Page 26 of The Neighborly Thing To Do
And after he drops me off at work the next morning, he does our grocery shopping with a confidence I appreciate. He doesn’t run over to me five times to ask what we need. He doesn’t ask me to do it. No, he just gets it done, and when he comes through my register, he has everything we need for the week.
After I ring him up and we quibble for a second over who’s paying, he leans across the counter and kisses me soundly. I blink in stupefied confusion when he pulls back, staring at his mouth.
This isn’t the first time we kissed, but every time stuns me. I haven’t kissed anyone in so long, so maybe that explains why it feels so surprisingly good.
Or maybe it’s the way this man gives his all to every kiss, like it means the world to him, like he needs to consume me. I bite my lip and look away to collect myself.
“Did you see the bulletin board by the door?” he asks, bringing me sharply back into the present.
Considering that I’m the one who updates it, of course I have. “What part of it?”
“The end of summer event. It’s soon.”
Oh, that. That flyer’s been up for a month, and it’s kind of endearing that Finn only noticed it today. “Yeah. I know about it.”
“We should go.”
I stare at him. I can’t prove it, considering I’m still looking at him, but I’d bet good money that everyone else in the store is staring at him too. Since when does Finn Delaney go to town events? I honestly couldn’t pick a single thing besides town meetings that he’s ever gone to.
“You want to go?” I double-check.
“I think we should,” he says, smiling in a way that makes my insides twist. “Since people know about us now and everything.”
Ah. It’s one more opportunity for him to help me out, for him to make this town see me as his wife. He’s exceptionally dedicated to this charade, and I do appreciate it, even if it makes me feel like a liar.
“Alright,” I agree softly, because what else can I say? He’s not wrong. Every time we’re seen together helps sell this image.
It’ll be my first town event without Georgia. I had no intention of going; there’s not much there for me without seeing her enjoy herself. But with Finn, maybe it’ll be bearable.
“Sounds good. Also, I’ll make dinner tonight,” he says, scooping up the grocery bags.
“I can help,” I say automatically.
He stops moving. “I know you can,” he agrees. “But I can do it too. You take the night off, wife. Relax a little.”
There are people in line behind him. That’s the only reason he’s talking like that, calling mewife. I have to repeat that to myself multiple times as he walks out of the store.
Finn cooks on the grill I never use, making us grilled zucchini and steak tips. It’s still warm, so we set up on the picnic table in the yard, enjoying the late summer evening. Finn’s long since shed his shirt, and I subtly admire the deep V of his hips under the setting sun, resting my elbow on the picnic table as we chat and the fireflies come out.
There aren’t many more days like this left; it’ll cool down soon. Fall always comes rapidly around here. To tell the truth, I’ve been dreading the end of this summer because it would mean G is gone. I’m so damn proud of her, but I’m at loose ends without her. But thanks to Finn, it hasn’t been as bad as I feared.
Oh, it’s still bad. I can’t forget the looming town meeting, or the fact that we’re lying to people every day. But he’s like a little bright spot in my day, and I know I couldn’t do this without him.
Georgia has been my only partner in crime for so long now, and it’s different. She would fistfight the town for me, do anything she could to help me, and would be my number one supporter, but G is a kid growing and learning. She doesn’t know how to be all the things I need, and I wouldn’t want her to. It wasn’t her job to be that for me; it was my job to take care of her. The fact that she doesn’t know how to magically be whatI need is probably the most positive sign that I did an okay job raising her.
But Finn is different. He’sthere, and he buys groceries and does chores before I even think about them needing to be done. I don’t need to remind him to go to bed on time because he’s a grown man, and he never adds extra work to my plate. Not to mention the monumental way he’s stepped up for me.
“How’s work going?” he asks over dinner. He eats a truly tremendous amount of food, having already stuffed down the equivalent of my entire plate and having half his meal left to eat. “Anyone giving you trouble?”
“People are curious, Finn.” Invasively curious, maybe, but they don’t intend to be rude. “Although pretty much everyone is still shocked you chose me. I’m working to not take it as an insult.”
He snorts. “They’re wondering why someone as great as you chose me, Cassidy.”
“No, they’re not.” It’s sweet he’d say that, though. But I know most of them are thinking exactly what Hugh thought at Donnel’s that night. They think Finn is making a mistake, and that he’ll end up in the same situation my dad did, having a kid that turns out to be human that he’ll want nothing to do with.
I’ve been trying to not think too hard about that.
“Well, they should be,” he says stubbornly, and I can’t say how much I appreciate that, his unfailing belief that I’m some sort of catch.
