twelve
Lighthouse Inn
November 9
7:30 a.m.
Finn had a carrier with coffees in one hand, a bag from Paula’s Pastries hanging from the other, and under his arm, his briefcase. But standing outside Ava’s cottage door, he realized he had no way of knocking.
“b****y hell,” he muttered, looking around for somewhere to set the carrier. But without options, used his knee to make a passable knocking sound.
He’d just about decided she’d gone to a morning exercise class when the door was yanked open, “Finn!” Ava exclaimed breathlessly.
She had on one of the hotel robes, her hair was wrapped in a towel, and something green was smeared on her face. But she’d never looked more beautiful.
“Did I forget something?” she asked, tightening the belt around her slim waist.
“Breakfast?” He gave her a c
