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Finley's on my porch, a vision in a flowing sundress that hugs her curves in all the right places. Her chestnut waves are loose and framing her face.
The small details catch my eye—a delicate silver necklace resting against her collarbone and her toes painted a soft pink in her strappy sandals.
She holds up a bag of popcorn and a six-pack of my favorite local craft beer, a grin spreading across her face. Her eyes sparkle with mischief, hinting at the fun we're about to have.
“I come bearing snacks,” she says.
I smile back, warmth blooming in my chest at the thoughtfulness of her gesture. During one of our long conversations, I mentioned my love of popcorn and how it's my go-to snack for movie nights.
And the craft beer—it's from a small brewery in town that I've been raving about for weeks, ever since I discovered its unique flavors and smooth finish.
It means so much that Finley remembered and took the time to pick up these little things for me.
I step aside, gesturing for her to come in. As she brushes past me, the scent of vanilla and sugar follows.
It's a scent I associate with happiness—stolen moments in her bakery and soft kisses under the stars.
“You didn't have to do this,” I murmur, taking the snacks from her hands and setting them aside.
Finley looks up at me, her eyes soft and full of an emotion I'm almost afraid to name.
“I wanted to,” she says. “I wanted to make you happy.”
I pull her into my arms, relishing how she fits perfectly against me, like two puzzle pieces finally coming together.
“You do,” I murmur, nuzzling the soft skin of her neck.
The world narrows down to this moment, to the feel of her body pressed against mine, the way her breath hitches as I trail my fingers along her spine.
“I've been thinking about this all day,” I murmur, my lips brushing the shell of her ear. “About having you all to myself.”
Finley shivers in my arms, her hands coming up to rest on my chest. I can feel the heat of her touch through my shirt, igniting a fire in my veins.
“Is that so?” she whispers, her voice low and teasing. “And what exactly did you have in mind?”
I grin, nipping at her earlobe. “I thought we could start with a little of this…”
Slowly, I lower my head, my lips hovering just a breath away from hers.
“Jake,” she murmurs, her eyes fluttering closed.
That's all the invitation I need before capturing her lips. The kiss starts slow and tender, a gentle exploration, but quickly deepens into something more urgent, more passionate.
Finley melts into me, her fingers tangling in my hair as she pulls me impossibly closer, parting her lips and inviting me in.
I groan into her mouth, my hands roaming her curves, mapping out every dip and swell. Her skin feels like silk beneath my calloused fingers.
Finley's body is soft and pliant against mine. I can't resist reaching down to cup her perfect ass. I'm hard as a rock, aching for her.
She gasps as I grind my hips against hers, letting her feel how much I want her.
All I can think about is carrying her upstairs, laying her out on my bed, and worshipping every inch of her.
But I force myself to slow down, to savor this moment.
As much as I want to skip to dessert, Finley deserves to be romanced and treated like a treasure. She’s been hurt before and is cautious with her heart.
The last thing I want to do is make her believe she can't trust me.
