“You have a beautiful home.” She stepped into the eight-foot square entry. A wide opening ahead led to the kitchen and what she suspected was a connecting family room. To the left, a short hallway led to a formal living room that looked untouched, with another hallway that looked to connect a main bedroom. Also to the left, a narrow stairwell with steep steps told the true age of the structure. A coat closet was on her right, concealed with louvered doors. Noting the recently vacuumed floors and Zoe’s fluffy green socks, she kicked off her ankle boots and set them in the basket.
“Oh, you don’t have to take off those cute shoes. We’re casual around here.”
“No worries. The floors look so nice, I’d hate to be the one to mess them up.”
Zoe laughed, “Pops insisted we prepare for our guest. We haven’t really had anyone over since Mom passed, so we’ve all had to remind ourselves what manners look like.”
From the kitchen, she heard Finn’s rumbling voice holler, “Haley?” Appearing seconds later, Finn was wiping his hands on a pink tea towel, looking adorably flustered. “Sorry, kitchen emergency.”
Glancing behind him, she asked, “I’m good, do you need to take care of it?”
“Nah.” He grinned, tossing the towel back with an easy lateral into the kitchen, not looking to see that it had landed on the corner of the island as intended.
A voice remarkably similar to Finn’s griped from the kitchen, “Don’t worry about me. I’ve got eight arms.”
Zoe rolled her eyes. “That’s our little brother. He’s helpless. I’ll fix it.” As she wandered into the kitchen, Haley watched as she shrugged before disappearing around the corner. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, I’m here.”
Finally alone, Finn leaned against the doorway and grinned at Haley. Her cheeks heated as she suddenly felt completely on the spot, toes curling inward on the worn linoleum floor of his entry as he stood so at home, grinning like a fool, barefoot in old jeans and a faded black t-shirt, gauging her impression of his family.
An exasperated voice bellowed from the family room, “Finn? What channel is the game on?”
“NBC,” Finn hollered over his shoulder, then looked back at Haley and grinned again. “Want to risk the chaos, or head straight upstairs so I can show you my bedroom?”
Rolling her eyes, she set her hands on her hips. “And miss the Seahawks?”
Tsking, he stepped closer and wrapped his hands around her waist. “I’m only letting that slide since the Fire don’t play until tomorrow. First game of the season, first game without me. We’ll see how they fare.” Leaning down, he brushed his lips over hers. “But I’d better still be your favorite player.”
Nipping at his lip, she teased, “You’ve always been on my fantasy league.”
“MVP?”
“Hall of Fame.”
Groaning, he pulled her hips tight against his, kissing her again.
From the family room, she heard another holler, “Finn? Stop making out with your rebound and help me figure this thing out.”
Without releasing her, he shut his eyes and cringed under the closed lids. “As part of his man cave, he switched to satellite so he can watch any game at any time.” He slid his hand into hers and led the way into the fray.
The kitchen was bigger than she had expected, bright and open with high ceilings overlooking the family room. Lighting up as they approached, Scott tossed down the remote and hopped up the four steps from the family room to the kitchen where she stood next to Finn. Like his son, he moved like a gazelle. Strikingly handsome, he looked remarkably like Finn, plus twenty years, if that. “You must be Haley. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
Accepting the friendly handshake, Haley was so disarmed by the casual ease of the home, the family, she felt the tension drain from her shoulders. “It’s great to meet you Mr. Halseth.”
“Scott, please.” He winked, then released her hand. “Can I get you something to drink? Beer? Lemonade? Water?”
“I’d love a beer.”
Finn squeezed her hand. “I can grab some.”
Scott shook his head. “No, you figure out that damn TV. I’ll bring you a beer if you can get me Seahawks.” He turned to Haley. “We’ve got the latest from Zane. Why don’t you come pick out what you’d like.”
How many parties had she been the one offering drinks? Not serving them, of course. She’d snag an occasion-specific signature apéritif from a caterer’s tray and toast with her guests.
“Great.” She smiled, following him toward the fridge.
From the oven, another handsome Halseth turned and waved. “Hi Haley. I’m Evan. Hope you like halibut. If Finn didn’t butcher it beyond salvaging.”
Finn griped from the family room, “Next time, buy it de-boned, dipshit.”
