Chapter 7

CHAPTERSEVEN

Brock found himself smiling like a lunatic as he walked toward The Sweet Tooth. The bakery was certainly aptly named, as his Finley definitely had a sweet tooth. He couldn’t wait to see her reaction to the gift he’d brought her this morning. It had been three days since he’d picked her up from her girls’ night, and he was looking forward to this evening.

Sandra had invited them to come to Sunny Side Up for a special themed dinner menu she was trying out. It was geared especially for the tourists who were in town to hunt Bigfoot, and everything on the menu had something to do with the legendary creature.

Hotdogs were now called Big Footlongs. There was Yeti Spaghetti, Mountain Meatloaf, a Sasquatch Sandwich, Bigfoot Burrito, Sasquatch Burger, Bigfoot Steak and Eggs, Bigfoot Balls (which were sausage balls with jalapenos and cheese), and Squatched Potatoes and Sas-squash as sides. There were several more items on offer, and Brock couldn’t help but be impressed by Sandra’s imagination. He had a feeling the menu would be a huge hit.

Impressive or not, he still thought it was hokey as hell, but he could tell Finley was enamored with the idea. This would be their third official date, but honestly they were well past counting what number they were on. Spending every evening with her was definitely the highlight of his days. While he enjoyed spending time with her in the mornings before her shop opened, he liked having her complete attention better.

They would usually watch TV, snuggle on the couch…and of course, there were the long make-out sessions.

And tonight was the night he was going to move their physical relationship forward. It wasn’t fair to either of them to keep calling things to a halt just before they’d reached the point of no return, ending their nights in frustration.

If asked a couple months ago if he thought Finley would be so enthusiastic about being physical with him, he would’ve said no way. Her extreme shyness had made him think he was going to have to carefully ease her into any kind of physical relationship. But that wasn’t the case at all.

Once she’d gotten over her initial timidity, and after he’d convinced her there wasn’t anything about her that he wasn’t attracted to, it was almost as if she’d emerged from a self-imposed protective bubble. She’d blossomed right in front of his eyes—and Brock couldn’t wait to experience everything she had to offer.

So tonight, after their dinner, he was taking her back to his place. He’d washed his sheets, bought flowers for her, which were sitting on his counter, and he even made sure to buy an extra toothbrush and Finley’s brand of shampoo and conditioner. He figured it would be less awkward to be prepared with the personal items than to tell her to pack a bag.

It was a surprise for Brock to realize he was actually nervous. It had been a while since he’d been with a woman, and even longer since he’d had deep feelings for a sexual partner. He wanted Finley to be comfortable, to not worry about anything but relaxing enough to allow him to give her pleasure.

But that was tonight. For now, he had a surprise for her this morning, and that was the reason for the smile on his face.

After he’d knocked on the door—he’d insisted she keep it locked, even though she hated that he had to wait outside for her to let him in—Brock impatiently shifted back and forth as she emerged from the kitchen.

“Good morning,” she said cheerily after she’d opened the door.

That was something that probably would’ve annoyed him with anyone other than Finley—she was definitely a morning person, and she was always so cheerful when he saw her.

“Morning,” he said, leaning toward her.

She immediately went up on her tiptoes and eagerly met him halfway. She tasted like cinnamon, as if she’d been tasting her creations, which she probably had. Brock wanted nothing more than to pick her up, carry her into the kitchen, and bend her over one of her counters, but not for their first time.

Besides, she probably wouldn’t be too excited about the prospect of him fucking her in the kitchen anyway. She was a stickler for cleanliness, which he highly approved of. The last thing he wanted to think about was someone’s ass being on the surface where his food was prepared in the restaurants where he liked to eat. But that didn’t mean the fantasy would leave his brain.

“What are you so smiley about this morning?” she asked, keeping one hand on his arm after their kiss ended.

“I have a present for you,” he said, holding out a plastic bag she’d obviously missed.

“Oh! For me? You don’t need to buy me things,” she said, but her eyes were sparkling and she couldn’t take her gaze from the bag.

Brock chuckled. His Fin liked gifts. He’d have to remember that. “It’s not a huge deal, but something you said the other day made me think of you when I was at the store.”

She took the bag eagerly and peered inside. Then she burst out laughing, and upon seeing the joy on her face, it was all Brock could do not to haul her against him and take her right then and there.

Shit, he was a goner. He’d never been this eager to sleep with anyone before.

Still chuckling, Finley began to pull the candy bars he’d bought out of the bag. Snickers, several kinds of Milky Way bars, Twix, 100 Grand, Caramello, Whatchamacallit, Rolos, and Reese’s Take 5.

“Wow,” she said.

“You said you liked candy bars with caramel,” he said with a shrug.

“I do! Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome,” he said.

Then Finley’s wide grin became a little more calculating. “Does this mean what I think it means?” she asked.

“It means I was at the store and was thinking about you,” Brock said, not wanting to pressure her in any way.

“Which is super sweet. But I’m hoping maybe it also means that the winner of that silly bet will be determined tonight…”

Her cheeks reddened as she spoke, and Brock could feel his heart start to beat faster in his chest. He took the bag from her, making sure all the candy was safely inside for her to indulge in later. Placing the stash on a nearby table, he took her in his arms once more. One hand shifted to her nape, and the other pressed on the small of her back.

His erection was hard against her belly, but she didn’t seem to mind in the least if the way she rocked against him was any indication. “I want you. That’s not a surprise. Would I like to finally make you mine tonight? Yes. But there’s no timetable or schedule, Fin. If it happens, it happens. If we wait, that’s okay too. I want our relationship to progress naturally, not to fit into any predetermined slot or meet some stupid milestone that someone else thinks we should be meeting.”

She smiled up at him and when her fingers caressed the nape of his neck, he shivered almost violently. He’d never realized how sensitive he was there.

Finley seemed to know how she was affecting him, because her thumb stroked his hairline lazily as she spoke. “Agreed. And I want you too. I hate having to leave at the end of the night or watching you leave. I want to go to sleep with you beside me, and wake up the same way.”

Then she stiffened, and her fingers stopped moving. Hell, it was almost as if she stopped breathing. “Unless you don’t want to spend the night,” she said uncomfortably. “I mean, I can understand that.”

“There’s nothing I want more than to hold you all night and wake up to your beautiful face in the morning,” he said quickly, reassuring her.

She sighed in relief. “Good,” Finley said quietly. “Um…should I bring an overnight bag when you pick me up for dinner?”

Fuck. His dick twitched against her. “If you want. But I picked up some toiletries for you, so you won’t need to pack any. And if you wanted to wear one of my shirts in the morning, I’m completely on board with that.”

Her eyes got wide. “You picked up toiletries for me?” she questioned.

“Yes,” Brock said simply.

“Wow, um. Okay. And as much as I want to wear your shirt, I’m thinking that’s probably not appropriate for wandering around Fallport.”

“Maybe not. But I’ll enjoy it,” Brock said with a grin.

She laughed.

Their intimate conversation was interrupted by a small tap on the front door. Turning, Brock saw Davis on the sidewalk with a smirk on his face.

He kissed Finley chastely one more time before stepping away.

Her gaze went to his crotch, and it was her turn to smirk. “I’ll get the door. That looks…uncomfortable,” she told him.

Brock chuckled. “I’m used to it,” he answered with a shrug. “I feel as if this is my natural state when I’m around you.”

“Then we’ll see what we can do about that later, huh?”

“You aren’t helping,” Brock said with a grimace.

She giggled again and headed for the front door.

Things felt different between them as the morning went on. More relaxed. As if now that they’d decided to actually consummate their relationship, the tension was lessened. Even Davis seemed to be in an especially lighthearted mood, probably thanks to their ease in the kitchen.

There were more customers than usual that morning, and Brock had no problem sticking around to help Liam. He’d always thought Fallport was a small town, but he was amazed to realize half of the customers who came in this morning, he didn’t even know. Of course, some were tourists picking up a sweet breakfast treat before they headed out into the woods, but many more were locals.

And Finley seemed to know them all. From the principal of the high school, to housewives and local business people, to the PTA parents. When she delivered more treats to the cases, she greeted everyone by name. And when she didn’t know someone, she quickly got to know them. Asking questions about their morning, what their plans were for the day, things like that.

It was hard for Brock to believe she’d ever been shy with him. She was a natural with people, and it made him smile every time he saw her interact with her customers. She wasn’t great with people who were upset about something, but Brock and Liam had no problem handling those customers. Luckily, there weren’t many people who were in shit moods. How could they be, when Finley’s desserts were always perfectly made and enough to lift anyone’s spirits?

He didn’t get a chance to do much more than give Finley a short peck on the lips when it was time for him to get to the auto shop. He couldn’t exactly kiss her the way he was dying to when there were customers in the store. Still, it thrilled him when she didn’t shy away from his touch around others.

“I’ll pick you up at your house around six?” he asked.

Finley nodded. “That’s perfect.”

“Sandra said she’d save us a table.”

“That’s good, because I have a feeling Sunny Side Up is going to be completely packed. Especially since she said twenty percent of the proceeds the week the Bigfoot menu is up will go to the junior firefighter club and your search and rescue budget.”

“She’s good people,” Brock said.

“She is,” Finley agreed. “Now go. Make sure Fallport citizens’ cars are working properly.”

Brock grinned. She was a goof. “Yes, ma’am. See you later.”

She nodded, and he could see her desire for him bloom in her eyes. It was all he could do to turn and leave her there. They both had responsibilities, but by this time tomorrow, she’d be his in every way that mattered. Just as he’d be hers.

* * *

That night, precisely at six, Brock pulled into Finley’s driveway. He’d been half hard for the last couple of hours, simply thinking about seeing her again…and what would most likely happen tonight.

He didn’t want to go out, wanted to bring Finley back to his house and show her exactly how much he’d been thinking about her and how badly he wanted her. But she was looking forward to eating at the diner tonight, and Brock would bend over backward to give her what she wanted.

He strode quickly up to her house and smiled as she opened the door before he could knock.

“Hi!” she said brightly enough…but she was back to not meeting his eyes. Her gaze was fixed on the hollow of his throat instead.

Brock stepped toward her and put his finger under her chin, gently lifting her head until she was looking at him. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing, why?” she said a little too quickly.

He snorted. “Talk to me.”

Finley sighed. “I guess I’m just…nervous.”

“About being with me?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know. It’s just…I was packing a bag and it hit me that it’s been a long time for me, and suddenly I’m not sure about this. Seeing me naked is completely different than seeing me with my clothes on. I’m a big girl, Brock. I’ve got lumps and bumps and I’m not toned at all. I don’t—”

Brock cut her off the easiest way he knew how. He kissed her senseless. By the time he pulled back, they were both breathing hard.

“Stop stressing,” he ordered gently. “We’ll play things by ear. If all we feel comfortable doing tonight is cuddling, that’s what we’ll do. There’s no pressure to do anything more. And as far as seeing your body…trust me, the first time I see your tits, nothing else will even register. Don’t you know guys are a sucker for boobs?”

She giggled, which was his goal. He wasn’t being entirely honest, he couldn’t wait to see every inch of her naked body, but he didn’t think that would comfort her right now. He made a mental note to make sure his bedroom was dark when they finally got there later, but not so dark that he couldn’t see her. There would be a time when she’d be comfortable being naked around him with every light in the room blazing, but for their first time, he’d do whatever it took to make her think about nothing except the pleasure he could provide.

“I don’t understand the obsession with boobs,” Finley said finally.

“I can’t explain it. It’s a guy thing,” he said. “You ready?”

She nodded and leaned over to grab a small bag already sitting by the door. Just seeing it made Brock’s cock twitch. He wouldn’t have to say goodbye to her later and go home and masturbate to the thought of her. He’d get to hold her all night, whether or not they actually had sex. He’d get to have her vanilla-cinnamon scent surrounding him. He couldn’t fucking wait.

He wondered if she’d mind going straight to bed when they got home from dinner.

He walked her to his truck with a hand on the small of her back, threw her bag into the back seat, then opened the front door for her. He loved how she no longer even blinked at him wanting her to scoot over the bench seat instead of getting in through the door on the passenger side. It just felt safer to have her get in on the same side as he did.

The drive to the square didn’t take long. It actually took longer to find a place to park than it did to drive there in the first place.

“Wow, it’s packed,” Finley said as they walked hand in hand toward the entrance.

Suddenly, Brock stopped dead in his tracks and stared at the front of Sunny Side Up.

“Holy crap,” he breathed.

Finley had a huge grin on her face. “They put it in today. I didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

They stared at the stained glass Bristol had made for the diner. It was around eight feet wide and two and a half feet tall. The various greens and browns in the glass made the trees look as if they were alive. A lone figure was captured mid-step from behind on a trail in the middle of the trees. The man had on an Eagle Point Search and Rescue T-shirt, and he was carrying a backpack in his hand.

And just as Bristol promised, a hairy creature was peeking around the edge of one of the trees in the corner, as if watching the man traverse the trail.

“It’s…” Brock’s voice faded away. He didn’t have the words to express how amazing the piece of art was.

“I know,” Finley said as she cuddled up to his side.

People around them were taking pictures of the stained glass, and the Sunny Side Up sign as well. This was going to be huge publicity-wise for Sandra and her diner, for Bristol, and for Fallport in general.

Brock sighed. “I’m guessing this is gonna bring even more people to our peaceful town.”

Finley patted his arm. “Yup.”

He smiled down at her. “You might need to hire another assistant,” he told her.

“I can do that.”

Of course she could. He was impressed that she didn’t even seem rattled by the idea. “Come on, let’s see if Sandra saved us that table she promised.”

They managed to get past the people waiting inside the door and the hostess looked extremely rattled as they approached. But when she saw them, she smiled. “Hi, guys. Isn’t this crazy?” she asked. Without waiting for a response, she grabbed two pieces of paper—the temporary Bigfoot menus, most likely—and asked them to follow her. She led them to a table against a wall on the far side of the room. There weren’t any private eating spots in the diner, which Brock kind of regretted.

“Karen will be by to take your order as soon as she can.”

“No problem. We can be patient,” Finley said warmly.

The hostess gave her a thankful smile then turned to head back to the hostess stand.

“Wow,” Finley said after she’d left. “I figured it would be busy, but this? It’s crazy.”

“Bristol’s stained-glass reveal, combined with the Bigfoot menu, is obviously a good draw,” Brock said.

Finley snort laughed. “Ya think?”

It was ten minutes before Karen was able to get to their table, but Brock didn’t mind. He was enjoying talking to Finley about her day. They ordered not only their drinks, but their dinner as well, in case it was another ten minutes before Karen could get back to them to take their order. Finley’s eyes lit up as she ordered the Bigfoot Burger with a side of Shaggy Potato Strings and the Sas-squash. He got the Bigfoot Steak and Eggs with a side of Sasquatch Stew, which was apparently minestrone soup.

“This is fun!” Finley exclaimed, when Karen left to put in their orders.

Brock reached for her hand and held it tightly as he smiled at her. They were sitting across from each other at the small table for two. He would’ve preferred to be in a booth, at her side, but it would’ve been rude to take a table for four when it was just the two of them. So he had to be content with holding her hand across the table and staring into her beautiful face.

They made small talk as they waited for their dinner to arrive. The cooks must’ve been working overtime in the back, because Karen returned with their meals after only twenty minutes.

Several people who knew Finley had passed their table and stopped to say hello. Brock was impressed once again by how many locals she knew.

They were just finishing up their meals when the one thing Brock had been dreading happened.

He’d tried hard not to think about their first two dates, and how something had gone wrong during both. But considering every time they were in public together, something seemed to ruin it, he’d been a little leery since they walked in the door.

Just when he’d let down his guard and was beginning to think they’d be able to get through one date without shit hitting the fan, a waitress approached from behind Finley with a tray full of food.

The customers at the table next to theirs chose that moment to get up. A man stood, pushing his chair aside—right into the path of the waitress.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Brock tried to reach a hand out to steady the waitress, or to grab the tray somehow, but he didn’t have time.

The tray she was holding tilted sideways as she tried to avoid getting slammed by the man’s chair. The plates and cups slid toward Finley, and gravity took over.

A plate of Yeti Spaghetti, Bigfoot Balls, and a Sasquatch Burger spilled down Finley’s shoulder and into her lap. Two glasses of water and another of Coca-Cola splattered onto the table top, spraying both Finley and Brock with their contents.

For a moment, no one in the entire place moved or said a word.

Everyone just kind of stared at them with wide, shocked eyes.

Then, as the waitress began to apologize profusely, the man grabbed some napkins from his table and thrust them at Brock, and Sandra rushed to their table from across the diner…Finley began to laugh.

At first it was a small giggle, but it expanded until she was laughing so hard she couldn’t even talk.

Brock was pissed…but at seeing Finley’s mirth over the situation, he couldn’t help but sigh, shake his head, and eventually smile himself.

“Oh my goodness!” Sandra exclaimed. “Oh my…this is…here, take these napkins.”

For some reason, that made Finley laugh even harder. She pushed her chair back and stood, noodles falling from her shoulder even as a meatball bounced off the floor and rolled a few feet away.

Finley was covered in sauce and noodles—and Brock hadn’t seen anything more beautiful in his life than she was at that moment, head thrown back and laughing over the absurd hilarity of the situation. She could’ve been furious, had every right to be upset or even crying, but instead, she chose to see the humor in the moment. The man hadn’t meant to disrupt the waitress, just as she hadn’t purposely dropped the food in Finley’s lap.

That didn’t mean Brock didn’t wish he’d been the one to be dumped on.

“Wow, that’s it,” she told Brock, delicately picking stray noodles off her blouse and tossing them to the table. “You were right. No more dates.”

He froze for a moment, wondering if this was literally it. If she’d decided they were through. But then she went on.

“When we go out together, we’re just hanging. Chillin’. Having dinner or lunch. Hiking. You were right the second time—no more calling our excursions outside the house dates. Better yet, maybe we should just stay in our houses and never go out again.”

Brock gently eased the waitress out of the way. She was attempting to pick up the broken plates and some of the food. He pulled Finley against him with one arm.

She screeched and, still giggling, said, “I’m gonna get you all yucky!”

“You could never get me all yucky, and I got enough soda on me to make me just as sticky as you.”

“But at least you aren’t wearing the Yeti Spaghetti,” she said with a laugh.

Brock palmed her cheek and leaned in close. “We aren’t hiding in our houses. I want to show off the woman who makes me laugh over spilled food, makes me want to beat anyone who dares to look at her cross-eyed, and who has me thanking my lucky stars I took the job here in Fallport five years ago.”

Her laughter stopped as she stared up at him. “I want to show you off too,” she said simply.

They shared an intimate smile before he leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose. Then her forehead.

“I’m so sorry,” the waitress said miserably.

Finley turned, keeping one arm around his waist. “It’s okay. It was an accident,” she said magnanimously.

“I feel horrible. Your pretty shirt is probably ruined.”

“Probably,” Finley agreed. “But it’s not the end of the world.”

“I’ll pay to have it replaced,” Sandra told her.

Finley shook her head. “No, you won’t. It’s fine.”

“And your dinner is on the house. Were you done? Beth, go tell the cooks to re-do their orders immediately.”

“No!” Brock and Finley said at the same time. They shared a smile and quiet laugh before he turned to Sandra.

“We were practically done. We don’t need more food. What we had was excellent, as always.”

Sandra was practically wringing her hands in agitation. “What can I do then?” she asked.

“You can clean this up and continue on with your night,” Finley said firmly. “It was an accident. No one was hurt.”

“And we’re still paying for our meal,” Brock added.

Sandra sighed. “Fine—but I’m putting all of it toward the charities, not just a percentage.”

Brock nodded, satisfied with that. He turned to Finley. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah.”

Sandra hovered behind them as they made their way through the diner toward the register. People gave them a wide berth, which wasn’t exactly a surprise, since Finley was covered in spaghetti sauce.

“Wait!” Sandra ordered when they reached the door. “Don’t go anywhere. Give me a second!”

They didn’t have a chance to ask what she was doing before she rushed off toward the kitchen.

“If she brings back a doggy bag of Yeti Spaghetti, I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep from laughing again,” Finley told Brock quietly.

He loved her sense of humor. Leaning down, he put his lips near her ear and whispered, “Just think about being naked in my shower instead.” He couldn’t help but nip her ear playfully before he straightened.

She shivered as she stared up at him. “You aren’t taking me to my house to get cleaned up?” she whispered back.

“No. I want you in my shower. My bed. The plan all along was to get naked together, so this will just expedite things.”

Her pupils dilated right in front of his eyes, and just as Brock was taking a step to propel her out of the diner, Sandra returned.

“Here! You can’t sit in your car like that. Take these towels, they’ll protect the seats.”

It was actually a very useful and thoughtful suggestion. Brock took the towels.

“Thank you so much,” Finley said.

Sandra snorted. “It’s not right, you thanking me when you got food dumped on you,” she muttered.

“I’d give you a hug, but then you’d be messy too,” Finley said. “So tomorrow, expect a huge hug from me.”

“Deal,” Sandra said, looking a little less stressed.

“Go do your thing…and enjoy the success of tonight,” Finley said quietly. She patted the other woman’s arm then looked up at Brock. “I’m ready.”

There was so much more to those two words than the people around them shameless eavesdropping understood. Brock nodded at Sandra and pushed open the door to Sunny Side Up.

He walked Finley to his truck, both lost in their own thoughts about the upcoming night. After unlocking his door, he leaned in and spread one of the towels across the passenger seat. Then he held Finley’s hand as she climbed into the truck. She scooted across to the other side, and Brock put his own towel down. He quickly started the engine and, once on the road to his house, reached for her hand.

Once again, no words passed between them on the short trip. It wasn’t until the front door shut behind them that Brock took a deep breath and said, “There’re two ways this can go. One, after you shower, you can put on the robe that’s on the back of the bathroom door. I’ll shower in the guest bathroom and after we’re both clean, we can find something to watch on TV and when we’re tired, we’ll head to bed and sleep. That’s all. Or…I can meet you in my bed after your shower.”

“There’s a third option,” Finley said, a bit of trepidation easy to hear in her tone.

Brock had no idea what that would be, and if she said she could change into the clothes she’d brought with her and go home, he was going to shoot that option down point blank. “What’s that?”

“You could shower with me, then we could go to bed,” she said softly.

Brock’s dick immediately sprang to life once more. He even felt a bit of precome leak out of the tip at the thought of having her naked, wet, and soapy in his shower.

Without a word, he grabbed her hand and stalked through the living room toward the short hallway. He heard Finley giggle behind him, but it was as if he was hearing her through a thick fog. All he could think about was being naked with her in his shower.

He pulled her into his en suite bathroom and shut the door behind them. Loving her initiative and courage in asking him to bathe with her, but knowing she was probably having a few unkind thoughts about her body, Brock turned off the overhead light at the same time he flicked on the light in the small alcove that held the toilet. It gave enough light to see by, but it wasn’t as harsh as the overhead one. Shadows filled the room, and he could see the relief in Finley’s entire expression.

“Strip,” he ordered, as he reached for the hem of his own shirt.