by Elle Kennedy
Anna spun around without a word, reaching the end of the hall just as Valerie launched herself at Finn, nearly knocking him off his feet. Her fists pummeled into his chest, her tears soaking her face as she pounded at him for all she was worth, sobbing and yelling incoherently.
“How could you,” she choked out. “How could—” she sobbed “—you do that? She’s mine.”
Finn grabbed hold of her fists and locked them between his hands. Valerie’s heartfelt cries were even worse than Lucy’s. In that brief moment, he actually saw the real Valerie Matthews. The daughter of the town drunk, the insecure, needy woman who had never caught a single break in life, whose sister had been taken away from her, whose only living relative had just been whisked out of this sad, dismal cabin.
“How could you,” she whispered, her sobs mixed with quiet, unsteady pants.
With a sigh, Finn pulled her close, wrapped his arms around her, and listened to her weep.
Chapter 13
Sarah could make out the sound of a baby crying. Even in her dream, she recognized Lucy’s wail, those little hiccups and the breathy wheezing noises at the tail end of each cry. I’m coming, she yelled in the darkness. I’m coming, Lucy.
The screams only grew louder, the darkness thicker. Panic spiraled through her and then her eyelids snapped open. She gasped for air, disoriented as her gaze darted around the room. She was in her bedroom. Sunlight streamed in through the open curtains. It was nearly four o’clock, according to the alarm clock. Finn had been gone for hours, and somehow, despite the terror and anticipation wreaking havoc on her body, she’d managed to fall asleep.
“Just a dream,” she murmured to herself, waiting for her raging pulse to slow.
So why did she still hear her baby crying?
Fighting back tears, she stood up, wrapping the two ends of her long shawl around her. She was so cold. So damn afraid. The muffled sound of Lucy’s cries echoed in her head, driving her absolutely insane.
“Sarah?”
Finn’s voice.
She went still. She hadn’t even heard him come in.
And Lucy’s wails were still ringing in her brain, making her—oh God, they were coming from downstairs!
The oxygen left her lungs and her legs nearly collapsed beneath her. She wasn’t imagining it. She could hear Lucy!
Tearing out of the room, she flew toward the staircase, disbelief and pure joy spinning inside her like a tornado. When she saw Finn at the bottom of the stairs, she let out a cry, then bounded down the steps and grabbed Lucy from Finn’s outstretched hands.
“Oh, my God,” she said through her tears. “Oh, my God, you found her.”
She clung to her child, breathing in the sweet scent of shampoo and baby powder. The warm bundle squirmed in her arms, but she didn’t ease her grip. She held Lucy tight as tears poured down her cheeks and sprinkled into Lucy’s face. Lucy didn’t seem to mind, though. Her distress faded, as if she realized she was exactly where she belonged and had no need to voice her displeasure any longer.
“Oh, my sweet baby,” Sarah whispered.
Through a sheen of moisture, she saw Finn watching the reunion with a gentle smile on his rugged face. He looked happy and triumphant and relieved, and she found herself moving into the arms he opened, letting him envelop her and Lucy in his strong embrace. The feel of his hands running over the small of her back brought a rush of warmth. Even Lucy seemed to be enjoying the hug, letting out a jubilant gurgle.
“Thank you,” Sarah said, lifting her head to meet his gorgeous blue eyes. “Thank you for bringing her home.”
Raw emotion moved across his face. “It was my pleasure.”
Swallowing, Sarah stepped out of his arms, still holding Lucy close. “Valerie?” she asked quietly.
He nodded. “She was hiding in a cabin in Holliday. Max and Anna took her to the station. She’s charged with kidnapping.”
Sarah didn’t feel an ounce of sympathy. Valerie Matthews had stolen her child. It didn’t make a difference if the woman was technically Lucy’s aunt. Sarah knew she could never forgive Valerie for what she’d put her through. All those hours of worrying, crying, wondering if she’d ever see her child again. What Valerie had done was unforgivable.
“Do you…do you think she killed Teresa, too?” Sarah asked, holding her breath. If Valerie was the killer, that would make things so much easier, but to her disappointment, Finn shook his head.
“I don’t think so. She has an alibi, but more than that, I think she’s truly devastated about losing her sister. Teresa was the only family she had. That’s why she took Lucy, because she no longer had her sister.” He sighed. “Parsons is dealing with her, since the abduction is his case, as he continually likes to remind me. But when I spoke to him on the phone to tell him the news, he reminded me, not so nicely, I might add, that you’re still charged with murder.”
“And in five days, Gregory will get his indictment,” Sarah said dully.
“Which means I need to step up my game and find the murderer,” Finn answered, steely determination in his eyes.
She couldn’t help but smile. “You haven’t done enough already? You brought my daughter home.”
“And now I’m going to make sure she stays home. With her mother.”
Their gazes locked, and Sarah experienced a burst of longing. She wanted so badly to sink into his arms again. She wanted to kiss him again.
Obviously the relief talking. Just because Finn had kept his promise and brought Lucy home didn’t mean she ought to open her heart to him. Her daughter was still her first priority, and letting Finn get close to Lucy, only to have him leave again, wouldn’t be good for anyone.
Lucy opened her mouth and gave the cutest little yawn, her sleepy eyes causing Sarah to focus on the present. “I need to give her a bath and put her down to sleep,” she said.
“And I need to get to the station. I want to be there when Parsons talks to Valerie.”
They stood there at the foot of the stairs, each of them fidgeting. Sarah got the feeling he didn’t want to leave. And she didn’t want him to leave, yet she knew it was for the best. She was so extremely grateful to him for finding Lucy, and yes, maybe she was feeling those little sparks of longing, but right now, she needed to focus on her daughter. She could sift through her conflicting feelings for Finn later.
He seemed to be waiting for her to say something, and his shoulders sagged a bit when she didn’t. “All right, I’d better go. I’ll let you know what happens with Valerie.”
Holding Lucy against her breast, Sarah followed him to the door. As he reached for the doorknob, she was the one hesitating this time.
“Do you want to come back for dinner?” she blurted out.
His hand stilled on the knob. The lopsided smile he gave her was utterly appealing. “Do you want me to?”
She managed a nod.
“Okay. What time?”
“We’ll have to make it a late dinner. Give me a few hours, and maybe show up around eight-thirty? I’ll whip up some pasta. I know you like steak, but I haven’t been shopping for groceries since…since everything,” she finished awkwardly.
“Pasta sounds great,” he said gruffly. He moved his gaze to Lucy, another smile lifting his mouth. “I’m glad she’s home. Take good care of her, Sarah.”
“I will.”
With a quiet goodbye, he left the house. Sarah locked up after him then headed toward the stairs. Lucy had fallen asleep in her arms, and a rush of tenderness flooded Sarah’s belly as she stared down at her sleeping child.
Lucy was home.
Finn had brought her home.
Gently stroking Lucy’s unbelievably soft cheek, Sarah walked upstairs, holding her beautiful daughter.
Finn stopped off at his house to shower and change after he left the police station, but didn’t bother with a shave. He knew Sarah had a thing for his scruffy look, and right now, he needed every weapon in his arsenal to win her over. She was warming up to the idea. He�
��d seen it in her eyes earlier, when she’d invited him to dinner. He knew she was scared—he’d seen that on her face, too, but he planned on proving to her that she had no reason to be afraid.
He’d grown up these past few years, acknowledged the grave mistake he’d made when he’d walked out of Sarah’s life. All he needed now was a chance. A chance to show her that everything could be different this time around.
He’d probably have a better shot at it if he found out who the hell had killed Teresa Donovan. As long as Sarah had this murder charge hanging over her head, she would be less open to the idea of accepting him back in her life. Why would she, if she would only be hauled off to jail?
He’d hoped that Valerie would help shed some light on that topic, but to his extreme frustration, she was refusing to talk. He and Parsons had attempted to question her, but gone was the woman who’d cried in Finn’s arms only hours ago. The old Valerie had returned, with her hyperbolic sense of self-importance and that nasty sarcasm that never failed to annoy him. She’d coldly informed them that her lawyer would get her out of this mess, then crossed her arms and demanded a cup of coffee and something to eat, like a modern Marie Antoinette.
Finn planned on getting her alone tomorrow, maybe after Valerie’s lawyer talked some sense into her. There was no way she was getting out of this “mess” unscathed. She’d kidnapped a child, for Pete’s sake. Maybe once she got that through her head, he might get some answers from her about who may have killed her sister. She probably didn’t even know, but Finn was at the point where he’d take all the assistance he could get, even if it came from Valerie Matthews.
He could think about all that tomorrow, though. Tonight he simply wanted to convince Sarah to give him a second chance.
After slipping into a clean pair of jeans and a black cable-knit sweater Sarah had given him years ago, he left his bedroom and headed downstairs, acutely aware of the complete lack of furniture or decoration in the main floor of his farmhouse. He hadn’t grown up here—the house he’d shared with his mother had been sold years ago—but this farmhouse gave him the same sense of loneliness his childhood home had evoked. He’d bought this place hoping to build a life with Sarah. After she’d moved in, they had so many ideas about what to do with the place, how to renovate it, but within two months, Sarah got pregnant, and the only room they’d focused on was the nursery.
The nursery was still up there, across from the master bedroom on the second floor. He hadn’t even cleaned it out, simply locked the door and forced himself to forget about what lay inside. Jason’s crib. The sky-blue wallpaper and shelves of stuffed animals. It was all there, and in four years, he’d pretended none of it existed. Now, he felt a burst of hope as he remembered the pretty bedroom he and Sarah had labored on. He suddenly pictured Lucy inside of it, and his heart squeezed in his chest.
Way premature, man.
Right. He couldn’t get ahead of himself. Sarah hadn’t even agreed to date him, let alone move back in.
Still, he was whistling to himself as he slid into the Jeep and drove in the direction of Sarah’s house. All the lights were on when he pulled into her driveway, but when he climbed the porch and knocked on the door, she didn’t answer. He considered using the doorbell, but didn’t want to wake Lucy if Sarah had just put her down. Instead, he let himself in and quietly called her name.
Again, no answer, but he knew she was home. Her purse was on the little credenza in the hall, as were her car keys. He almost raised his voice and called out again, then realized he knew exactly where she was.
Taking the stairs two at a time, he made his way to Lucy’s nursery, pausing in front of the doorway. The room was dark, save for a Winnie the Pooh night-light plugged into the wall by the door. In the dim glow, he saw Sarah standing by Lucy’s crib, her long hair falling over like a silky curtain as she gazed down at her child.
“Sarah,” he murmured.
She jumped, spun around, then relaxed. “Hey,” she whispered. “Talk quietly. She’s sleeping.”
Moving slowly so his boots wouldn’t thud against the floor, he approached the crib and peered down, his chest becoming hot. Lucy was on her back, looking sweet and clean in a pink sleeper, her eyelids closed in slumber. A smile tugged at his mouth when he noticed that her bottom lip was sticking out in a little pout.
“She’s beautiful,” he said.
Sarah gave him a sidelong look. “I know, isn’t she? I haven’t been able to stop looking at her. I swear, I’ve been standing here for the past two hours, just watching her sleep.” She suddenly gave a little gasp. “Shoot, dinner!”
The baby stirred at her mother’s outburst, and Sarah quickly lowered her voice before continuing. “Finn, I didn’t even start dinner yet. I was—”
“Watching your daughter sleep,” he finished with a faint smile. “No worries. We’ll fix something together.”
Not that he was even hungry. His stomach had been in a state of clenched anxiety since the dinner invitation. Probably not the most masculine reaction, but he couldn’t get rid of those damned butterflies fluttering around in his gut. This was the closest he’d come in years to getting Sarah back, and a part of him desperately feared he’d blow it.
Sarah reached down to stroke her daughter’s cheek, then tucked the thin blanket up to Lucy’s chin. “Okay, let’s go downstairs and—”
A loud beep broke the peaceful silence, followed by three more sharp chimes that had Finn ushering Sarah out of the nursery. He closed the door behind them, then peered down at her ankle with a frown. The bracelet displayed a red light, which blinked in time with the beeps.
Sarah’s lips tightened. “I forgot to change the batteries.”
The electronic monitor was a reminder of yet another obstacle that stood in his path, and Finn resisted the urge to put his fist through the wall. Lord, she didn’t deserve this, being kept on a damn leash while the real murderer roamed the streets, free to do whatever the hell he wanted.
Trying to hide his anger, Finn took her arm and led her to the bedroom. “Do you still keep batteries in your nightstand?” he asked.
She laughed. “You remember that?”
He was already yanking open the top drawer. “You used to keep everything in there. Batteries, spare keys, pencils, Band-Aids—I never understood why you needed all that stuff so close at hand. That’s what hall closets are for.”
“A nightstand is as good a place as any,” she protested.
“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” He rummaged around in the drawer, which was filled to the gills, until he finally found an unopened pack of batteries. “Sit down, I’ll do it for you,” he said over his shoulder.
He heard the bedspread rustle as she lowered herself on the mattress. Tearing open the cardboard, he took out two fresh batteries and knelt on the floor in front of Sarah. She seemed to hesitate, then raised her foot. She’d changed into a pair of knee-length black leggings and an oversize green sweater that hung down to her knees. She wasn’t wearing any socks, and her pale pink toenails made his mouth go dry. So did the sight of her sleek calves and delicate feet.
When he placed her foot in his lap, her breath hitched. “Are my hands too cold?” he asked gruffly.
She slowly shook her head. “No.”
Finn swallowed in order to clear the sawdust from his mouth. Then he popped open the small compartment on the ankle bracelet, removed the dead batteries and slid in the new ones. The second he snapped them in place, the beeping stopped and the red light went off, but for the life of him, he couldn’t let go of her foot.
Her skin was hot to the touch. When he moved his gaze up her body, he noticed her nipples poking against the front of her sweater. The material was so thin, he could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra, and his mouth promptly turned into a desert once more.
Unable to stop himself, he caressed the arch of her foot.
“Finn,” she breathed. “What…what are you doing?”
He didn’t answer. Wrapping his fingers aroun
d her other ankle, he caressed her smooth skin, then dragged both hands up to her knees, her thighs, her waist, her flat belly. He could see her pulse throbbing in her graceful neck, but the expression on her beautiful face was encouraging. He saw anticipation, heat.
He moved his hands higher, resting them just below the swell of her breasts. He waited, met her eyes again, and glimpsed only desire. Emboldened, he cupped her breasts over her sweater, squeezing the full mounds and eliciting a shaky sigh from her lush mouth.
“Finn,” she murmured again.
“Tell me to stop,” he murmured back. “Say it, and I’ll walk out of this room.”
Her mouth opened. He waited, praying she didn’t say those words.
“Touch me,” she whispered.
Joy shot through him. Before she could change her mind, he tangled one hand through her hair and tugged her toward him, kissing her hard and deep. She gasped against his mouth, then relaxed, parting her lips so he could slide his tongue inside, so he could lick and explore and drink her in.
Every muscle in his body was coiled tight. His groin throbbed, the erection straining against his zipper harder and more painful than ever. He’d been with a few women since he and Sarah broke up, but none of them had inspired this primal reaction inside of him. None of them had made his heart pound and made him hungry with desire. Sarah was the only one who did that, the only one who could satisfy his appetite, his need.
As their tongues danced and dueled, he bunched up the hem of her sweater and pulled the material over her head. Her bare breasts gleamed in the patch of moonlight shining through the open window. He went dizzy for a second, lost in the incredible vision of those mouthwatering mounds and the tight pink nipples begging for his attention.
When he lowered his mouth and sucked one rigid bud deep in his mouth, Sarah moaned, then cupped his head and brought him closer, welcoming him, trapping him. He circled each bud with his tongue. Sucking, licking, while his hand moved between her legs to rub her over her leggings.