.
Because for whatever reason—it’s nice to know I’m not alone.
The drive is only about ten minutes, but I take it slow because something still feels a little off, like I could fall asleep at the wheel. When I pull into my driveway, I exhale a slow sigh of relief, expecting Finn to honk and drive back to the city.
