Purgatory, West Virginia
April 5
Back at the Gingerbread House, Finn watched Charlotte working on her laptop. She had indulged his concern and let Finn take her to the ER, where she and the baby were given a clean bill of health. The doctor had given her some sample packets of ibuprofen and suggested she rest.
Now she was cross-legged on the couch, lost in some new project. She lifted her blue gaze to his and smiled. Finn had spent the last hour trying and failing to leash his libido. That little grin was all the green light he needed. Sitting beside her, he moved her hair off her shoulder and kissed her neck.
“Stop distracting me,” she scolded.
Finn slipped a hand up her skirt. “I think that computer is distracting you from the more important stuff.” He pushed her panties aside, and she gasped.
“You may be right.” She closed the laptop.
“Jesus, you’re soaked.”
“Hormones and a hot man are a very arousing combination.” Charlotte fell back on the couch, and Finn followed. Opening his fly, he wasted no time pushing inside her.
Charlotte hissed at the size of him, then moaned at the pleasure. Slow love-making turned frenzied. Finn pistoned his hips, and she met him stroke for stroke. Finn plunged deeper, sweat beaded on Charlotte’s brow. She reached up and stroked his scarred cheek. Her body gripped his, and they shattered. Finn fell beside her on the small couch and pulled her body over his.
“I love you, Charlotte Devlin.”
“I love you, too, Finn McIntryre.”
For a long moment, they regarded each other with eyes filled with meaning.
“Good,” Finn said. “Phase one of my plan is complete.” He winked.
Twitch pushed back and eyeballed him. “And what is the ultimate goal of this plan?”
“Charlotte, will you marry me?”
“What?” she sputtered. “No, Finn. We are nowhere near ready for that. You’re not ready, and I am sure as hell not ready. Look, I love you, and I know, I know you love me. But you can’t just scrub the past six years clean like you’re erasing a chalkboard. We have a lot of work to do. Love is easy for us. It’s the trust that’s going to take work. Then, maybe, we can discuss marriage.”
Finn leaned in, kissed her neck then moved his lips to her ear. “And that is my master plan.” He stood with Charlotte still in his arms, set her down, and grabbed his jacket. “Should we go see what Auggie thinks of our idea?”
She picked up her cardigan, and Finn helped her into it. “You are infuriating, but in a surprisingly uplifting way.” She smacked him on the arm. “And quit proposing when you don’t mean it.”
Pulling her into his arms, Finn kissed her. “I may not be ready for it, Charlotte, but I mean it.”
With his hand in hers, Finn pulled Twitch toward the door just as a sharp knock came from the other side.
Fern’s nephew stood with a leash in both hands, looking apologetic. “Fern passed last night.” He tilted his head toward the bulldogs, who were now lying down on the porch. “I don’t think she’ll curse you from the grave if you don’t want ‘em. I can take them to the pound.”
Finn took the leashes. “A deal’s a deal.”
With a half-wave, Fern’s nephew turned to go. Pausing at the porch steps, he looked at Venable’s little angel Finn had finished whittling. “A lot of people in this town dying with regrets. Makes you want to…” He looked skyward, searching for the word. “Reassess.”
Finn turned back to Charlotte. “Come on. Let’s take the locket to the cemetery, then go find Auggie.”
“A man with a plan.” She stepped to his side.
“A master plan.” He swatted her backside, sending her scurrying out the door with a squawk.
Finn shifted his feet in the soft grass when he felt Charlotte’s small hand slip into his. For the first time in years, he felt that same sensation of rightness settle over him. He stared at the gravestones, Annabeth and Venable Moss side-by-side. After speaking with their daughter, Clementine, they had decided on this course of action. Clementine confessed she had forgotten about the trinket and hadn’t known about her reclusive father’s obsession. She had happily agreed with Charlotte’s suggestion.
At the edge of the woods in the distance, Elvis appeared, pacing a long swath through the shrubs.
“Here.” Charlotte dangled the locket.