Give Me Butterflies (Oaks Sisters #1)

Chapter 10

Millie

“You and the girls totally teamed up against me!” I yell into the speaker end of my phone. If I weren’t driving down the road,

I’m sure people would be able to hear my voice echoing through my car as I scream at Lena.

“They did play right into my plans, didn’t they?” she croons.

“The next time you like someone, I’m going to make sure they know about that time you threw up all over that woman’s lap—the one buying you

drinks at Barkeep’s.” I pause at a stop sign as I enter Finn’s neighborhood. “Not that I like Finn. But you know what I mean.”

Lena’s dark chuckle drifts through the phone. “Sure. Keep telling yourself that.” She lets out a dramatic sigh. “I’m devastated

I won’t be there. I only saw him for, like, three minutes with those girls, and I was already swooning.”

My knuckles turn white as I squeeze the steering wheel. “No one is supposed to be swooning!” I shout as my GPS directs me

to turn right.

“Are you the swoon police?” Lena asks, giggling through her words. “Because you might end up needing to arrest yourself. Watch

out for that.”

“Ugh,” I grumble through my tight jaw. “You are the worst best friend in history, and Micah has just been promoted to your previous position.”

Her loud laugh fills my car right as I slam my finger down on my cracked screen to end the call.

I scan the modern houses and cozy cottages until my navigation system tells me I’ve arrived. Parking in front of the dark-green,

two-story bungalow, I check the house number and turn off the car.

The coppery taste of blood hits my tongue, reminding me of how aggressively I’ve been chewing on my lip. Flipping down the

mirror, I use a napkin from the glove box to stop the bleeding.

My mind can’t process the fact that I’m going to his house. This isn’t like randomly running into them at Maggie’s. There’s

something intimate about being in another person’s space, learning how they fold their towels, seeing their favorite coffee

cup drying in the kitchen, and getting a glimpse at how they organize their fridge.

Did all his condiments expire three years ago? Does he let everything mold in there before he throws it away?

Once the blood has stopped, I let my eyes wander over the house beside me. Plants surround the wide porch, with massive ferns

in hanging pots and flowers lining the walkway up to the wooden steps. Two spruce trees tower over the yard like a grand welcome.

The golden evening sun is still blazing in the sky, but a warm glow of light radiates through the windows.

The inviting homeyness tugs at that invisible thread in my heart, pulling me toward the house.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, I run my clammy palms over my jeans and look around the car. My trusty twenty-year-old 4Runner

still smells like sunscreen and the pool from my years of driving to and from high school swim practice, and I close my eyes

to let it soothe my nerves.

I will have to get out of the car eventually, but I take a moment to give myself a small pep talk. Pretend Lena’s in my pocket telling me how amazing I am.

Damn it. No. I’m mad at Lena right now.

When I gather my nerves and step out of the car, a soft click sounds from Finn’s house. I snap my eyes to his porch.

He stands in his open doorway, arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the frame. I’ve never seen him in anything

other than work clothes, but this evening I have the immense privilege of witnessing what he looks like in jeans. The way

they’re hugging his muscular thighs is almost obscene. His black T-shirt is stretched across his chest and shoulders, and

his bare feet and glasses add to the relaxed ensemble, making me a little light-headed.

As I walk up the stairs, electricity crackles through the air between us, buzzing and snapping as I draw closer. When I look

up, his lips are curved in a warm smile, and it distracts me enough that I stumble up the last step.

I’m fully prepared to fall. Just crash at his feet like, here I am in typical Millie fashion, falling all over you .

But two large hands grab my upper arms and catch me before I hit the porch’s wooden slats. His palms meet my bare skin, and

the electricity from the air mainlines straight into my body through his hands—a powerful jolt I’m not prepared for.

“What am I going to do with you, Millie?” Finn smirks as he stands me up straight.

Put your fingers through my hair and kiss me? Slide your hands down to my waist and pull me toward you.

Shit.

Oh my god.

No, Millie.

The line! You aren’t crossing it.

Quit thinking like a lady starved for an orgasm. You can handle that yourself later.

I plant my feet firmly back under me and practically jump out of his grip, needing to derail my brain. I will not have those thoughts in this man’s presence. That is so far past appropriate it might as well be in another world.

“I keep crashing into you,” I say, smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles in my jeans as I attempt to rein my hormones back

in.

“I don’t mind,” he replies smoothly. “Come on in.” He motions for me to walk through the door first, and Avery and Eloise

run into me in greeting.

Avery pulls my arm until I crouch in front of her, and she whispers in my ear, “Uncle Finn was worried you couldn’t find our

house.”

I look up at Finn, but he’s fiddling with Eloise’s hair and not paying attention. “I was a little nervous, so I was driving

slowly.”

She nods, squinting at me like she totally gets it.

Eloise grabs my hand, pulling me into the living room. “Uncle Finn was helping us make spaceships,” she says, dragging me

to a corner littered with Legos. “And this is where we color.” She points to a child-sized table cluttered with crayons and

open coloring books.

Avery plops onto the midnight-blue couch that has no less than fifteen stuffed animals piled on one side. She holds up a small

moose. “This is Moosey.” Then she picks up a giraffe. “And this is Giraffey.”

A smile blooms on my lips at their name choices. “Nice to meet you, Moosey and Giraffey.”

“And, Millie,” Eloise says, drawing my attention away from the animal introductions. She stands in front of the brick fireplace

and points to a black vase with intricate gold designs on the sides. “That’s where Mama is now.”

Realization hits me, and my eyes burn as tears rise to the surface. Framed images sit on either side of the urn, of a stunning woman with raven hair and blue eyes. The picture on the right was clearly taken after she had gotten sick—the deep, dark circles under her eyes a stark contrast to the girls’ bright faces as they smile at her. Another was taken in happier times—the girls coming down a slide with their mom, laughter on everyone’s faces. Behind the framed pictures are the butterfly canvases from this afternoon.

Avery and Eloise have already jumped to the next thing, trying to pull me toward the Legos, but my heart is snagged on the

sweet and devastating mantel.

My gaze meets Finn’s where he’s standing behind the couch. His fingers dig into the back of it as he looks at me with a quiet

grin that seems to say, Welcome to the chaos.