Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
“That sounds excellent. I’ll have that.” Finn had a wide smile.
“You’re easy,” the hostess teased before turning to me. “How about you, sir? We’re pretty informal this time of night, so I’ll be your server too. Do you need a moment with the menu?”
All the pastry and eggy goodness of a quiche did sound good, but I made myself scan the menu for less indulgent options. “I’ll take the vegetable soup with the spring greens salad on the side.”
“Fabulous. I’ll have that right up for you.” She took our menus, along with an order for hot tea from me and water from Finn.
“I like this place,” I said as I looked around the narrow space, taking in all the dark wood and aged metal accents. There were a few other diners, but none of the tables were particularly noisy, letting the piped-in folksy instrumental music add to the peaceful vibe. “You were right about fast service.”
“I’ve always liked it too. One of the first farm-to-table restaurants. They’ve been here forever. Probably not up to Manhattan standards, but everything is super fresh and local.” The hint of defensiveness in Finn’s voice reminded me of what he’d said about dating the professor. Obviously, his bad experience with him had put him off guys from big cities. I wanted to be the one to prove his bias was wrong, but trust took a long time to build, and long-term likely wasn’t in the cards for me either. Surprisingly, the idea left me all wistful and achy.
“I feel like I should tell you that I’m not looking for anything serious.” I couldn’t keep the regret out of my voice. If someone were looking for a relationship, Finn would likely be an excellent choice, and not simply for those muscles and his easy grin. He was a good guy, fun to talk to, but with a steadiness to him that made him even more appealing.
“Luckily, neither am I.” Finn’s voice was playful, possibly even relieved. And that shouldn’t have made me bristle, but my back tensed up anyway. “After Astin, I realized that the farm is always going to be my number-one priority. I’m not good relationship material.”
“I feel that. I’m not either.”
“You? You seem like the definition of the relationship type. I can totally see you with some suit-wearing husband back in Manhattan, hosting fancy dinners for other couples.” He laughed, but I didn’t miss his emphasis on the city being key in his vision.
“It’s not that I don’t see the appeal in relationships.” Choosing my battles, I didn’t argue his assumption that I belonged in New York. “It’s more that the risks wouldn’t be fair to my partner.”
“How so?” Finn’s eyes narrowed even as his tone stayed light. “You have a knife-throwing habit I should know about?”
“I’m forty-two.” I made an expansive gesture with my palms.
“Which is hardly the same thing as dead.”
“Says the man who has probably not yet seen the dark side of thirty-five,” I retorted, which made him laugh. I added, “And it might as well be another word for deceased, at least in my family.”
“Now I’m intrigued.” Finn leaned forward.
“My father died at forty-two. Massive heart attack. My grandfather died at forty-two, same thing. And it wasn’t only them. That side of the family tree is rather sparse, with short branches. The men tend to work hard, overachieve, and die young.” My voice stayed grim even as Finn’s frown deepened. There really wasn’t a pleasant way to spin this.
“So you decided that because you might die young, you wouldn’t get involved with someone?” He quirked his mouth.
I didn’t care for the skepticism in his tone. “You make it sound silly.”
“It is.” Finn nodded emphatically right as our food arrived.
The portions were generous, and I could smell the butter in the pastry even from across the table. I waited until the server had retreated, and Finn had tasted his quiche, to continue making my case. “I’m already forty-two. I could be on borrowed time.”
That was exactly how I’d felt since my birthday. Borrowed time. I wasn’t supposed to still be here, but I also wasn’t ready to be done, hence the funk that had chased me for months now.
“What does your doctor say?” Predictably direct, Finn was all reasonable in between bites of food.
“I don’t have signs of heart disease,” I admitted as I picked at a strawberry in my salad. “Yet. I was in a study in New York about the genetics of heart disease and had a full cardiac workup. But it’s also something that can show up without warning. I watch my diet and exercise, but there are no guarantees.”
Finn made a triumphant noise. “Exactly. There are no guarantees. My grandfather lived until he was ninety. Plenty of tales of ancestors who saw one hundred.”
“Good for your family.” My voice was as bitter as the baby arugula in the salad.