Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 132834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
I could hold it together. It wasn’t like this was a big deal. We’d had sex. People had sex. Now we had a job to do. Pretending today was like any other day, I called across the kitchen, “Do you two need help getting dinner set up?”
“I think we’re good,” Kitty called back, sending a questioning look to Finn.
Finn nodded in agreement. “We’ve got it. We’ll have dinner on the table here in ten minutes.”
“Okay, great,” I said brightly, feeling weirdly unsettled. I should be glad he had everything under control. And I was. I just . . . I didn’t know what part I was supposed to play. I was struggling to be the perfectly efficient housekeeper in this exact moment when what I wanted was to march across the kitchen, grab Finn by the collar of his faded t-shirt, and drag him into the scullery. Which I wasn’t going to do for so many very good reasons.
Forget that. I was going to get myself together. Now. I washed my hands, smoothing on lotion afterward more thoroughly than I needed to, buying a little time to look normal while I figured out how to be normal.
I turned to my mom, now sitting at a table with the kids. “Sorry, I got distracted over at the cottage,” I said. “Thank you for everything in the boxes you brought. Those things already make it feel like home.” I pictured the cottage in my mind and smiled. “It’s so beautiful, Mom.” I sank into the seat opposite her. She reached across to clasp my hand.
“I know, honey. It’s absolutely gorgeous.” My mom’s eyes filled with tears as her smile met mine. “I’m so happy for you. It’s a beautiful home. And even more, it’s meant to be your home.” She let out a sigh. “I worked hard for Prentice, and he paid me well, but I was an employee, and it was a job.”
Waving her hand in a circle to encompass the kitchens, and, I thought, the whole of Heartstone, she went on, “This is different. Griffen and Hope made you a home because they want this to be your home.”
I smiled back at her as my eyes went a little watery too. “I didn’t realize moving to the cottage would make me so weepy,” I said quietly.
“I know,” my mother said. “Trust me, I was more than happy to get out of that place and move into my cottage in town when I finally quit working for Prentice. And still, I shed a tear or two when I drove through those gates and thought I’d never cross them again. Change is always hard, even when it’s good.”
I squeezed her fingers before I let go. “I have a wise mother,” I murmured.
“That you do,” she shot back with a wink.
Turning my attention to the kids, I asked, “Did you boys have a nice day at school?”
“Yeah,” August said, kicking his heels against his chair and bouncing a little in his seat. “We had kickball in gym, and my team won both games.”
“My class didn’t get to play kickball,” Nicky exclaimed with a scowl.
August sat back and folded his arms over his chest, nodding. “I know. Not until second grade. But it’s so awesome. I hit Chad in the head with the ball, and I didn’t even get in trouble.” He stared up at the ceiling, reliving the memory. “It was the best.”
They went off into a rambling conversation about sports at school that I didn’t even try to follow. It was all I could do to sit there with a blandly polite smile and nod at the right moments.
Finn set our dinner on the table, a gorgeous roasted chicken, loaded baked potatoes, and a green salad with freshly baked buttered rolls. Damn, the man could cook. Someday I would ask him exactly how and when he’d learned to cook like this. Not today. Today I was going to pretend he didn’t exist.
Not that I needed to. Finn took care of that as he jumped into the kids' conversation about sports and their argument about whether it should be called soccer or football and, regardless of the name, whether it was superior to baseball. I couldn’t possibly have cared less about any of it. I zoned out, keeping my face in a bland mask until I heard, “Savannah!” in a sharp tone. My mother.
“Sorry,” I said, sitting up and focusing on her face. “I didn’t hear you. I guess I’m just tired.” My eyes involuntarily flicked to Finn. His own composure broke just long enough to send me a smug smile, a glint in his eyes that I swear to god made my nipples perk up. Annoying man.
“That’s all right, honey,” my mother said, pulling my attention back to her. “Tomorrow is going to be a big day. We should all get to bed early.”