9. Bewitched
Courtney
Iwatch Finn reach for a wrench before his head disappears once again under the sink. Even from my position a few feet away from him, I can see his back muscles through the casual tee he has on. I grumble to myself in annoyance, even when fixing a sink Finn Abernathy dares to be so unfortunately attractive. I check his backside, but of course, there’s not even a damn plumber’s crack. Just a perfectly tight ass.
However, It’s not him I’m truly annoyed with; it’s myself for even letting him inside the house in the first place. In doing so, I solidified something inside myself that I secretly knew was there all along— genuine feelings for Finn. I can’t hide from them anymore and it infuriates me. I came to Havenwood with one rule: no boys, and not even a month in I’ve ruined my chances. But even still, I can hardly blame myself; beyond his striking looks, his stoic and reserved personality is all but irresistible. He’s the complete opposite of Carter in every sense.
Where Carter is self-obsessed and egotistical, Finn is considerate and thoughtful. No man had ever given me a gift basket or willingly fixed my sink without taking no for an answer. Why does he have to be so perfect? Finn’s lack of undeniability is aggravating.
Yet lurking below the mayor’s chivalrous surface is something sexy, depraved, and needy. I had seen it in the orchard when he demanded I ask him nicely for his help. I had only caught a glimpse of it, and I’m itching to explore further..
“I’m glad you let me take a look at this,” Finn’s deep voice echoes from the cabinet. “It’s not a bad crack; just needed some plumber’s putty, but these things can lead to more damage. Worst case scenario is a sinkhole,” he jokes.
“It’s not often a man tries so hard to get a look at my leaks.” I freeze the instant the words leave my mouth, realizing just how unhinged and horny that sounded. I cough into my fist to irradicate some of the tension caused by my statement, I decide that now is a great opportunity to excuse myself. I try to silently tip-toe out of the room but Finn’s head emerges from the cabinet.
“Your leaks are great but I’m curious to get to know you better, Courtney.” His icy blue eyes lock on me and I stiffen, any thoughts of escape turning to sand in my palms as he pins me with his stare.
Does he mean that as suggestively as it sounds? No, of course not. His words unintentionally came out that way, just as mine had. He’s just being friendly. Regardless of his meaning, I’m burnt out from regurgitating my lackluster life story. With an internal grimace, I stare down at my nails.
“I was born and raised in Northern California and moved to L.A. for college. Once I got my B.A., I stayed down there permanently since I knew I wanted to be a screenwriter, and Hollywood was the place to do it. But now the writers are on strike, money’s tight, and I needed a change.” I give my temporary handyman an open palmed shrug, indicating I have nothing else to say.
“Don’t worry, mayor, I’m not here to infiltrate your town and make everyone drink oat milk.”
I register the look on Finn’s face before he even says anything. He looks offended, and his words confirm it.
“I didn’t mean to pry. I would never disrespect you by assuming you came to Havenwood for any nefarious reasons. I just wanted to get to know you.”
My stomach twists with guilt. For the second time today I’ve been an absolute ass to Finn, a mayor just doing his best to get to know the newest member of town. Instead of being kind, or at least polite, I’ve stomped all over his kind gestures because I can’t keep my feelings for him in my pants. Have I even thanked him for fixing the pipe?
“Finn, I’m sorry. I’ve been awful and it has nothing to do with you.” I admit, shaking my head in disappointment of myself. I want to make it up to him and the best way I can think to do it is with food.
“Can I please order us some dinner and we can start over?”
A warm smile brightens his pale face and I feel some of the heavy guilt lift from my shoulders.
“You don’t have to apologize for anything, Courtney and I definitely don’t want to start over.” Heat swirls in my cheeks as I mentally recount our experience in the orchard. Okay, maybe I didn’t want to start over either.
“Dinner sounds great, though. How about we try a local spot? Do you like Italian?”
I contemplate the idea for a beat, only for appearances, knowing deep down that I would accept even if he suggested that we get fast food. But I can’t let him see my eagerness, not yet.
“Sure,” I offer a soft smile, not allowing my excitement to bubble to the surface. I don’t love the idea of going out to eat in public view but I owe him for being so standoffish, even if it’s a vain attempt to protect myself from falling for him.
Besides, it wouldn’t be so bad to be spotted at dinner with the handsome mayor of Havenwood.
He returns my smile, his baby blues drifting down to the humble watch on his wrist. “Let me just wash up at home quickly and I’ll pick you up. How’s 6 p.m.?”
“I’ll be here,” I assure, nibbling nervously on the inside of my cheek.
“Great,” he says, sounding pleasantly surprised at my approval of his plan, as if he half expected me to say no.
I watch as he presses his lips together, trying to suppress the excitement evident in his eyes. As I map his expression, I try to remember the last time Carter was this happy to spend time with me. I rack my brain, trying to recall a time. Had he ever been excited to spend time with me? The answer causes a little pain but also relief knowing that I’m over 3,000 miles from Carter, and Finn is right in front of me.
An altruistic, sexy, genuine man is right in front of me, so why am I not reaching out to snatch him up? Partially because I’m not 100% sure that that’s what Finn even wants, he could just be chivalrous by nature and be acting as the good mayor he is. The other, more pressing, reason is that I’m scared. I don’t want to be burned again, and though I doubt Finn Abernathy has a manipulative bone in his tight body, I can’t allow myself to give in to him fully. Not yet. But tonight is a great place to start, to let him get to know the real Courtney, the unguarded Courtney.
A warm resinous scent sweeps by me as Finn passes to get to the front door, the appetizing smell bringing me back to the present moment. I realize that I’m now the one blocking his exit.
His warm breath fans across my forehead as he squeezes by, his proximity doing funny things to my pussy. I tip my chin up towards him, practically inviting him to take my lips in his, and for a second, it looks like he’s contemplating doing so. He reaches his hand up to my face, his thumb skimming over my bottom lip, his icy eyes locked on the movement.
“See you soon,” he promises softly, stealing a final glance into my eyes before heading out the front door.
“What the hell was that?!” I groan once the door shuts behind him and I’ve managed to regain control of most of my senses. I shake my head in disbelief, physically trying to soothe the emotions stirred in me by our almost-kiss. Finn Abernathy wanted to kiss me; he almost had!
I roll my eyes, trying hard to convince myself that that is not what just happened. Finn does not have feelings for me; he can’t. Can he? If it were possible to feel the electrical currents in your body, I would argue that that is exactly what I had just felt; even Finn, barely touching my lip, had sent every receptor in my body on high alert, each of them thirsting for more of him.
I only have about an hour until the mayor is back on my doorstep, ready to whisk me away to dinner, so I need to make the most of my time. Not only do I need to get myself ready for my not-date, but I also need to make a phone call.
I grab my cell phone from its resting spot on the kitchen counter and dial. It rings a few times before a husky, older voice rattles out a rough “Hello?” in a Boston accent.
“Hi, my name is Courtney Berrycloth and I saw your storefront for rent..”
* * *
My phone call with the storefront’s owner, a man named Mr. Gable, went better than I could’ve hoped for. We ended the call with his promise to give me a start date for the lease as soon as possible.
After the call, it was just my luck that my furniture order arrived while I was supposed to be getting ready for dinner. The delivery driver had left the cardboard boxes on my front porch, forcing me to drag the large boxes of unassembled furniture to their respective locations. I don’t bother to begin construction now, as only thirty minutes separate me from my dinner with the mayor.
When the boxes are all dragged to their respective locations, I raid my suitcase, searching for something acceptable to wear, and settle on a burnt orange dress. It’s not a date, but for some reason, I still contemplate shaving my legs. I’m not putting out, I remind myself, so why shave them? Yet somehow, I end up with the razor in my hand anyway. Things happen, I tell myself; better safe than sorry.
Midway through my rushed shower, I hear a faint, obnoxious screeching coming from above me. Olive. She’s probably made her way through the strawberries I’d given her and is now demanding more like the little princess she thinks she is. I wrap up my shower and change into my pre-selected outfit, I give it a once-over of approval in the mirror before heading to the kitchen to appease the rodent. I pick up a banana and peel it on my way up the attic steps.
I search the tall rafters, finding Olive tucked into a corner, her pitch-black eyes watching me. I set the peeled banana on the table below her, offering her a curtsy.
“You’re welcome.” I turn to leave the dusty attic when something catches my eye from the corner of the room. The moonlight shining in from the window highlights the edges of what looks to be a trunk, its design as archaic as the town of Havenwood itself.
I take a step towards it, curiosity winning me over despite the countless horror movies I’ve written exactly like this.
As I close in on the mystery box, the loud echo of church bells freezes me in my tracks. The doorbell. Finn must be here. I cast the trunk a final look before abandoning it and heading down the stairs, not wanting to keep the mayor waiting.
I place a hand on the doorknob and allow myself a steadying breath. It’s just dinner, I remind myself and my over-eager vagina.
I pull the door open to find the mayor standing on my stoop, his raven hair combed neatly back and wearing a delicious maroon button-up. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and he has a few casual buttons undone. My eyes immediately gravitate to the open space, his light dusting of chest hair threatening to peak out from the relaxed collar, sending my pulse into orbit.
“You look beautiful,” he compliments, smiling at the sight of me.
“I brought these for you,” he says, handing me a gorgeous bouquet of blue hydrangeas that threatens to break my resolve entirely. Instead of admiring the flowers, I admire how his veins pop from his exposed forearms.
“Thank you,” I say after finally remembering the proper words. I accept his flowers graciously, seconds away from pulling him inside the house.
“Let’s get out of here. Now. Please?”