"Let's eat," he says quietly, moving his hands to take mine, "and then we can spend tonight relaxing together."
Leading me over to the table, my heart melts as I take my seat, and he sits in his. He made baked ziti with salad and homemade garlic bread, one of my favorite meals. There's a small part of me, a very small part, that's simmering with worry. Usually, if a man goes this big, something is going on he's trying to mask or soften. Finn knows I'm not the type of woman that needs to be buttered up for good or bad news.
Halfway through eating, I finally decide to probe the worry. "Finn? Is something going on that I need to be aware of?"
After he swallows the food in his mouth, he shakes his head. "Why would there be, babe?"
And there it is. I know my husband better than an
