Page 40 of Making Home with You (The Rockport Beach #3)

My heart begins to race and I question my overzealous behavior. Shaking my hands at my side, trying to rid them of the tingling that has taken over. My excitement is now overshadowed by the fact that Andrew was here the entire time and now probably knows what I’ve done.

But, when the person behind the desk appears, it’s the cleaning service and he walks out of Andrew’s office carrying a bag of trash as he slips into mine to do the exact same thing.

I practically laugh out loud at my overactive imagination. I’m not going to let some former-date-rape-frat-boy bully me into thinking I’ve done something wrong. He’s not going to incite the type of fear in me that he’s done up until this point.

Joe’s still on the phone when I finally make it back to the lobby; phone in hand and ready to get the hell out of here.

He motions with his head for me to follow him, and we head out to his waiting nondescript police issued vehicle that he conveniently left parked right out front of my office building. I guess that police placard is more useful than the badge sometimes.

He drops me at the station, again either utilizing or abusing his police presence to park directly in front as he walks me inside and waits on the platform until I’m on safely on the train.

All of this going down as he reminds me not to arrive at work before office hours and not to stay any later than necessary.

Since the incident with Carla outside of Finn’s house, he’s started parking off to the side of the driveway.

He gave me his garage door opener and has since insisted I park there rather than risk something else happening.

So when I hit the button, it only takes Finn a second to whip open the door leading to the house and poke his head out.

He watches me pull in, cut the engine and climb out as he hits the button closing the garage door behind me.

He isn’t taking any chances, but something is different about today. He seems more on edge when I push up on my toes and press my lips to his.

“Sarah, I gotta talk to you about something,” he says, pulling back and looking me straight in the eye. His expression is unreadable and for a second I wonder if he’s found out I’ve been lying to him about what’s going on with my boss.

“Is everything okay?” I ask, stumbling over my words as I realize I should tell Finn everything.

“Not exactly.”

He ushers me into the house, taking my laptop bag from me and setting it down on the floor by the kitchen table.

Finn paces the room, running his hand through his hair over and over, but I stop him, wrapping my arms around his waist, I press my body against him. He’s struggling and I don’t know why, but I need him to talk to me.

“What’s going on?” I murmur, my voice quiet as I run my hands up and down his back. I feel him rest his chin on my head and let out a slow breath of air.

“Something happened with Carla today, but I don’t want to you to worry about it.”

I pull back from him before he can continue, and I feel his racing pulse when I run my hands along his neck and up to his cheeks. Taking his face in my hands I silently implore him to continue.

“She broke into my house, but again, don’t worry.,” he says, as I gasp out loud, and it doesn’t matter how many times he tells me not to worry; I’m fucking worried. “I’ve contacted the guy who’s investigating everything and it’s in his hands now.”

I pull Finn closer, until I’m practically climbing his body.

This is so out of control it’s not even funny.

Right now what’s happening at work has nothing on this.

This fucking woman has violated Finn’s privacy, something he values above everything.

She’s come into his home… And that’s when my thoughts come to a screeching halt.

“What did she do?” I ask, fearful of his answer. My imagination runs rampant as I picture her in his bed, her stealing anything she could get her hands on, trashing his house. Whatever she felt would get his attention.

“Not much,” he replies, shaking his head. “She broke in through the back door. Used a rock or something to bust the window and then unlocked the door and let herself in.”

He hasn’t answered my question. He’s talking around it, giving me the logistics because he thinks I’ll forget that I asked what she did. I don’t fucking care how she got in here. My concern is for Finn and how much this is fucking with him.

Again he pulls a hand through his hair and takes my face in his calloused strong hands as he kisses me hard.

“Fuck, Sarah,” he whispers in my ear, his hands now wrapped around my head pulling me as close to him as we can get.

“She…” he starts, swallowing hard as he struggles to continue.

His breathing growing more rapid as the seconds float by with neither of us speaking.

“She went after you. She trashed your stuff,” Finn finally breathes out and the grip he has on me tightens.

While his words startle me, it’s the relief I feel that has a bigger impact.

Finn is safe.

I couldn’t give a shit about my clothes or my bathroom products or anything else for that matter. As long as she didn’t go after Finn and his privacy, his quiet life that he has built for himself here in Rockport, things will be okay.