He wanted this. With Pru. All of it. Ari, the inn, the life he’d fallen into. Not for the next few weeks or months, until the threat of Ari being taken was over. He wanted them for real. He wanted to make this home. Because he was in love with them both.
He was down the stairs and striding off the back porch before he could think better of it. They were back to the sheets.
“Ari, you may want to cover your eyes,” Flynn told her.
“Why?”
“Because I need to kiss your mother.”
He didn’t wait to see if she did, instead diving his hands into Pru’s hair and laying his mouth over hers. Over the past weeks, he’d felt so many things for this woman. A driving need to possess. A devastating gentleness. An unwavering fascination. Here was something else altogether—a quiet homecoming that vibrated down to his very marrow. Perfect harmony. Flynn reveled in it, in her, as he sank into the kiss and gathered her close. Her hands fisted in his shirt, sheet and all, as her mouth opened under his on a quiet sigh.
He wanted the moment to go on forever. But he remembered they had things to do and an avid audience of one, so he eased back, pressing his brow to hers.
Pru trembled a little in his arms. “Wha…what was that for?”
Because I love you. The words were right there, waiting to spill out. But making that announcement while laundry billowed around them was hardly his style. Such a declaration merited more forethought on the method of delivery. That should matter nearly as much as the words themselves the first time they were spoken.
“I saw you from the window. You made such a pretty picture, I had to come down.”
Pru tipped her face back, one dark brow raised. “The sight of clean laundry had you overcome with amorous intent?”
Flynn raised her hands to his lips and smiled. “Just you.”
“Smitten,” Ari declared. “The word you’re looking for is smitten.”
“Quite.” With reluctance, he let her go and stepped back. “I’ll get back to my cleaning. I just needed that to tide me over.”
Whistling, he turned his back on them both—Pru staring and Ari grinning from ear to ear—and headed back inside to plan.
Chapter Ten
“SO I SAID, DEANNA, we had a party when you married the bastard. We should have a party for cutting him loose,” Wendy declared. Or was it Jasmine? Pru had lost track.
“The divorce was officially filed this morning, so here we are,” the newly single Deanna announced.
Pru topped off the woman’s wine. “Congratulations on your new freedom.”
The group of ten women from Nashville had arrived mere minutes after they’d finished prepping the rooms. Flynn had appointed himself bag boy and cheerfully hauled luggage up to the assigned rooms, chatting and flirting the whole way, while Pru and Ari were plating hors d’oeuvres and uncorking some wine. At least three of the women practically swooned on the spot. Not that Pru could blame them. Flynn was sexy as hell on an average day, and when he laid on that Irish charm, no woman could resist him, as evidenced by the fact that Deanna had tried to invite him to drop by her room later.
“Sorry about propositioning your man,” she said. “If my ex had been anything like him, we wouldn’t be having a divorce party this weekend. Came right out and said he was engaged and started singing your praises. You are one lucky woman.”
Pru couldn’t stop the smug smile that curved her lips. “I certainly am.”
“I hope you won’t be offended if we look,” one of the others added.
“He’s so very pretty,” another sighed.
Pru laughed. “Yes, he is. And look all you like. There will be a few other handsome faces available for your ogling pleasure in the next little bit. Flynn and a bunch of other local musicians will be having a jam session out back this evening.”
“Yeah? What sort of music?” Deanna asked.
“A little of this, a little of that. Bluegrass, country, Irish…a lot will depend on who happens to show up this week.”
“Oh, is it a regular thing?” Wendy asked.
“We’re trying it out this summer. Feel free to take your wine and canapés outside to enjoy.”
Ari stuck her head in the room. “Hey Mom, we have incoming.”