Fifty-Two
No One Says No to Dessert
Finan works his kitchen magic—arguably the best chicken fettuccini I’ve had in North America—and we share a beer. I need a clear head to prepare for tomorrow. When I kiss him good night, he offers to follow me home, to stay over, “for safety,” he says, but I promise I will scream super loud if any bad guys show up. Plus, I have Humboldt, and he’s the biggest, baddest guy on the island.
“I’m heading directly to farm B in the morning, so I’ll text you to check in,” Finan says, his hands around my head as he kisses me on his front porch. “Keep your phone close.”
“I’ll be fine. Thank you for dinner.” I kiss him again, though my heart’s not in it—I’m too distracted by what I have yet to accomplish tonight.
Once Big Dog and I are secure in our cabin, I fl
