Page 7 of The Neighborly Thing To Do
I barely know this man. He’s a fine neighbor—never causes any problems, no loud parties, takes care of his yard, says hi, all of that—but that doesn’t mean we’re friends.
And then… married?
“Why?” I ask. It’s about the only thing I can think of. What could he be getting out of this?
He shrugs those big shoulders that honestly look like boulders. He’s so damn big. I forget that sometimes. Finn and hisparents are the only gargoyles I know, so I don’t know if he’s big or average for his species, but he ishuge.
Those horns curl up out of his dark hair, twisting vaguely backward, and they give him a few extra inches on top of the already massive frame. My eyes unwillingly trail up his body, taking in every inch of the man who offered to marry me in what feels like some sort of fever dream.
Hey, there’s an idea. Maybe this whole day has been a weird fever dream, and I’ll wake up after the longest sleep of my life with none of this having happened.
“You should be able to stay,” he says, fidgeting just inside my doorway. “They have no right to throw you out. Especially not forHugh.”
“You know him?” I ask, trying to do some math in my head.
“We were in school at the same time.”
Right. They went to school together. I’m pretty sure Hugh is in his early forties. I’m not the nineteen year old who moved in next door anymore, but I’m definitely younger than Finn. Why is he willing to entertain this idea?
He’s right that my mother was allowed to stay here. If I’d turned out to be a shifter like my dad and they’d stayed married, I assume she’d have been allowed to stay as long as she wanted. The idea has merit. But it’s a lot to ask of him if he gets nothing in return.
“I don’t think we can just tell them we’re going to get married,” I say, like I’m really considering this. “They’re not goingto accept our word. It’d have to be legal.” I watch him, trying to see how he reacts to that.
He nods seriously, like he already thought of it. “We could make Davies do it as soon as you want,” he says. “It’d be legal. And I’d like a chance to talk to him, anyway.”
I blink at the non-sequitur. “About what?” A wedding isn’t exactly the best time to quibble about property taxes or whatever.
“About how he’s not going to threaten to kick you out again. Hugh left town for twenty years. He doesn’t get to threaten you for a house you rightfully own, that he clearly never wanted to live in before.”
“He doesn’t want to live here,” I tell him. “He wants to knock it down and build aboutique hotel.”
“Awhat?”
“No, you heard right.” So that piece of the story hasn’t made it around yet, huh? “He sees it as profitable.”
Finn’s face twists in something that looks like disgust. “Well, fuck him. That’s horrendous. We don’t need a damned hotel.”
“He says it’d bring tourism to Hearthstone.”
“Do I look like I give a shit about tourists?” he asks, and no; Finn looks like the last person who would want tourists in his town. Having a hotel of them right next to his home might be his idea of hell. “We don’t have a tourism industry. We need housing for hard-working community members. Like you, Cassidy.”
There’s a bizarre burning behind my eyes. Am I about tocry? That feels ridiculous, and I bite the inside of my cheek like the pain can stop the tears. I needed to hear those words. I needed someone to validate how I’ve been feeling all day.
“You wouldn’t hate being married to me?” I ask, voice smaller than I like. “I mean, we could eventually annul it, but I don’t know how long we’d have to keep it up before they lose interest in throwing me out of town.” Maybe Hugh gets frustrated and leaves and the idea never comes up again. We can only hope. But I don’t know how long that might take.
“I’m not worried about it.”
He should be. He’s a good-looking guy, even has that tortured artist thing going for him. I’m sure there are plenty of people who would line up to be with him, and I don’t want to cramp his style.
“Listen—I’m not going to force this on you. You can say no. I just don’t want you to feel like you don’t know all your options.”
The fact that Finn so selflessly names himself as anoptiontouches something in me. “Caroline Summers offered me a nanny job today,” I tell him, so he knows I’m not completely helpless. “It comes with room and board, so I wouldn’t have to leave.”
He blinks at me, processing that. “Okay. Do you want to be her nanny?” he asks, voice gentle in a way I didn’t know he had in him.
“No,” I admit, my throat thick with yet more restrained tears. “I want—I want my fucking house, Finn.”
To my horror, the tears spill over.Fuck, I don’t want to cry in front of this man. I barely know him. He’s trying to do me a favor, and I look like a fragile, messy loser. He’s going to withdraw his offer so fast—
