Hot Mess - Elise Faber Page 0,49
qualify for a big enough mortgage without Brian’s income on the application.
“Finn.”
“When will the divorce be final?”
“Before all this?” She was doing some mental calculations, trying to figure out if she could pull money out of her retirement in order to borrow a smaller amount. “We’d reached the settlement already, waited the processing time, were just waiting for the papers to come through, but I got the call they were ready yesterday.”
“Call your lawyer and sign them.”
She frowned, still figuring out numbers even as her gut sank with the reality that there would be absolutely no way she could afford to pay market value for her place. “I’m planning on it.”
“Do it today,” Finn said. “Cut the tie.”
Her eyes shot up. “I don’t like your tone, Finn Stoneman.”
“Just be done with your ex already. Move on. Move forward.”
“What is your problem?” she snapped, glaring at him. “You somehow bought my house without me knowing and I’m trying to figure out how I could possibly afford to buy it back. Which I don’t think is possible, so I’ll need to move anyway. And further that, you haven’t once given me orders, so I’m not going to let you start doing that today, of all days.”
He smiled. “There you are, Blue Eyes.”
Her teeth clicked together. “What?”
“I was worried there for a second.” He closed the distance between them, pulled her close. “I know you’ve had a lot of promises from the men in your life, but please believe this one.” His eyes locked with hers. “I’m not going to screw you over. This house is yours. I wouldn’t take it from you. Not now. Not ever.”
“But I can’t afford to pay market value—”
“You can’t afford the price of one batch of peanut butter milk?”
“What?”
“Or for a dollar or whatever minimum amount we need to make it legal?”
“Finn—”
“I don’t need the money. I’ll keep renting the house next door or buy another place. I don’t need this one, and I definitely don’t need market value.” He cupped her cheek. “I have enough, baby. I don’t need this, too.”
She sighed, pulled back. “Finn, I can’t let you give me this house.”
“How about you just give me you, and we’ll call it even?”
Her breath froze in her lungs.
“Sign the divorce papers,” he said. “And pick me, instead. Let me be the one in your life. Let me be the one who walks with you and Rylie to school. Let me be a part of your lives, and that’s all the payment I need.”
“Finn—”
“I’ve had the happiest days of my life here. With you and Rylie. I feel again. I know you better than any woman I’ve dated, no matter the duration, and you know me just as much. I know everything won’t be smooth sailing, and it’ll be hard when I’m filming, but I can plan my schedule for more time off.” He brushed her hair off her forehead. “I can travel less, stay out of the public eye more so the media attention drops off. I can change my life so that it fits in better with yours and Rylie’s. I—”
“I don’t want you to change.”
He blinked, worry creeping into his expression.
“I love you. I know we’ve had this ideal sequestered time here. I know things will get harder if and when the media shows up.” She took a breath. “But I also know that I know you better than I ever knew my husband. You’re sweet and funny and kind and . . . you’re everything I could have ever dreamed of in a man.” Her lips curved. “Even if you are missing those thirty pounds of muscle.”
His mouth dropped open.
She gently tipped it closed. “I’m kidding about the muscle,” she said. “But I’m not kidding about loving you. I thought I would be alone forever, and then you just came knocking on my door with a bucket of sand toys, and how could I not fall for you?”
“Blue Eyes,” he said. “What am I going to do with you?”
“What do you mean?” A spike of nerves. Was it too soon? Of course, it was too soon. She was an idiot and—
“I’ve been waiting for the right moment to tell you I love you, working it up in this big speech, so you’d hear everything else and not just that and get scared off, and then you just . . . beat me to the punch.” His lips twitched. “Now, I have to be the loser who just goes, blah, blah, blah, I