My mom carries a tray of peanut brittle and smiles when she sees me.
“Why didn’t you tell me Aspen was the extra help coming?” I glower.
Aunt Paisley nervously laughs. “I’m sorry. I was going to tell you but never found the opportunity. You know how busy we’ve been—”
“I do, but I was caught off guard by her showing up.”
“You didn’t tell him?” Mom asks with her brow furrowed.
She shrugs. “I forgot. I’m really sorry, Finn.”
I huff but am unable to stay mad at her, especially when I know they’re swamped. “Nothing can be done about it now. I came to tell you both that Aspen thinks the painter and I are dating, so just go with it. Aspen also assumed she was staying at the cottage, so I just had to move every single box of Oakley’s out of there because Aspen had nowhere else to go.”
My aunt slaps her palm against her forehead. “I totally forgot to tell her she needed to find a place to stay. That’s my fault. I can text her and explain what happened, then offer our guest room.”
“No, what’s done is done, but let me make it very clear that Aspen and I are over. I don’t care how much you two like her. She’s engaged. I really hope this wasn’t some sort of sick matchmaking setup to try to get us back together.”
“It wasn’t, I swear. And we knew she was engaged. Her fiancé is driving here next weekend,” Paisley explains. “But why does she think you and Oakley are dating?”
“It’s a long story, but just go with it, please. I don’t want her in my business. I don’t want her knowing anything about my life. So if she mentions me, move the conversation to something else. She was the absolute last person on the planet I wanted to see this week. I’m already stressed without having to deal with her.”
“That’s quite the predicament you got yourself in, Finn,” my mother scolds. “We won’t lie for you, but we won’t offer any info. If she brings it up, we’ll tell her it’s none of her business.” Mom glares at her sister, who finally nods, and I imagine she’ll have a few choice things to say when I leave.
“Secret’s safe with us,” Paisley promises.
“Thank you. Now I have to get Oakley from the inn and bring her to my house. Because of Aspen staying at the cottage, I will have no alone time in my own home.”
Mom grins. “At least Oakley’s a nice girl. She seems very sweet and easy to talk to.” I nearly choke on my tongue.
“You both owe me big.” I check my watch, then head toward the door.
I already know I’m in over my head and am now stuck living with Oakley until she leaves. This has turned into a damn mess, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to clean it up.
CHAPTER FIVE
OAKLEY
Just as I take a huge bite of an apple scone, the door swings open, and Finn walks in wearing his signature scowl. Crumbs fall on my lap, and I quickly dust them off. As he heads toward me with his sleeves rolled to his forearms, I study him. Too bad he has a shitty attitude because he checks all the other boxes—tall, muscular and tan with a perfect smile that he hardly shows.
The way his ex looked at him piqued my curiosity, but it’s not like he’ll share with me what happened. A part of me feels bad that he had to load my things again, but he chose this when he picked me as his fake girlfriend.
“Did you eat dinner?” he asks.
“Not yet. Started with the pastries.” I smirk without admitting that I waited for him.
“Let’s grab some food, then we can head to my place and get you settled.”
“Okay.” I follow him to the kitchen, where his grandma serves each guest. She quickly makes us bowls of beef stew with a side of cornbread. We eat in silence as I scroll through all of the photos I’ve taken over the past couple of days.
The stew is delicious, and I’m appreciative of the hearty meal. I worked up an appetite arguing with Finn all day. He’s more tense than usual, and it’s no secret why.
When we’re finished, he takes our dishes to the kitchen. I stand, taking another scone with me to eat in the truck.
On our way there, he maintains a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel. Frustration rolls off him in waves as we pull up to his house. He kills the engine, then turns to me.
“Why did you have to let Aspen have her way? You should’ve just stood your ground, and she would’ve had to go somewhere else.”
My mouth falls open. “Are you kidding me? Don’t forget that you randomly volunteered me to be your girlfriend for some reason. What you should be doing right now is thanking me for saving your grumpy, lying ass. I could’ve called you out and humiliated you, but I didn’t. Maybe I should’ve because you’ve been nothing but rude to me since the moment we met. You’re the last person to deserve my kindness.”
He sucks in a deep breath and gets out of the truck, but I don’t let him get away that easy.
“I was trying to help you because it was clear she was getting under your skin. Your reaction made it obvious that the breakup didn’t go too well.”
He doesn’t acknowledge anything I’ve said as he unlocks the front door.
“Seriously? No response to that?” I ask, following him inside and looking around.
“What do you want me to say, Oakley?” He turns with a scowl.
“Forget it.” I give up, knowing this conversation is going nowhere. He’ll never admit I did him a solid or that he fucked up.
Finn goes back to the truck and starts unloading my boxes.
I study the inside of the A-frame structured home that looks like it was built a hundred years ago like everything else on the farm. There are many windows, and some overlook the patio area with a firepit and a view to die for.
Almost every flat surface is white except for the dark hardwood floors. He has a small kitchen, a tiny living room with a TV on the wall, a coffee table, and a small couch. My eyes trail up the set of stairs that leads to the loft. From what I can tell, it’s his bedroom. The only room with a door is the bathroom. There isn’t a lot of space, and the thought has me stressing out about where my painting supplies will fit.
“Great,” I mumble, wondering if it’s too late to tell Aspen I changed my mind.
After several trips back and forth, all of my things are in.
Finn glances around. “You have too much shit. Make sure it stays out of my way.”
“Not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m here to do a job, not kiss your ass.”
I start unpacking, which aggravates me to do it all over again. I take my time setting up my paints and brushes. Finn watches me for ten minutes but eventually goes into the bathroom. A moment later, I hear the water running. Now that he’s not micromanaging my every move, I decide to help myself to a tour since he was too rude to offer me one.
I sneak up the stairs to get a full view of his king-sized bed, which he didn’t make before he left this morning. Dirty clothes are on the floor, and his nightstand has half-full glasses of water. I carefully make my way to the bottom floor and plop down on the couch. I push my hand into the cushions, and they’re too firm. No way will I be able to sleep on cushions filled with cement, and I start to panic about what I’m going to do.