Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
“Take me home now.” Breathless, Harrison gazed up at me with glassy eyes.
“You and the ducks.” I laughed, but he was right.
It was home now in a way that it hadn’t been before. He filled my place with a special sort of energy, turned the cottage back into its intended purpose as a little romantic getaway, and filled my life with an affection I hadn’t realized I needed so desperately. Hell, sometime in the last few weeks, high thread count sheets and a fluffy featherbed mattress topper thing had appeared in the loft. He softened my edges, made me appreciate little details more.
He’d said that he wanted to be a place I could land, and he was almost literally what with the fluffy bedding. But he was also a launching pad because knowing he was waiting for me allowed me to spring forward and get stuff done. With him, I could do more, precisely because I didn’t have to do it all. And for that, I truly did love him.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Harrison
“Happy birthday!” Yet another person I barely knew, a hockey-playing friend of one of my clerks, wished me well.
The ever-changing love lives of my staff were an endless source of humor for Finn and me, and it seemed like a number of them had brought dates to my party. The wine bar was also crowded with people I’d met over the last six months, including a number of patrons of the store who had become friends. Funny how moving to a smaller city had actually grown my social circle by leaps and bounds.
We’d closed early for the party, but the place was still hopping. Tanner and Auden and the other bar staff were keeping busy with drink refills, and we’d set up a table with snacks along the back wall. Book-shaped cookies from a nearby bakery featured prominently, as did mini-quiches from Finn’s and my favorite place. Rachel and my mother had insisted on a Happy Birthday banner over the snacks table, and we had Vino and Veritas swag as party favors.
“It’s a nice party,” my mother observed, taking a break from flitting around the room to come stand near me.
“It is.” I was distracted, checking the door yet again for the one guest I most wanted to see, who wasn’t here yet.
“He’ll be here.”
“I know.” But I kept right on scanning the door. Finn’s mom and Rachel were already at the party, along with his other sisters and their flock of children who were roaring through the cookies.
I was about to give up and dig out my phone, when a familiar broad shape appeared in the entryway, stamping off his boots. Outside, early snow reminded us that the winter holidays were right around the corner, and I hurried over to Finn while he was still unwinding his scarf.
“You made it.” I made no effort to contain my happiness, beaming at him. Now the party truly felt like a celebration.
“I did.” Finn brushed a kiss across my cheek. “Wouldn’t miss it. Had a pipe freeze earlier in the day, but I’m here.”
“You are.” He was. We both were. The farm and my business had a way of sucking up all available time and energy, but we never failed to find ways to connect. Stolen moments and intentional breaks that added up to us both being present in a way I’d never had in a relationship before. I was here, in my life, and the fact that Finn was too was the best thing ever. “Thank you.”
“No, thank you.” Finn’s second kiss found my mouth and lingered as his hands pulled me close. His face was still cold from the Vermont November, and I rubbed my nose against his as he broke the kiss.
“This is an exclusive invite-only party. I’m just happy to be on the list.”
“You were first, and you know it.” I’d actually ended up using different invitations than the one I’d given Finn. That one felt too personal, too meaningful to share. But we’d had Auden and Imprescott run off some very pretty old-fashioned letterpress invitations with the Vino and Veritas logo. Privately, I was hoping for more opportunities to give them some business, and I alternated between hope for the future and trying to live simply in this moment.
“I like being first.” Finn gave me a pointed look as he pulled out a small, wrapped box from his coat pocket. “I brought you something.”
“You didn’t have to get me anything.” I’d been saying that all evening, but I truly meant it because he was the only gift I’d ever need.
His sisters had bestowed all manner of handknits on me, and other friends had arrived with various artisanal local goods, ranging from honey to candles to soap. I was blessed beyond measure, and I didn’t need to open Finn’s box to know that.