Chapter 26
Finn
Rocks crunch under the tires as we roll down Millie’s childhood driveway and a white two-story farmhouse comes into view.
The house is surrounded by a green blanket of grass sprinkled with wildflowers and two massive hemlock trees.
Pepper perks up in the backseat between the girls, tail wagging as she looks out the windows.
“Are we there?” Eloise asks from her booster seat.
Millie’s legs bounce as she takes a deep breath. “Yep. This is it.” She points for me to park next to an old gray truck.
A cheerful greeting from outside the car has her opening the door before I’ve even turned off the car. Millie clings to a
young woman in a sun hat, and Pepper leaps through the front door to escape the car.
As I open the back to let the girls out, Mary approaches with a kind smile that’s identical to Millie’s. “Welcome!” She wraps
her arms around me in a motherly hug that instantly reminds me of my nonna. It’s been years since I had a hug like this. “I’m
so glad you’re here.” We pull back, and her palm lands on my shoulder with a squeeze. “I’ve been wishing to meet you.”
“Thanks for having us. Your property is beautiful.”
“Oh, thank you.” She squats in front of the girls. “I’m Millie’s mom, Mary. I’m so happy you’re here to visit our farm.”
Eloise smiles immediately. “I’m Eloise. Can I pet your goats?”
“Absolutely. They would love that,” she coos. “Is there an animal you want to pet, Avery?”
“Horses,” she says simply.
Mary nods. “That can be arranged. They’re my favorite too.”
Millie brings the young woman over and introduces us to Fable. Her sister is slightly shorter than Millie and looks right
at home on the farm in a pair of denim overalls rolled up over her work boots and two honey blonde braids on her shoulders.
When I reach out to shake her hand, she clasps it and then turns our joined hands to look at mine like she’s inspecting it.
She narrows her eyes and says, “Good-sized hands.”
That’s the oddest greeting I’ve ever received. “Um... thank you?”
Dropping my hand, she winks before kneeling to speak to the girls. “Know anyone who want to help me collect eggs?”
Avery nods, and Eloise jumps a few times. “Me! Me!”
Fable grabs their hands—not inspecting them at all—and turns to lead them toward the chicken coop.
As Millie and her mom are catching up, a tall, broad man in jeans and a flannel shirt catches my eye. He’s walking out of
the barn when Pepper bounds up to him, and he runs a hand over her back before continuing our way.
“Well, Millie finally came back home,” he says, wrapping her in a tight hug and rocking her back and forth.
When she pulls away, she gives him a stern glare. “You’re the one who didn’t come to visit last time Mama did.”
He ruffles her hair like I do with El and Ave.
I offer my hand, and he shakes it firmly. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Oaks. I’m Finn Ashford.”
His face creases all over with the strength of his smile. “Call me Dave.”
Millie grins as she watches us, the apples of her cheeks rosy, like they’re already sun-kissed.
“Okay”—Mary loops her arm through Millie’s—“let’s show Finn around so he feels right at home.”
***
The only thing more excruciating than Millie in a bikini is not being able to touch Millie in a bikini. The forest-green fabric is stretched across her perfect tits, giving enough of a tease to draw my attention
constantly. She sits on the edge of a small dock in her jean shorts, feet dangling in the pond as the sunshine dances across
her strong shoulders and delicate collarbones.
I watch her from where I’m swimming behind the raft that Eloise shares with Avery. Millie’s practically glowing, and I want
to lick every inch of exposed skin. And every hidden one too.
“Come on, Millie,” Eloise cheers. I note the streaks of sunscreen on her cheeks from where she wriggled away from me before
I could rub it all the way in. “It’s not scary. You just have to jump in.”
“I’m not scared.” Millie laughs. “I’m warming up in the sun before I hit that cool water.”
“Should we pull her in?” I whisper to the girls, pushing their raft closer to the dock.
Avery’s eyes go wide as she nods. Eloise covers her mouth with her hand to stop herself from spoiling the surprise, but it
only makes her look suspicious.
As I kick us closer, I spot some pink on Millie’s shoulders, even though I saw her apply plenty of sunscreen.
I only watched to make sure she covered everything.
For sunburn prevention.
No other reason at all.
When we approach the dock, I can barely touch my toes to the muddy bottom. I inch toward Millie until I can reach her foot
and quickly slide my hand around it and tug.
“It’s cold,” she cries, scooting out of my reach. I spot her phone on the wooden slats next to her, so I know it’s safe.
Keeping one hand on the girls’ raft, I hold the other up like a truce while I creep closer. When she glances at the girls,
I have just enough reach to grab her around the waist and toss her into the water next to me.
She shrieks the whole way, and the girls cackle. We tumble into the pond together, a wave of water crashing over us as our
arms and legs tangle, and we try to right ourselves.
When we surface, she pulls the hair out of her eyes and gives me a wicked grin. She treads water as she undoes her shorts,
and they make a wet smack when they land on the dock.
“You think you’re so funny, Spock.” She shoves me back with both hands, and it surprises me enough that my feet slip out from
under me. My head falls back under the water as Millie grabs the float and kicks away.
Once I regain my footing, I swim in their direction.
“There are some big fish in here,” she tells the girls when I catch up with them.
“As big as an alligator?” Avery asks, pulling her feet in tight to her body as I join Millie in pushing the girls.
“Not that big. But one time, I was fishing right there with Tessa, my big sister.” She points to a spot under a big spruce
tree. “I caught a fish as long as your arm. My dad cooked it for dinner that night, and I learned that I don’t like the taste
of fish.”
As if on cue, Millie lets out a sudden squawk and launches herself onto the raft next to Avery. She stares at me with wide
eyes, her face as white as a sheet. “Something slimy touched my leg.”
I burst out laughing as she scours around the float for the offender. “Here I was, impressed by your outdoorsy skills,” I tease.
Her eyes narrow with a benign threat. “Some people scream about spiders,” she says pointedly. “And some people scream about
fish.” Then she kicks water into my face, and the girls follow her lead.
***
“Draw four, Uncle Finn,” Eloise says during what feels like my seventy-fifth round of Uno with the girls, Mary, and Dave.
After drawing my cards, I scan the room around me. The difference between this house and my childhood home is night and day.
Where my house was sterile and tidy, and the evidence of children was erased from every surface, this home welcomes those
intimate signs of life. It brings me right into the warm memories like I was there.
Millie probably did her homework and ate every meal on the old farm table where our game is being played. Family pictures
line the living room walls, full of vacations and Halloween costumes and swim meets.
Fable walks in and leans over her dad’s shoulder, her fingers looped around the straps of her overalls. “You kicking this
big guy’s butt?” she asks Eloise and Avery.
“He hasn’t won a single game yet,” Mary says, laying down a yellow six.
Fable shakes her father’s shoulders. “Are you letting them win? You never let us win when we were kids.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Dave says decisively, laying down a draw-two for Avery. She scowls at him but takes her cards from
the pile.
Fable starts toward the stairs before pausing to look over her shoulder. “Are the Nikolaous coming for dinner?”
“I think so,” Mary answers, eyes still on her cards. “We invited them.”
“Great,” Fable grumbles, dragging out the word as she disappears up the stairs.
During our next round of Uno, the front door opens behind me with a creak, and boots hit the hardwood floors. I look over
my shoulder and find a man, probably a little taller than me, wiping his shoes on the mat in the doorway.
He slides off his Fern River Volunteer Fire Department cap, hanging it on a hook by the door and smoothing a hand over his
clean-shaven jaw. He’s followed by a curvy older woman with a kind smile and warm brown eyes to match his.
A flash of auburn hair and jean shorts whizzes by as Millie runs toward him from the kitchen and launches herself into his
arms. Heat creeps up my spine, and my body tenses, but I force myself to stay in my seat.
Holding her off the ground, he spins a few circles, her arms around his neck and face against his green flannel. I wish I
could hear what their muffled voices are saying.
“Uncle Finn,” Eloise nudges beside me. “Your turn.”
I play my red four and turn back to see the man lower Millie to the ground and tug the braid in her hair.
“It’s been too long, Mills. Good to see you.” His voice is soft and fond, and my teeth grind together.
Mills. I hate that he calls her the same name her friends do.
“What’s this?” Millie asks with a laugh, standing on her toes to rub her hand over his hair. “You forget how to drive to the
barber?” She moves to hug the other woman as Avery pulls my elbow, bringing me back to the game.
I lay down a blue six and meet Mary’s eyes across the table. Her mouth is set in a knowing smirk as she looks over my shoulder
where Millie and the man are.
“Theo and his mom, Eva.” She nods toward them. “He and his sister grew up with the girls.”
That information does little to relax my stiff jaw.
Millie looks so comfortable with this Theo guy. She just threw herself at him with no second thought. I want that level of
familiarity with her. I want her to jump into my arms without overthinking it.
I catch myself evil-eyeing him and turn to lay my cards facedown on the table, trying to smooth out the crease I’ve made.
Dave lets out a small, deep chuckle.
“Uno,” Avery calls out.
A hand slides over my shoulder as I play my next card. “This is Finn,” Millie says, pulling me to turn around.
Begrudgingly, I stand and reach my hand out to Theo. Forcing my jaw to unclench, I attempt to look as pleasant as I can under
the circumstances. “Finn Ashford. I’m Millie’s...”
I pause, wanting to stop there. I’m Millie’s. Period.
A possessive urge to claim her trickles through my veins, making my fingers twitch to wrap around hers.
Millie’s eyes bulge as she dons a bright smile. “Friend,” she says to finish for me. My attempt at looking mildly pleasant
must not be working, because she sends me an accusing glare.
Theo seems unaffected by my grimace. “Theo Nikolaou. Great to meet you,” he says, smiling wider than I ever have in my life.
I resist the urge to roll my eyes.
This fucking guy, with his movie-star smile, must be everyone’s favorite.
“I win,” Avery shouts from her seat, drawing our attention.
Millie walks around the table and kisses the top of her head. “Good job, Ave. My parents are hard to beat.”
While she introduces Theo and Eva to the girls, I catch Fable out of the corner of my eye.
She struts across the living room in a low-cut burgundy dress, her hair in golden waves behind her as she walks with an icy confidence she didn’t show before. Theo freezes where he’s talking to Dave, lips parted and eyes wide as he tracks Fable’s movement across the room. She never looks his way as she strides straight for the kitchen, hips swaying and chin high.
Theo clears his throat and sputters as he tries to refocus on his conversation with Dave.
For some reason, seeing a little agony creep into Theo’s expression gives me a hint of pleasure. The tension between my brows
releases slightly. “Is there anything I can do to help with dinner?” I ask Millie.
“Can I trust you not to burn anything?”
“Maybe give me an easy job?”
***
As it turns out, I have a gift for struggling with easy kitchen jobs. I’ve been given the task of making a salad, which sounded
pretty straightforward. But somehow, Tessa has already told me that the lettuce pieces are too big, and Fable informed me
that I added more cucumber than I should’ve.
“Fabes, I love your dress. You sure got fancy for dinner,” Tessa says from the stove, stirring green beans. Her brown hair
is in a neat French braid that I wish I could replicate for Avery.
“You’ve seen this dress a hundred times.” Fable presses the masher into the potatoes with a tight jaw.
“Sorry. I thought it was a compliment.” Tessa smirks over her shoulder, a hidden meaning dancing through her eyes. “You look
nice is all I’m saying.”
“Are you going out later?” Millie asks, her tone attempting innocence as she cuts the garlic bread into perfectly symmetrical
slices next to me.
Fable drops the potato masher on the counter with a clang . “No. I wanted to look nice for our mother’s birthday .” She slams her hands down on her hips, daring anyone to contradict her.
“Mm. Okay.” Millie meets Tessa’s eyes, and they share a knowing look.
Tessa wipes her hands on a kitchen towel. “Theo sure looks good. He’s all rugged and charming tonight, and I like it.” She
moves to the sink and starts washing a bowl.
“Well, you’ve always had a thing for unkempt lumberjacks.” Fable glares at her sister’s back.
Tessa doesn’t let the insult touch her as she laughs heartily. “Yeah, I kind of dig it on Theo.”
With a low growl, Fable places the bowl of mashed potatoes on the counter beside my salad and stomps out of the kitchen.
“You poked the bear, Tess,” Millie says, sneaking the heel of the bread to a patient Pepper between us.
“That’s the job of the oldest sister.” Tessa shrugs.
“True,” I chime in. “My older sister knew exactly where to poke to make me the angriest.” I drop the last bit of tomato into
the salad and open the croutons.
“How much older was she?” Tessa asks. The way she phrases her question lets me know Millie has already told her about Clara,
and the relief of that relaxes my shoulders.
“Four years. Luckily, we were never in high school together, or she would’ve made my life a living hell.”
Millie’s eyes flick to Tessa’s. “Been there. Tessa wasn’t too bad, but she had her moments.”
“Usually after you borrowed my clothes and didn’t return them,” Tessa grumbles.
“One time, when I was in middle school,” I say, “Clara told me I needed to practice how to talk to girls in the bathroom mirror. She said that’s how all the boys in high school learned. I believed her and stayed up late having an entire conversation with myself.” I shake my head, my cheeks heating. “Turned out she was recording the whole thing from the shower and played it for my friends the next day.”
Their bright laughter rings through the kitchen as I clean up my salad-making mess. Memories of Clara seem so cloudy in my
mind sometimes, like I can’t concentrate on them, because if I do, the pain of missing her will sharpen. But watching Millie
with her sisters makes me want to clear the haze and pull them into focus. I want to remember what I had with Clara, because every time I do, my chest feels a little lighter.