Nailed. Christine d'Abo

the stuff in your head is so inappropriate it would embarrass future generations? We totally had that going on.

      Fynn patted the side of his thigh with the hand that held the sandwich, making a rattling noise. “I better get going.”

      “Yeah. I have to check some numbers so I can place my orders for the hardwood.”

      “Okay good.”

      “Yup. So, I’ll see you around.”

      “M’kay.”

      My courage finally gave up and I marched toward my makeshift office in the house. I didn’t even bother to look to see if he’d gone or if he watched me go. I couldn’t, because that would make things even harder for me. I needed time and space to figure out the growing problem that was Fynn.