Page 91 of Your Two Lips
She gave me a tender kiss. “I want that too.”
55
EMILY
Finn sat nextto me on his parents’ sectional sofa. The entire space on this side was open, but he was so close to me I was practically falling into him. That was probably the goal, and I shifted to slide my legs across his lap. His hand settled on my thighs, his thumb doing that lazy circle move that stirred my blood. Close to him was where I wanted to be.
The big farmhouse smelled like cinnamon, and the tree in the corner sparkled above a mountain of presents. Christmas Eve. Tess was home on her break from her last year of grad school, her head full of ideas for the bike resort. Lucas had arrived this afternoon, too, but without his usual gift of an almond cake.
He said a quick hello, told us the baker that made them left the restaurant, and he didn’t know how to find them. He looked defeated. His posture sagged as he kept his hands firmly in his back pockets, then he locked himself in our guest bedroom, claiming urgent business to close out by year-end.
Ourguest bedroom. I was finally moved in with Finn. I hadn’t yet decided what to do with my house. Keeping it could signal Finn I wasn’t committed. Selling it could signal I was moving too fast. It was a good house with its fabulous view and quirky neighbors. I would figure something out. There was no rush.
My dad and Elena were snuggled on the other end of the sectional sofa. Elena had slowed him down, thankfully. He was retiring, traveling, laughing again. They were planning a boat trip along the coast this summer.
My brother, Grayson, and his wife, Abby, would drive across the mountains as soon as the passes were back open. The recent storm had dropped several feet of snow at higher elevations, and Gray was not taking any risks with his wife’s condition. Abby was four months pregnant and glowing. I still felt the pang sometimes, but it dulled considerably when I looked at the people I did have. And there was Finn. Loving and real and here for me. Like I was for him.
Finn’s mom had put on a festive dinner of roast beef with carrots, potatoes, and gravy, all made with the dash of love that made home cooking so special. Not chef-prepared perfection, but something more because of its imperfections. More than enough. She poked her head into the great room. “Who wants dessert?” All hands went up.
“Donna, let me help you.” I hopped up, and Finn grabbed my wrist. I leaned down. “Hold my spot, Mr. Big Man.”
He grinned at the nickname. “Louder,” he whispered, and I rolled my eyes.
Lucas joined the family for dinner and was now avoiding us by volunteering for dish duty. As far as I knew, it was a first, at least the volunteering part. He said the drive and traffic took a lot out of him. I didn’t believe him.
Lucas and I had become friends, and I knew something was off. While Donna sliced her homemade carrot cake, a Christmas tradition, I pulled Lucas into the butler’s pantry, claiming we needed more bottles of wine. Well, we probably did.
“Lucas, are you okay? Something’s up.” The circles under his eyes were even darker than earlier today.
“I’m fine. Nothing to worry about.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“It will keep for a few days. You don’t come and tell your family bad news on Christmas.”
“I’m not your family.”
“That’s only a matter of time, princess.” My heart skipped a little. I wanted to marry Finn Bakker and live in the sunshine and color of this place every day. Sleep in Finn’s arms every night. Adopt a baby or two when we were ready. I wanted that, and maybe I could have it.
“Lucas, you’re scaring me a little. What bad news?”
He sighed. “You know I was working on that app deal, partnering with a new entrepreneur?”
I nodded and stayed silent.
“Not gonna happen.” Whew, that wasn’t a problem. Deals fell through all the time.
“That sucks. But you’ll bounce back. You always have three more waiting in the wings.”
“Not this time.” He raised his hands. “I didn’t do anything illegal. But one of the entrepreneurs on the deal, Cole, I’m fairly sure he did, and until they complete the investigation, I am untouchable in Seattle.”
“What?”
“I don’t know much more. I’m cooperating with the detectives. The code we were working on, building off of, it was stolen.”
“What … happens next?”
“The detective suggested I, quote, take a break. She assured me Cole was the focus, and I was just another in a line of developers and consultants he had used. It’ll be a couple of months while they sort it all out. I gave notice at Applake a week ago. They didn’t need the drama, and I wouldn’t be making them any more money anytime soon. My shelf life expired.” He looked defeated.
