Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 132834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Miss Martha always knew. I’d been through some tough spots in my life, but I’d always been lucky to have my mom. She was the best. And she knew what made a home. Griffen and Hope giving us this place, Parker putting so much of herself into the renovations, it all meant so much. But these things were so much more than mere belongings. They were part of my family history. Love passed down through generations.
I folded the afghan carefully, thinking I might hang it rather than putting it on the couch where Nicky could spill juice on it. Or maybe I’d bring it upstairs and put it on the end of my bed. I could decide later. Closing the flaps to the box, I noticed an old-fashioned plastic milk crate on the floor, filled with small appliances.
My eyebrows knit in confusion before I remembered Finn’s comments earlier. This must be what he was talking about. I opened it, curious. Half of the crate was taken up by a stainless steel countertop toaster oven. Perfect for everything from toasting bread to reheating a slice of pizza or making a quick batch of chicken nuggets. I’d had one of these in Richmond, but it hadn’t made the move. Beside it, I found a handheld mixer. I wasn’t sure I’d use that, but it was nice to have. The final item was a pretty stoneware crock that would look good on the counter, pre-filled with gently used matching spatulas, ladles, and other cooking utensils.
I crossed my arms over my chest and stared down at the milk crate. Finn was being thoughtful again. I couldn’t quite figure him out. He’d been the villain for so much of my adolescence, then my outright enemy after the stunt that had lost me my prom date—or any date ever again as far as high school was concerned. I’d hated him for that for so long it had become a habit more than anything else.
This man, who gave my son Halloween when he was sick and sad, who thought to stock my kitchen with things I needed, who always put a piece of chocolate on my breakfast plate when he didn’t do that for anyone else—this man was not that obnoxious, entitled high school kid I’d hated. And I had no idea what to do with that.
Knuckles rapped on the front door, startling me out of my thoughts. It opened inward as the knocker let themselves in. A dark head came into view, followed by broad shoulders in a familiar dark blue t-shirt. Finn. Of course it was Finn.
He kicked the door shut behind him, and I noted he was carrying a box—and not a packing box. Something that looked new.
“When I dropped off the other stuff,” he said, “I noticed you didn’t have one of these. Consider it a housewarming gift.” He plopped the box on the counter to reveal a high-end drip coffeemaker.
My eyes flashed wide. First, he was right; I didn’t have a coffee maker and hadn’t had time to think about getting one. And I needed coffee in the cottage. Never mind that I’d be heading to the Manor almost as soon as I was awake. I still needed my own coffee.
And second, this was a really nice coffee maker. Not just because it was an expensive brand, but because of the design. The main section was a traditional drip into a glass carafe, but on the side, it had a travel mug and a smaller drip brewer for making single-serve coffee to go. It was the perfect coffee maker for a woman who dashed around in the mornings but still wanted her caffeine fix. It was incredibly thoughtful.
“It has a timer,” I said stupidly, running a finger over the list of features on the box.
“Yeah,” Finn said, shoving his hands in his back pockets. “You can set it up before you go to bed and have the coffee waiting for you when you get up.” He shrugged one shoulder. “You should really grind the beans right before you brew it, but . . .” He blew out a breath, his hair flying out of his face.
I couldn’t help but smile. “I probably shouldn’t tell you I buy my coffee already ground.”
The look on his face made me laugh outright. Finn tried to hide his horror, but he couldn’t manage to wipe it from his face. Shaking his head, he said, “I’m just going to forget you said that. I should have gotten you the kind with the grinder built in.”
“No!” I slapped my hands over the box. “It’s mine now, and I’m keeping it. It’s perfect.” Swallowing, my voice a normal volume, I finished, “Uh, thanks. Really, this was so thoughtful.”
“No big deal.” His eyes skipped away from mine, that shoulder jerking in another shrug.