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My chest aches so much that I press a hand against it.
This man is too much. Too kind. Too … everything.
How would my life have been different if I had met Finn instead of Jordan? If I was supported like this instead of belittled and shamed? If I always felt this strong and not broken?
Memories I’ve spent years avoiding come back in soft waves. But instead of slicing me open like they used to, they feel strangely distant. Like there’s a buffer—a tall, handsome, kind buffer—between them and me.
For a split second, I consider saying this aloud. Telling Finn that I was married and that Jordan fucked me all the way up, and that Jordan’s the reason I’m so reluctant to consider getting serious with him. But I don’t. Because admitting this to him would mean telling him the details—the embarrassing, humiliating, nasty details that he doesn’t need to know.
That I don’t want him to know.
I just want him to know me as this Poppy Quinn … his girl.
Finn pulls me closer, dropping a kiss to my lips, then he stands. “Okay, this little thing and I are going. Do not pick up a damn thing while we’re gone. Got it?”
I smile, knowing there’s no use in arguing. Somehow, he’ll win. I’ll probably even let him.
“You know she hasn’t napped today, right?” I ask, standing with him and resting my head on his chest. “I got a little taste of a sleepy toddler today, and an angry linebacker has nothing on her.”
He chuckles. “You do listen. Nice linebacker reference.”
“Well, you know …” I laugh. “I can keep her here.”
He taps my nose, ignoring that altogether. “Steak, potatoes, and salad good with you?”
“It’s perfect.”
“I’ll only let her get a quick nap in if she does fall asleep,” he says with a wicked grin. “Because she’s sleeping tonight so I can enjoy my dessert.”
“Amen.”
He laughs, carrying Sunny to the garage. In some respects, I don’t understand Finn Miller … but then I realize that I do.
I’m me because of my experiences. I’ve picked up pieces of the things I’ve done and the people I’ve met. Mostly, I’ve learned that family is everything, loyalty is required, and that if you don’t keep a neat line around your heart, someone will erase it, plant a bomb, and blow it up.
Finn is no different. Only his life has taught him that you love unconditionally, you keep your word, and when the game is on the line, you carry the ball across the finish line, even if you have to carry a whole team on your back to get there.
This is Finn. The real Finn. The Finn I’ve always known, who has never blinked when things get messy or when I make them difficult … the man who understands both the good and the bad that come with me.
As I watch him walk out the door with our little goddaughter babbling in his ear, I have to consider that he might be carrying a piece of my heart with him. And decide whether I ever want it back.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
Finn
“Everything looks good,” Hannah says, taking a step back from me. “Your range of motion is pretty solid, and your shoulder looks great. I don’t see anything that should really give you a lot of trouble at camp.”
I hop off the table. “That’s exactly what I like to hear, Hannah.”
“I bet. But I am serious. Make sure you stay on top of things. Make sure you’re stretching. You’re drinking a lot of water. You’re getting sleep.” She lifts a brow. “You’re not twenty-five anymore, Miller.”
I gasp like I’m offended. “You know, I liked you better when you just told me that everything looked good.”
She shakes her head, clearly not entertained by me. But then again, if I had to deal with an entire team of football players, I probably wouldn’t be that entertained either.
“I’m paid to tell you the truth,” she says. “Now get out of here. I have somebody else coming in behind you.”