Falling for Finn (Maplewood Falls #1)

Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE

OAKLEY

The moment I take a huge bite of an apple scone, the door swings open, and Finn walks in wearing his signature scowl. Crumbs fall on my lap, and I quickly dust them off. As he heads toward me with his sleeves rolled to his forearms, I study him. Too bad he has a shitty attitude because he checks all the other boxes—tall, muscular, and tan, with a perfect smile he hardly shows.

The way his ex looked at him piqued my curiosity, but it’s not like he’ll share with me what happened. A part of me feels bad that he had to load my things again, but he chose this when he picked me as his fake girlfriend.

“Did you eat dinner?” he asks.

“Not yet. Started with the pastries.” I smirk without admitting that I waited for him.

“Let’s grab some food, then we can head to my place and get you settled.”

“Okay.” I follow him to the kitchen, where his grandma serves each guest. She quickly makes us bowls of beef stew with a side of cornbread. We eat in silence as I scroll through all the photos I’ve taken over the past couple of days.

The stew is delicious, and I’m appreciative of the hearty meal. I worked up an appetite arguing with Finn all day. He’s more tense than usual, and it’s no secret why.

When we’re finished, he takes our dishes to the kitchen. I stand, taking another scone with me to eat in the truck.

On our way there, he maintains a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel. Frustration rolls off him in waves as we pull up to his house. He kills the engine, then turns to me.

“Why did you have to let Aspen have her way? You should’ve stood your ground, and she would’ve had to go somewhere else.”

My jaw drops. “Are you kidding me? Don’t forget that you randomly volunteered me to be your girlfriend for some reason. What you should be doing right now is thanking me for saving your grumpy, lying ass. I could’ve called you out and humiliated you, but I didn’t. Maybe I should’ve because you’ve been nothing but rude to me since the moment we met. You’re the last person to deserve my kindness.”

He sucks in a deep breath and gets out of the truck, but I don’t let him get away that easy.

“I was trying to help you because it was clear she was getting under your skin. Your reaction made it obvious that the breakup didn’t go too well.”

He doesn’t acknowledge anything I’ve said as he unlocks the front door.

“Seriously? No response to that?” I ask, following him inside and looking around.

“What do you want me to say, Oakley?” He turns with a scowl.

“Forget it.” I give up, knowing this conversation is going nowhere. He’ll never admit I did him a solid or that he fucked up.

Finn goes to the truck and starts unloading my boxes.

I study the inside of the A-frame-structured home that looks like it was built a hundred years ago like everything else on the farm. There are many windows, and some overlook the patio area with a firepit and a view to die for.

Almost every flat surface is white except for the dark hardwood floors. He has a small kitchen, a tiny living room with a TV on the wall, a coffee table, and a small couch. My eyes trail up the set of stairs that leads to the loft. From what I can tell, it’s his bedroom. The only room with a door is the bathroom. There isn’t a lot of space, and the thought has me stressing out about where my painting supplies will fit.

“Great,” I mumble, wondering if it’s too late to tell Aspen I changed my mind.

After several trips, all of my things are in.

Finn glances around. “You have too much shit. Make sure it stays out of my way.”

“Not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m here to do a job, not kiss your ass.”

I start unpacking, which aggravates me to do it all over again. I take my time setting up my paints and brushes. Finn watches me for ten minutes but eventually goes into the bathroom. A moment later, I hear the water running. Now that he’s not micromanaging my every move, I decide to help myself to a tour since he was too rude to offer me one.

I sneak up the stairs to get a full view of his king-sized bed, which he didn’t make before he left this morning. Dirty clothes are on the floor, and his nightstand has half-full glasses of water. I carefully make my way to the bottom floor and plop down on the couch. I push my hand into the cushions, and they’re too firm. No way will I be able to sleep on cushions filled with cement, and I start to panic about what I’m going to do.

Without quality sleep, I can’t speed paint. It takes too much out of me physically and mentally. I’m frustrated as hell as I lean back on the hard sofa. I close my eyes, trying to calm my racing heart.

When the bathroom door swings open, I turn and watch as Finn walks out wearing a towel and only a towel. I swallow hard, tracing the path the water droplets slide down his sculpted body. They fall down his inked biceps and chest, in the caverns of his chiseled abs, and continue down to that perfect V that points at his danger zone.

Heat rushes through me, and I swallow hard, then force my eyes away. I hate how my heart quickens, and I hope he doesn’t notice. I move to my canvas leaning against the wall and place it on my easel.

“If you’re going to stay here, you’ll have to learn to keep your eyes to yourself and not ogle me.”

“Fuck off. I wasn’t ogling you.” I was trying my best to erase that image that’s been carbon copied into my brain. The last thing I need when I’m providing myself a little self-care is images of him in a towel.

“Then what would you call it?”

I roll my eyes. “Just confirming that you’re not my type.”

He gives me a smug look. “Right.”

“I noticed there’s only one bed.”

“Great observation. The couch is yours, Sunshine. Good night.”

“Whoa, I don’t think so.” I keep eye contact, but it’s hard not to linger lower.

He shrugs, then takes the stairs.

I scoff. “I can’t sleep on that brick!”

“You’ll be fine,” Finn says as I follow him up to his room. “I wouldn’t come up here.”

He moves toward his dresser and opens one of the drawers. Without warning, the towel falls to the floor into a crumpled heap. My eyes widen as I explore the muscles cascading down his back and ass. I lose my ability to speak and groan before storming downstairs without a plan.

My heart slams against my chest, but I try to breathe through it.

“Good night,” he says, then I hear his faint chuckle, but I don’t find any of this funny. At this point, I’m convinced he’s trying to get a rise out of me. The lights upstairs flick off.

“I need a pillow and a blanket!” I shout.

A moment later, something flies from the loft and plops on the floor in front of the couch.

“Nice.” I shake my head, scooping up the items and throwing them on the couch. If I could put a curse on him, I would.

“I think you’re the one who’s Satan ,” I shout, but he doesn’t respond.

I go to my duffel bag and search for my phone charger, then plug it in so I can text-rant to my sister. I try to list everything that’s happened in the past twelve hours, and my heart pounds as fast as my thoughts. Even my fingers struggle to keep up. Once I press send, I impatiently wait for her response because right now, I’m ready to quit the whole project and go home.

Tiernan

OMG, that’s a lot to take in. What can I do to help?

Oakley

Fly here and kick his ass, then make him go stay at his grandma’s.

The thought has me chuckling because I can imagine Tiernan doing it in her assertive older sister tone.

Tiernan

He can’t be that bad.

Oakley

He is. Plus, nothing seems to be going my way, and I’m growing more frustrated. Maybe I should leave? Maybe I’m not cut out for this after all.

Tiernan

You can’t quit, sis. Don’t let him get to you. Gotta play him at his own game, ya know? You’re not intimidated by his good looks, are you?

I grind my teeth and playfully roll my eyes even though she can’t see me.

Oakley

Ugh.

Tiernan

Maybe that’s HIS problem? He finds you attractive and doesn’t like that he does.

Oakley

Very doubtful. I’m stressed about this bed situation. I can’t sleep on this damn couch and have enough energy to paint all day tomorrow. It’s not even long enough.

Tiernan

How big is his bed?

Oakley

It’s big-big. King size. Two adults could sleep comfortably without touching.

I imagine his warmth next to me and then swallow hard as I read Tiernan’s next words.

Tiernan

Then crawl in there with him. If he’s asleep, he won’t even realize it until morning.

Oakley

I don’t know. He seems like the type to be an even bigger asshole in his sleep. He’d probably sleep-kick me.

Tiernan

You need to show him that you won’t back down when it comes to your job. Then remind him again that he chose this. He made his bed, and now he has to share it, HA!

I snort at her analogy.

Oakley

Maybe you’re right.

I contemplate it.

Tiernan

Well…Everett says you shouldn’t do it. But I’m your sister, and I know what’s best. Quality sleep is more important than pissing off this guy.

Oakley

I’ll think it over and will update you if he kicks me to the hills.

Tiernan

Great! Good night. Get some rest.

I open my sketchbook and glance over what I have, trying to fully visualize the scene. The fence and structures, the pond and blue skies—it’s as vibrant in my memory as it is in real life. I quickly add more to the drawing, then decide to let it marinate until morning.

I happily text Tiernan and tell her I’ve finalized my idea.

Tiernan

Did you go up there yet?

Oakley

No. I’m going now. Wish me luck ;)

Tiernan

You’ve got this, sis. Be quiet like a mouse!

I flick off the kitchen light and stumble my way in the dark past the couch. Quietly, I listen for noise at the bottom of the stairs. I focus so hard that I swear I can hear him breathing from down here.

A shot of adrenaline rushes through me as I take the first step and then the second. Halfway up, one of the steps creaks so loud, I nearly jump out of my skin. I stop and listen for rustling but only silence lingers.

When I make it to the top of the loft, I freeze. Finn is under the comforter with his back toward me. It’s now or never.

I tiptoe across the small space to his bed, hoping no more boards yell in the darkness, then carefully slide underneath the covers. My eyes feel heavy as I sink into the perfect mattress. Before I can think another thought or worry about what Finn will do, I drift asleep.