His lips graze mine lightly at first, a barely there brush that nonetheless melts me on the spot. He kisses one corner of my mouth, then the other, before he settles in fully, adding a touch more pressure. He moves against me with care. Appreciation. His lips are soft, yet strong, and taste minty fresh. Someone brushed their teeth this morning and for a moment I panic, worried I have terrible breath, but if that’s the case, Finn gives no indication it’s bothering him.
He must sense my momentary worry because his hand moves up to cup my cheek, to keep us securely connected. My eyes flutter closed as I fall under his possessive and unrushed spell. I’ve never been kissed with such care, like I’m a precious piece of art and he’s my master. His confidence glides through me. The kiss remaining chaste yet so hot my skin prickles with excitement.
I hum against his mouth, ready to break the seam and slide my tongue alongside his. He makes a low guttural sound that turns my nipples into hard, aching points. He’s ready, too.
“Ruff!”
Our foreheads bump as Sammy barks her way into our private heaven and jumps up onto the bed. Finn draws back on a groan, his eyes shining with desire.
As much as I didn’t want the kiss to end, it’s for the best. My brain on Finn is completely scrambled. I fall back onto my haunches.
Sammy cuddles right into Finn’s lap like she did not just interrupt the start of something good.
“To be continued,” Finn says.
“To be determined,” I’m quick to say back in an attempt to keep the upper hand. From the cocky look on Finn’s face, I’m not sure he buys it. “So, about my dress?”
“It will be good as new later today or tomorrow.”
“Really?” I’m so happy I could kiss him. You just did. Yeah, and now that I know what it feels like I’m in major danger of not-so-accidentally falling face first onto his mouth. “But how?”
“Trust me to take care of it, okay?”
“Okay.” I hop off the bed, careful to keep my butt covered with Finn’s shirt, not that I need to worry since it hangs to the middle of my thighs. “Thank you.” I pad over to the fireplace, the embers barely glowing now. “Thanks for everything.”
Finn comes to stand beside me, his arm skimming mine as we watch the dying fire. “So, Operation and breakfast?”
I inwardly smile. “If breakfast is brownie banana splits, then yes.”
Chapter Twelve
#ExtraInnings
Finn
I can’t remember the last time I took a day for pure fun and nothing else. Granted, every day I’m on the baseball field is fun. But it’s pressure-filled enjoyment. I’m in the zone to perform at the highest level possible. Letting my teammates and the fans down is unacceptable, and so while I love every second of it, I’m also constantly held accountable.
Today, I’ve broken every rule in my off-season handbook and it feels better than I thought it would. I didn’t work out, not that I’m up to speed there, but I’d planned to do some form of exercise daily since getting the okay. I didn’t drink my smoothie. I didn’t put protein and healthy fats into my body.
Instead, Chloe is running my Saturday with carefree precision. After having the necessary ingredients for brownie banana splits delivered, we made the sundaes and then ate them while I kicked her ass in Operation. She’s a good sport, and laughed at herself more than complained. I think she needs this day as much as I do after the spill on her gown, and I admire her seemingly effortless ability to relax and enjoy herself.
She is most definitely a distraction at the highest level, but right now I don’t give a shit because she also affects me in ways that can only be measured by the pounding of my heart and the spring in my step. After the kiss we shared this morning, where sparks singed the skin on the back of my neck, I’m more determined than ever to win her over. She isn’t cursed. Is there some bad luck involved in her situation? Sure. But there are equally staggering coincidences out there. For example, Giancarlo has this weird knack for meeting girls named Lexi. He didn’t think much of it at first, bringing them home or to his hotel room for his usual one-night-only thing, until he pieced together that after being with “Lexi” he fell into an inexplicable slump that lasted until he “broke the curse” by hooking up with someone else. Now, if there’s even a Lexi in the same room as him he hightails it out of there.
“She caught it! Did you see that?” Chloe says, throwing her hand up for a high five.
I smile and slap her palm, my hand so much bigger than hers. My skin rougher. She’s soft edges and warm curves and if I’m not careful, she’ll find me with my tongue hanging out like Sammy’s so often does around her.
We’re at a park near her house, tossing a ball in the air for Sammy to catch. I drove Chloe home to change clothes (not that I would have minded seeing her in nothing but my T-shirt all day, but there are kids around), and then we headed here. That she suggested we hang out rather than have me drop her off took half a second for me to agree to. Being with her is more interesting than spending time alone, and oddly more comforting. I steal a moment to enjoy being in the present and nowhere else. The sun is shining, the temperature comfortable, and the smell of dirt and grass hits me with welcome familiarity.
Sammy runs back to us with the ball in her mouth and drops it at Chloe’s feet. Chloe rewards her with a tiny treat. “Good girl,” she says, kneeling to take Sammy’s face in her hands. “You are the best puppy.” Chloe looks up at me. “Want to hike up the trail now?”
“Sure.” She could ask me to hike through quicksand and I’d say yes.
I put Sammy’s leash back on her and we walk toward the trail opening. We’re halfway across the open field when a NERF football hits me on the side of the head. The foam toy bounces off my temple.
“Joshua!” a boy, maybe nine or ten shouts to a younger version of himself. “Watch where you’re throwing. Sorry, mister.” His eyes go wide as he takes me in.
Joshua jogs over. “Sorry,” he says to the ground. I think the apology is for me and not the grass blades, but I get it. I was a shy kid, too. “Can I pet your dog?”
“Josh,” the other boy warns.
“It’s okay,” I say, getting down on my knees so I’m kid level. “Sammy is friendly. She will probably lick you, though. Is that cool?”
“My brother had surgery on his heart and our mom said he has to be careful about germs so I don’t know,” the older boy says.
His heart? Jesus. No kid should have to go through any kind of surgery, let alone an operation on a vital organ.
“What’s your name?” Chloe asks him.
“Jesse.”
“Hi, Jesse. Hi Josh.” She bends down. “I’m Chloe, and this is Finn.”
“We know,” Jesse says. “He’s our favorite baseball player.”
Josh pets Sammy while peeking at me. “I have your jersey at home,” Josh says quietly.
“Thanks, bud. I appreciate that.”
“It was mine, but I gave it to him when he was sick,” Jesse says. “He dropped red Jell-O on it, though, so now it has a stain.”
Josh sits on his bottom so Sammy can cozy up to him. She’s remarkably calm, sitting in his lap and letting him stroke her back. I expected licks to his face, but it’s like she understood Jesse’s worry for his brother and kept her tongue to herself.
“I dropped food on something special of mine too,” Chloe says in comfort, but I know she’s nervous about her dress. Until she sees it, she won’t believe it’s been cleaned.
After she fell asleep in my car on our way to my house last night, I called my cousin Meredith. She’s a dress designer and has contacts all over the city for clothing emergencies 24/7. I’ve been assured the stain will be removed. If not, Mere knows where to get a new one ASAP and I’ll replace it before Chloe’s any the wiser.
Josh gives Chloe a small smile then goes right back to focusing on Sammy.
“Is your mom or dad nearby?” I ask.
“We live across the street,” Jesse
says. “So, our mom sometimes lets us come play by ourselves. She watches from the window or the front door a lot, though. We’re not supposed to talk to strangers, but you’re not a stranger. Plus, I have this.” He pulls a whistle out of his pocket. “It’s super loud.”
“I was thinking I could bring you both new jerseys if you want.”
“Really?” they say at the same time, their eyes lighting up.
Josh is quick to once again drop his attention to Sammy, though, who is in dog heaven. Apparently, Josh has the magic touch. His pets go from head to tail with a steady stroke that rumples Sammy’s thick fur and has her eyes drooping shut.
“Absolutely,” I say.
A woman jogs toward us, a concerned expression drawing the corners of her mouth down. “Hey, guys,” she says slightly out of breath. Her gaze zeroes in on Josh.
The young boy looks up, guilt written across his face. “Hi, Mommy.”
“Julie?” Chloe says.
“Chloe? Oh my gosh, hi.”
“I didn’t know you lived around here,” Chloe says before turning to me and adding, “Julie works—” She falters like she spoke too soon. “She’s an RN.”
I search Chloe’s eyes. She’s holding something back and it bothers me. A lot. I want her to trust me. To talk to me. More than I’ve ever wanted any other woman to. Hell, normally I’m fine with as little conversation as possible.
With Webster it’s different.
“Did you two go to school together?” It’s a dumb question. Julie looks much older than Chloe, but I’m trying a vague approach in hopes she’ll confide in me.
“No.” Chloe searches my face for something. While she does, I count the freckles across her nose. One, two, three, four, five. Five tiny beauty marks for a girl who is gorgeous inside and out. “Julie works at my dad’s doctor’s office.”
That’s a normal thing. We all have doctors. Unless it’s a specialty doctor. My mind races back to meeting Chloe in the Landsharks conference room and her tardiness due to a family emergency. Shit. Is Casey Conrad sick?
“These are your sons?” Chloe asks Julie, swiftly changing the subject away from her.
“Yes. Jesse and Joshua.”
“They’re adorable. This is my friend, Finn.”
“Nice to meet you.” I shake her hand.
“You, too. My boys are big fans of yours. Whose puppy?” She kneels down to rub Sammy behind the ears.
“This is Sammy, Mommy. She’s Finn’s and she didn’t lick me, but she likes me anyway.”
“I tried to tell him…” Jesse trails off.
Julie stands and draws Jesse into a hug. “It’s okay. Puppies are very hard to resist.”
“She’s pretty good at playing catch,” I say. “You guys want to throw the ball around with her?”
“Can we, Mom?” Jesse asks.
“Sure.”
The boys take turns throwing Sammy the ball and the three of them run around the field, cheering Sammy on and clapping when she makes a catch midair. I’m not sure the boys notice, but every time Sammy returns the ball, she drops it in front of Josh.
“Jesse mentioned Josh had heart surgery,” I say, hoping Julie will elaborate.
“He did, yes. He was born with a congenital heart defect, but didn’t show any symptoms until a few months ago.”
“He looks great,” Chloe says. “Is he cured?”
“We’re not sure,” Julie says softly. “He has what’s called aortic stenosis, which means his aortic valve is too small and narrow for blood to travel through easily, and so the heart has to work harder. Over time the added stress weakens the heart. The surgery repaired his valve for now, but if scar tissue forms, he’ll most likely need more surgeries as he grows.
“He’s really been a trouper. Never complains. Follows the doctor’s instructions. And Jesse’s been very understanding.” She takes a shaky breath. “I think I’m having a harder time than anyone.”
Chloe gives Julie’s arm a squeeze. “That’s understandable. I think you said your husband is in the medical field too?”
“Yes, he’s a medical device rep. He’s always on call since he goes inside ORs when the devices are needed and used, which is why he’s not here at the park with the boys.”
I watch the kids play with Sammy with a twinge in my chest. My learning difficulties growing up were nothing compared to Josh’s medical challenges.
After a few more minutes, Josh walks over to us. Sammy notices and immediately stops chasing the ball Jesse threw to follow Josh instead. “Mommy, I’m tired.”
“Okay, sweetie. Let’s go home. How does some hot chocolate sound?”
“Good.”
Julie lifts Josh up to hold him in her arms. “Thanks for letting me play with Sammy,” he says to me.
“Anytime,” I say, knowing that’s not exactly true since I don’t live in the neighborhood. I will, however, keep my promise about jerseys and bring Sammy with me when I deliver them.
Jesse says thanks and goodbye, too, and then the three of them walk home. Sammy sits perfectly still at my feet watching them go.
“It’s got to be so hard having a sick child,” Chloe says from beside me. “When my mom was sick, I asked her if she could give me the disease instead. I wanted to help her. I wanted to stop seeing the grief in my dad’s eyes.”
I find her hand and lace my fingers with hers.
“She told me absolutely not. For one, she said, wanting me to understand, cancer isn’t something you can give someone else like a cold or a fever. And two, no parent ever wants to see their child unwell. She told me I was her greatest gift and she loved me with all her heart and as long as I was healthy, she was happy.”
“She sounds like a great mom.”
“She was.”
Julie and her boys disappear behind the front door of a single-story house painted beige with a large front window and a swing hanging from the tree on the well-kept lawn.
Grateful Chloe is still holding my hand, I ask what hasn’t left the back of my mind. “Is your dad okay?”
She stiffens. It kills me, as I’m left wondering if she doesn’t want to talk about it in general, or doesn’t want to talk about it to me.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me,” I say, taking the high road. Don’t make this about you, dumbass. “Just know I’m here if you need someone to confide in.” I’ll gladly share her burdens if she’ll just open her heart and let me in.
“I don’t.” Her voice, whisper-thin and fragile, touches a place deep inside me. “No offense.”
“None taken.” I am absolutely offended.
Which means I’m in this deeper than I thought.
Chapter Thirteen
#ThroughThickAndThin
Chloe
I sit at one end of the rectangular table in the conference room of Media Management Corp LA for our weekly meeting and large content planning session and try to stay focused on the ideas being passed around rather than the text I received from Finn this morning.
Good morning.
Yep, those two little words are all he said. But now all I can think about is that he thought of me when he woke up and took the time to tell me. I’ve stared at the text no less than five times, yet to come up with something to text back. The simple consideration is teeming with more. Because the fact is we’re no longer just working together. We’re developing a relationship outside of the Landsharks, and looking across the table at my coworkers, I sense it’s not the same case with them, romantic or otherwise.
“It’s clear our fans want more behind-the-scenes content,” Rena says, breaking into my musings. She and her assistant are here this morning, too, making sure we’re focused on the Landsharks’s brand and meeting their expectations.
“Agreed,” my boss says then clicks to the next slide on the PowerPoint presentation filling the drop-down screen. “And you’ll notice to combat the decrease in organic reach, our trick is to repost content multiple times throughout the day. We’ll doub
le those efforts this week with the Thanksgiving holiday to take advantage of PTO.”
“On Friday, we’re doing a live Twitter chat with the guys,” I say, “again hoping to take advantage of people home from work. We’ll kick it off with a picture of their favorite Thanksgiving food and segue into the Landsharks Love Toy Drive taking place next week. Finn would also like to visit the Children’s Hospital in the coming weeks so I’m happy to arrange a group visit there.”
Julie’s son, Josh, left a big impression on Finn. As we left the park on Saturday he talked about both of her boys with reverence, as if he was remembering his own childhood with his brothers. I can somewhat relate in that I think of Jillian like a sister. I don’t know what it’s like to live under the same roof as a sibling, to have to fight for the bathroom or television or attention, but I do know what it’s like to come to Jillian’s defense, to laugh and cry with her, to tell her my secrets.
“Sounds good, Chloe. Thank you. We’ll also run a special campaign for Landsharks Love,” my boss says, taking my introduction to pull up the appropriate slide and elaborate.
“Perfect,” Rena says.
Discussion continues on tone of voice, retweets, what time of day posts are most effective, social monitoring, and a reminder about our main goal: gain team support.
The Monday meeting ends with donuts, coffee, and a chance to socialize. Before she leaves, Rena pulls me aside. “Could I speak with you for a minute?”
Oh, shit. She knows. She knows Finn and I crossed the professional line and I’m about to get replaced. Or reprimanded. Or both. I follow her out of the conference room, her assistant striding out of earshot. That doesn’t bode well. I run my sweaty palms down the legs of my jeans. I’d rather be at the dentist getting a root canal than here.
“Finn called me this morning,” she says.
“Oh?”
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