by Gina Azzi
“Of course,” he answers quickly before turning to me. The blue in his eyes darkens, and a small frown mars his lips. “We’re not done with this conversation, Dais.”
“Go check on Olivia.”
A storm passes over his expression before he turns on his heel and strides toward his family.
“Everything okay?” Carter asks, twirling me the way he did when I was a little girl.
I grin at my brother, not wanting to talk about Finn and me, or the lack thereof, or give away too much about the obvious trouble brewing in Aaron’s life. “Everything’s fine,” I fib.
Carter twirls me once more. “Then it’s time for Kane family shots,” he announces, tugging me toward the bar where Denver and Jax are waiting, a line of shot glasses in front of them.
“What’s this?” I ask, turning to look for Sierra, Taylor, and Evie.
“Jim Beam,” Den replies, nudging the glass with the dark liquid in front of me.
I raise my eyebrows. “Are y’all trying to kill me?”
“Nope. At least, not yet,” Carter jokes, pulling me into his side. He lifts his shot glass and the rest of us do the same. “To the Kanes. No matter what we do, or where we go, this will always come first.” He looks at each of us solemnly, and I feel the backs of my eyes prick with moisture at the thoughtfulness behind his words.
“To us,” Jax adds.
“To being a Kane,” Den concludes.
“Love you guys,” I throw out, clinking my shot glass with theirs.
Tossing back the shot, the alcohol burns my throat and blazes a trail of fire to my stomach, warming me up from the inside out. Staring at my brothers’ faces, I know that no matter what happens in Edinburgh, with or without Finn, with or without my childhood home, I can always count on them to have my back, to be there for me. I guess it’s true that your home is where your people are.
19
Finn
Leaving Daisy in the arms of any man is difficult, and my only comfort is that it’s her own brother. I don’t look back as I cut across the dance floor, making a bee line toward my brother and niece.
“Aar,” I say softly, meeting his gaze as I drop to my knee in front of Olivia.
My brother turns away and lifts a hand, indicating he needs a minute. As he turns toward the bar, I give him a quick nod, letting him know I’ll keep an eye out for Olivia.
“You want to dance, little lady?” I ask her, holding out my hand with a flourish.
She giggles sweetly, nodding her head until her blonde curls bounce. Placing her hand in mine, I lead her out onto the dance floor. She stands on my shoes, holding onto me tightly as I spin and dip her around the room. Her laugh is infectious and within a few minutes, I find myself loosening up again, choosing to ignore my brother’s drama, so I can enjoy this carefree moment with my niece.
“You like dancing, Liv?”
She looks up at me, her blue eyes wide. “I take ballet lessons.”
“I know you do. It’s going well?”
She shrugs, looking down at our feet for a brief moment before meeting my gaze again. “Mummy says I may have to stop soon as the lessons are very expensive, and she doesn’t know if Daddy will keep paying for it.”
What the hell is going on?
“Aww, I’m sure that’s not true. You know your Daddy wants you to be happy. He loves you,” I say, not fully following Olivia’s thought process or my sister-in-law’s reasoning but knowing enough to feel a swell of anger rise through my limbs.
Olivia beams up at me, and I use the moment to twirl her around, hoping to at least distract her from whatever is going on between her parents.
Shortly after my dance with Olivia, dinner is served, and I take my seat, grateful to be at the same table as Daisy. When her eyes settle on me, she gestures for me to take the seat next to her.
Remembering our earlier, unfinished conversation, an irrational desperation to claim her buzzes through me. Who the hell are the guys she spoke of from her past? Is it just the two guys she was serious with or has she dated others in a more casual capacity? And what does it mean that we’re sometimes different?
As Daisy’s laughter fills my ears and the scent of her flowery perfume washes over me, I know if any woman could convince me to change my previous convictions regarding relationships, it would be her. Especially tonight.
And for the first time in a long time, I want to take a step forward. To believe in more again.
20
Daisy
I’m in the hallway, just outside the reception area, taking a breather from my nonstop dancing and clearing my head from the buzz of the shots I’ve taken when I spot Finn. His eyes meet mine, and a wolfish smile flickers across his lips, causing my mouth to water. He tilts his head the tiniest bit to the left, as if he’s studying me before nodding to himself, his mind made up.
A thrill licks low in my stomach under his unwavering attention. Recalling Sierra’s whispered words of “he’s going to make a move,” earlier today, I clench my hands together hoping this is the moment that Finn finally makes us official. It’s going to be tonight.
His gaze pins me in place before his body shadows mine, causing me to step backwards until my back is flush against the wall, and my front is flush against… him. The top buttons of his white dress shirt are open, the sleeves rolled up on his corded forearms.
His dark hair is disheveled, as if he’s run his fingers through it in frustration. The smell of Scotch mixed with mint clings to him, and I inhale deeply, my body turning to mush as his hips pin mine to the wall. But it’s his eyes, blazing, uninhibited, borderline wild, that electrifies every single nerve ending in my being, making thought and speech impossible.
His hand comes up slowly as he gazes at me with a reckless hunger that thrills me. I’ve never seen Finn so undone before, and the fact that he’s looking at me with such genuine interest and willful intent stamped across his face is a heady feeling, chasing away any doubt I’ve ever had about him.
I know we’ve been drinking. Heavily. But instead of that being a reason to question things, it makes me feel bolder, more confident about me and Finn than I ever have before.
Especially when he utters the following, “Jesus, Daisy. I want you.”
My heart gallops in my chest, and a trail of goose bumps break out across my arms as his fingers connect with the side of my face, sweeping an errant hair behind my ear and pinching my earlobe delicately.
I stifle the moan traveling up my throat and continue to watch him in awe, mesmerized by the emotions openly flickering across his face, when he usually conceals his feelings.
“Daisy.” He rakes his hand over his hair again, adding to the messy sexiness of it, and growls out a string of profanities under his breath. “Christ, I don’t know what to do with you.”
“You don’t?” I finally whisper, coy and flirty and breathless.
Finn’s nostrils flare, and I bite my bottom lip to keep from smiling. In the next instant, Finn grips my shoulders and pulls me into him, hard, until we’re melded together, and his mouth fuses with mine.
He works my lips with a hunger, a desire that borders on need, and I open up to him immediately, sighing as his tongue dips into my mouth and dances with mine.
His hands slide from my shoulders to the small of my back, providing a cushion between my body and the wall, as he steps into me once more. My hands roam over his broad shoulders, the wide planes of his back, gliding down the narrow taper of his waist. My nails scratch up his spine as I try to work his shirt lose and he hisses, dropping his head to my shoulder.
“We should—”
“Get out of here,” I finish for him, reality briefly returning as I remember we aren’t in the most secluded place.
“I have a room,” he says.
“Take me.”
He looks up then, the alcoholic glaze from earlier completely gone as his eyes regard me with their usual solemnity. “Right now?”
“Yes,” I whisper, irrit
ated by his stalling.
He watches me for several long seconds, and something shifts between us, the desperation from moments earlier slowing into a sweet intimacy that fills me with nerves and excitement.
“Come on.” He steps back, clearing his throat and extending his hand.
Placing my hand in his, he laces our fingers together and tugs me down the hallway and up a back staircase until we’re in a narrow corridor outside his room.
“This place is from the 1800’s,” I comment randomly, my nerves ticking up as silence extends between us. I can’t figure out why, but things suddenly seem different between us, more emotional, more intimate. More sacred.
Finn unlocks the door and steps back, so I can enter first. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever the night has in store for me, for us, as the lock catches the latch, and I sense—feel—Finn’s body hover closer to mine, until his hands rest on my hips, his lips drop to the side of my neck, and my eyes close, my body succumbing to the deliciousness of this moment.
Dropping my head to Finn’s shoulder, I sigh into his shirt, trapping the heat between us as my breathing grows ragged. I hear Finn’s breath catch as emotions we don’t voice swell between us. He pulls back, looking at me with a reverence, a sweetness, that I cling to. Reaching up, I intertwine my arms around Finn’s neck and press kisses up the column of his throat until my lips find his once more. He pulls me into him, unzips my gown slowly until it pools at my feet. I start to slide off my heels but he shakes his head.
“Leave them.” His voice is unhurried and husky, molasses poured over gravel. His hands caress me, his fingertips like fire as they glide over my skin.
Laying me down on the bed, he hovers over me, his eyes filled with too many emotions to count, too many feelings he’s never shared with me before. Free-falling into the blue depths of his gaze, my hands tug Finn closer until he erases the space between us and we create something new, something beautiful.
It’s hours later, and the quietness of the room is making me restless. That and the cotton mouth threatening to choke me from too many shots and not enough water. I shift my weight, watching as the thin sheet draping over Finn’s body dips lower. I bite my lip at his sleeping naked form and take a moment to settle against my pillows and enjoy the sheer magnitude of the moment.
What Finn and I did tonight, it was more than just sex.
It was an expression of love in physical form.
And it happened at my best friend’s wedding.
#Winning
Too euphoric to feel the extent of my impending hangover, I force myself to stand up and drink some tap water from the bathroom sink’s faucet. After spending a few minutes using the restroom and staring at my reflection—my cheeks are flushed, my eyes are shiny, and my hair looks awesome in one of those I-just-had-sex styles—I tug on Finn’s robe and return to bed.
To find him… awake.
“Hey love.” he says softly, sitting up in bed and dropping an arm behind his head as he settles against the pillows, his stupidly sculpted torso on full display. “You okay?”
“I’m great. Better than great,” I admit and Finn chuckles, lifting the sheet so I can slide back underneath.
“Me too. Better than great.”
“Good.” I settle next to him and close my eyes, enjoying the moment and yelling at my mind to stop running in a million different directions with a bazillion thoughts. Let Finn broach the subject, let him bring up the topic of being a real couple.
I wonder if he’ll bring it up tonight?
What will he say?
What if Sierra was wrong or misunderstood?
What if he doesn’t bring it up at all?
What—
“Hey, where’d you go?” he asks gently, his brogue thicker from alcohol, sex, and sleep. What a delicious combination.
“Just thinking.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what? Think?”
He slides a hand up my cheek and tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. Pinching my earlobe, I turn toward him to note that he’s angled his body closer to mine. His eyes bore into me, through me, as he drops his hand, his fingers swiping against the inside of my wrist. “Don’t go assuming a bunch of things or analyzing something I said or did. Whatever you want to know or are thinking about, just talk to me.”
“Well, I’ve been meaning to do just that.” I blurt, too eager to bite my tongue.
“Alright.” He inches his pillow closer to mine. “Have at it.”
“You really want to do this?” I wonder, surprised by his openness. Most guys don’t want to talk about anything after sex. Especially mind-blowing, earth-shattering, emotionally-overwhelming sex. Unless it’s when there’s going to be more sex.
“Ask me anything. Tell me anything.”
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about –”
“Finn? You in there?” Aaron’s voice calls through the door, followed by his fist pounding against it.
Finn winces and I groan internally at the horrible timing.
“Give me a minute. I’ll get rid of him.” Finn slides out from under the sheet and rummages in his suitcase for a pair of sweatpants.
I sit up in bed, tugging the sheet up to cover my bare chest. Damn it. I really want to have this conversation with Finn. But I also know that for Aaron to stand in the hallway and bang on Finn’s door means he needs his brother.
“It’s okay.” I admit reluctantly. “Just, stall him to give me a minute, okay?”
Finn turns to me, a frown marring his mouth but a flicker of gratitude for my understanding in his eyes. “You sure?”
“Yeah, we’ll talk later.”
“Tonight.” He confirms.
“Tonight.” I agree, slipping from the bed and into the bathroom to pull myself together so I can re-enter the wedding festivities and not look like I left the reception to have sex.
The thought causes me to laugh since I know Sierra would fully approve.
Denver, not so much.
Finn answers the door and I hear a hushed exchange between him and Aaron although I can’t make out the words.
Several minutes later, I’m dressed, my makeup intact, my hair…well, there’s not much I can do about that except own it. Slipping on my heels and grabbing my clutch, I waltz out of the bathroom and into Finn’s waiting embrace.
He offers me an apologetic smile, his hands cupping my shoulders. “Sorry about the timing, love.”
“It’s okay.”
“I’ll catch up with you in a bit?”
“I’ll be on the dance floor.”
He brushes his lips against mine and walks me out. When I step into the corridor, Aaron looks up from his position holding up the wall across from Finn’s door. He looks awful, his face red, his eyes wild but when he sees me, he ducks his head sheepishly. “Sorry Daisy.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you guys later.”
Walking back down the stairs, I straighten my spine and take a deep breath. Then, I re-enter the wedding reception.
Looking around for the bride, she gives me a massive smile when our eyes meet and flashes me a thumbs up.
I shake my head but smile back and she rolls her eyes.
Even though we didn’t get a chance to discuss our future, in my heart of hearts, I know it’s coming. Finn and I will be together.
21
Finn
“What’s going on?” I ask Aaron after Daisy exits the corridor. My brother stands across from the open door to my room, disheveled, intoxicated, and sad.
“Daisy?” he asks instead, his voice laced with surprise and tinged with judgement.
“Yeah, Daisy.”
“Finn, just be careful. Things with you guys could become complicated really quickly. It’s different when you work together.”
“Thanks.” I say abruptly to signal the end of this part of the conversation. While I will always have Aaron’s back, he doesn’t get to show up at my hotel room unann
ounced, interrupt an important conversation with Daisy, and then judge me for it.
“I just don’t want you to end up like me.” He tempers his tone and I meet his gaze again, wincing at the pain I read in his expression.
“Come on in.” I say, turning around. Striding back into my room, I dig in my suitcase for a T-shirt and tug it over my head.
Aaron collapses in the arm chair by the window and moves the curtain to peer into the darkness. Sighing, he drops the curtain and runs his palms over his face.
“What’s going on?” I repeat, pulling out the desk chair and sitting across from Aaron. “Where’s Liv?”
“She’s dancing the night away with Lachlan.”
“Are you okay?”
“It’s over.” My brother lets out on a long sigh, glancing up. His face crumples, a look of sheer devastation flooding his eyes, as his right leg bounces up and down jerkily. “Kate and me. We’re getting divorced. You were right; she’s been cheating on me.” Aaron’s voice is so low I barely make out the words but when I do, a wave of rage bubbles up my throat. Of course she has.
“Are you sure? Who is he?” I ask, standing from my desk chair so quickly it topples over.
Aaron sighs, shaking his head. “Sit down. It’s honestly not worth getting this worked up over.”
“What? Why not? It’s your marriage.”
“I know. But if you knew the shit she’s been pulling the past eight months, the head games she’s been playing with not just me, but Olivia, you would realize it’s probably for the best. It’s been toxic, Finn. I just wish I recognized it sooner, saw her for who she really is earlier.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “She wants to fight me for custody. As if I’d ever sign over my parental rights to Olivia.”
“She can’t do that,” I say automatically, my mind switching into solicitor mode.