My cheeks burned even though I was used to him saying stuff like that, but each noisy step Aela made as she stomped down the hall acted like a ticking clock.
“It’s brownie batter.”
He blinked at me. I blinked back.
“Lick you up like you’re the brownie batter,” I corrected, unsurprised when he burst out laughing.
“Jesus, Finn, calm the fuck down,” Aela sniped as she finally made it into the kitchen, but she had a phone in her hand, and I heard the clicks as she took photos.
I twisted around to shoot her a wry grin and saw she’d brought a big bag that was covered in paint.
I arched a brow at her, and she muttered, “He’s next.”
“Next?”
“For Lena’s portraits. I’m still working on Declan’s, but I thought I could creep on your photos of him so I can choose his positioning for when I’m ready to start.”
Finn’s laughter quickly morphed into a groan. “If you think I have time to pose for a painting—”
“You’ll make time,” I informed him. “Aela, can you make two? I want one.”
She peered down her nose at me. “How many brownies do I get in return?”
“An endless supply?” I swept the platter of less-than-stellar brownies off the counter and hovered it under her nose. “Starting with this batch.”
Aela snagged one, took a bite, and her eyes grew big in her face as she chewed. “Oh. My. God.”
“That bad?” I grimaced. “They’re not right, but I thought they were edible—”
“That’s the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth. Seriously. Don’t tell Declan that.”
Finn snorted. “Bet your ass I’ll tell him that if it means you make Conor sit for a portrait next and not me.”
She took another bite, pointedly ignoring him. “What kind of fucking crack is this?”
I stared at the brownies. “I didn’t think they were that great.”
“Let me be the judge.” Finn snagged a piece for himself and took a bite. His eyes did the same thing Aela’s did. “Jesus, baby, she’s right. Did you put coke in them?”
Snorting, I told him, “I hope not considering I run a family-friendly establishment.”
He carried on chewing. “This is why I have to work out three hours a day.”
“If you have time for that, you have time for me to take sketches of you so I can paint you twice,” Aela groused, but she talked as she ate which made me laugh because she snagged another brownie. Finn made me laugh too—he flipped her the bird.
Still smiling, I peered down at the unassuming batch. “I thought they were bland.”
Aela sniffed. “If you need an official taste tester, please, let me know because I volunteer as tribute.”
Finn snagged his arm around my waist. “She’s already got an official taste tester. Me.”
“Now, now, there’s plenty to go 'round,” Aela countered. “Don’t be selfish, Finn.”
“She’s mine,” he growled under his breath, but though his lips were smiling, I saw the stamp of possession in his eyes. That stamp that was always there. That always branded me.
I pressed a hand to his abs to soothe the beast. “I’m yours. Always.”
He snagged my mouth in a kiss that I felt to my bones, and just as the brownie platter started wobbling in my hold, Aela snapped, “Watch the brownies, Finn. For God’s sake.” I felt it being snatched out of my hand as Finn bit down on my bottom lip, hard enough to leave indentations.
“Mine,” he rasped.
I smiled, but it turned smug. “Yours.”
He tapped me on the nose. “Witch. You weren’t going to let me try the brownies, were you?”
He knew me too well. “They’re not right. I was going to wrap them up for the food bank.”
“If these are wrong, Aoife, then I want to taste everything that comes out of your oven,” Aela groused.
“Being pregnant is messing with your taste buds,” I argued.
“Is it messing with mine too?” Finn drawled, making me laugh.
Aela sniffed as she shot me a pointed look before she headed over to the other end of the kitchen where Jake was playing.
“Hey little dude, you don’t know how lucky you are to have a mom who makes magic in the kitchen.”
As she ruffled his hair up, Aela switched on the TV, and after flicking through a few channels, the news came on.
My brow furrowed as I saw the screen. “That’s that hockey player you like, Finn.”
“I know. Haven’t you heard? He was kidnapped.”
“Jeez. Isn’t he Canadian?”
“Yeah.” He laughed. “Canadians get kidnapped too.”
“Apparently.”
He tugged on my hand and walked us over to the sofa where Aela was gorging on what looked to be her fourth piece.
“Babe, you eat another brownie and you’ll puke.”
She shrugged. “I puke all the time anyway. This one would be worth it.”
“If you say so,” I muttered but I was smiling. Maybe that recipe wasn’t crap, after all.
Finn slung his arm over my shoulders, but even as he hauled me into his side, flour dusting and all, his focus was on the screen.
“Bastards,” he mumbled under his breath.
Aela peered up at him. “You pissed because he was kidnapped, because he’s a good player, because the Points didn’t get to him first, or all of the above?”
I felt his tension, but he let it simmer as he told her, “The Points rarely stoop to kidnapping.”
“Rarely being the operative word there, Aoife.”
We shared a look. “Aela,” I told her, a warning in my voice.
“Just saying. It’s all in the minutiae.”
“Life often is,” was Finn’s retort, but his smile had died.
I heaved a sigh. “It is what it is.”
“You say that like it’s a fait accompli that our dudes have to do this shit for a living.” Aela sniffed. “You never heard of mature students? Career changes?”
Finn surprised me by laughing. “Aela, can you imagine Conor in school again?”
Her eyes twinkled, and that reminded me that she’d been in high school with Declan.
“You saw him?” I questioned.
Aela shrugged. “I missed out on catching Brennan in a letterman jacket, but Conor, I saw.”
“He was a letterman?”
Finn snorted. “No. He couldn’t run with a ball if his life depended on it.”
I twisted to peer up at him. “Did you play football?”
He winked. “Maybe.”
“I can’t believe you’ve never told me that,” I complained. “What position?”
“Running back.”
“Lena must have pictures of him somewhere on those damn walls of shame of hers,” Aela muttered, her focus split now between us, the TV, and the brownies.
“I haven’t seen any, and I helped her put most of those up.” I pouted. “I need to see you in compression shorts and shoulder pads.”
“I won’t kink shame, but really, Eef?” Aela scoffed. “Shoulder pads do it for you?”