by Roni Loren
“Almost done with the cowboy, photog? He’s looking like he needs a smoke and some beef jerky,” Finn called out.
Liv glanced back at him with a smile. “Almost. I’ve got a few minutes of light left. Fading on me?”
He leaned back and stretched his arm over the back of the bench. “Nah, I can go all night.”
She rolled her eyes. “Stop with the double entendre.”
He chuckled. “Just paying you back.”
Liv had set the bar this morning when she’d overheard him in the workout room. He’d been mortified that she’d heard him in such a weak moment, a moment where his body and libido had overtaken his plans to work out his frustration in the gym. But instead of making the situation painfully awkward or embarrassing, she’d teased him—and admitted she’d sought her own relief last night. Not that he was ever going to be able to get that distracting image out of his mind. But he appreciated her ease and openness around him. That was what had drawn them together in the past, too. No bullshit. Just being honest and playful and leaving the pretense out of it.
So even though it was a dangerous line to walk, he’d accepted that if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em. She knew he wanted her in his bed. He didn’t have to pretend that wasn’t there between them. She also understood why they shouldn’t act on that, which meant they could playfully flirt without the pressure of it having to mean something more.
He could handle that. Probably.
His phone buzzed against his hip. He pulled it out of his pocket. An email from Billings, checking in, and another from his mother, asking when he was coming to visit now that he was off assignment. He groaned, not wanting to deal with either.
The first he couldn’t ignore. He lifted his phone. “Liv, turn around and strike a pose. I need my weekly proof for boss man.”
Liv spun around and walked over, setting down her camera and plucking the phone out of his hand. She slid into the spot next to him on the bench and held up the phone in selfie mode. She put her head next to his.
“Say cheese.”
“Nope.”
“Fine.” Right before snapping the pic, she reached over and pinched his nipple hard.
“Hey!”
Click.
The photo appeared on the screen. Finn’s face scrunched and Liv sticking her tongue out. She laughed and set the phone on his lap. “There you go.”
“Least professional picture ever.”
She bumped shoulders with him. “You’re supposed to be on vacation. Serious pictures aren’t going to help.”
He rubbed his chest and his abused flesh. “Damn, woman. You’ve gotten rougher in your old age.”
She grinned. “I remembered how much you loved when I did that.”
“Right. Such fond, sore memories,” he said wryly. “Why did I invite you to hang out with me again?”
“Aw, don’t be like that.” She kissed her fingers and gently rubbed the place she’d pinched. “There. All better.”
Her hand on his chest was a different kind of jolt to his system, adept fingers stroking in a suddenly sensitive place. He cleared his throat, and she dropped her arm to her lap.
“So, ready to head out or want a few more?” he asked.
She glanced at the statue. “I—”
Bang!
The blast of the gunshot rent through the peaceful quiet and whatever Liv was going to say. Liv’s eyes went wide and Finn leapt from his spot, grabbing her around the waist. He hauled them both to the ground and rolled her beneath him, covering her with his body.
A few voices sounded around them, but all Finn could focus on was Liv’s trembling body and figuring out which direction the shot came from. Back left near the trees, from what he could tell. He cursed himself for leaving his gun in the car.
“Finn,” Liv said, her voice shaking.
“Shh. Just stay down. I’ve got you.”
He strained his ears, anticipating the next shot, calculating how he could get Liv to safety. There was a sculpture three yards away that could offer some protection. He turned his head toward the woods. But instead of finding what he expected—a park of people scattering—an elderly couple was standing there staring down at them, blocking his view.
“What are you doing?” he barked. “Get down!”
The man smiled, his fisherman’s hat shielding his eyes. “It’s okay, son. It was just the starting pistol for the race.”
“What?”
The woman crooked a finger toward the far side of the park and gave him a kind look. “The charity relay. That starting shot was loud. Scared the biscuits out of me, too. But everything’s okay.”
“Oh.” Finn let out a breath. Shit. “Thanks.”
The woman smiled, looking more than a little amused, and the couple strolled off hand in hand.
Finn rolled off Liv and looked over at her, finding her in full scowl.
“Liv, I’m sorry. I thought—”
“A freaking starter pistol?” she demanded, cutting off his apology. “Christ, they should warn people. This isn’t the goddamned Olympic games.”
Her words were annoyed, but her voice and hands were shaking. Damn. If anything could set off a panic attack for Liv, it was this. Ten years ago, this would’ve had him in full freak-out, too. He grabbed her hands and squeezed. “Yeah, a warning would’ve been nice. You okay?”
She flexed her fingers in his hold and took a deep breath. “I’m all right. Just give me a sec. I think it’s just an adrenaline rush making me shake.”
He helped her to sit up and continued to rub her cold hands. “I’m sorry if I made it worse. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just reacted.”
“Not your fault.” She gave him a quivery smile. “This anxiety thing can be a pain in the ass. But seeing you go all Rambo might’ve been worth it.”
He sniffed. “You mean going all paranoid.”
She tucked her knees beneath her and reached out to brush some dirt off his shirt. “No. That wasn’t being paranoid. It was being brave. You protected me.”
He shrugged, still keeping hold of her other hand. “That’s my job.”
She pinned him with a look. “No, it’s not. You’re not on duty right now. I wouldn’t expect or want you to take a bullet for me.”
The words dug into his skin, burrowed in deep. He didn’t want that kind of pass from her. He reached up and cupped her chin. “You need to expect more of me then.”
She frowned, big brown eyes holding even bigger questions.
“I know you don’t need a protector. But if you’re with me, you’re getting one,” he said, his voice coming out rough. “I’m never going to be that guy who left you vulnerable again. I can’t offer much these days, but I can promise you that. I’ve got your back, Livvy. I can keep you safe.”
She looked down and wet her lips. “You’re making me forget to have a panic attack.”
“Good.”
“Finn?”
“Hmm?”
She leaned forward and put her face inches from his. “Don’t make me be the one to kiss first this time.”
His thoughts stuttered, ran into each other. “What?”
“Not asking twice.”
He didn’t need her to. Not letting himself think about how this was a bad idea or how they’d made an agreement, he shifted his knees wide, grabbed Liv’s belt loop, and guided her to him. She slid into his space like she was meant to be there, and he took her face in his hands, closing his eyes and bringing her lips to his.
The minute they connected, every muscle in his body softened, like a snake that had been coiled for hours and finally let loose to strike. Her mouth was warm against his, eager, and sweet from the ice cream they’d eaten after lunch. She parted her lips on a groan and he took advantage, slipping his tongue against hers and deepening the kiss.
She gripped his shirt, shifted her legs to straddle his hips, and gently pushed back on him. He let her guide him back down to the grass. He was used to taking the lead with women, and she was letting him control the kiss, but he liked that she was just as hungry as he was. More. More. More. The word was a silent chant between both of them.
He slipped his hand around her and pressed her chest to his, loving all that soft femininity against him and the heat of her. He dragged his hand up to the back of her neck, murmuring her name against her lips like a prayer. He could do this forever.
“On your left!”
The shout startled him out of his erotic plans, and Liv broke away from the kiss, turning her head toward the voice. A group of joggers came pounding by on the running path next to them, their paper numbers flapping in the wind, and their attention on the sprawled couple making out in full view of everyone. Some expressing their disapproval. Some smiling. Most just gawking.
“On your right!” Liv called out and waved. “Lower right.”
Finn closed his eyes and let his head fall back to the grass, laughter rumbling through him.
Liv flattened her hands against his chest once the group was gone and whispered, “Hey, Batman.”
He looked up at her, finding her grinning down at him. “Yes, dear?”
“We suck at the stealth kiss.”
“You think? We must have unresolved exhibitionist tendencies. Take off your shirt, and we’ll find out.”
She sniffed and got off him, letting him sit up. “I’ll pass.”
He climbed to his feet and helped her to hers. “Your loss. I would’ve taken off mine.”
“We also suck at this boundaries thing. You can’t…” She pressed her lips together and made some swirling motion with her finger.
“Can’t what? Kiss you when you blatantly demand I do it?”
She flinched. “No. Say sweet stuff like you did. Flirting’s on the table. That…that is not.”
His brows lifted. “Okay, so say asshole things instead?”
“Yes. That’d be better. Be an asshole.” She grabbed her camera, tucked it in her bag, and then slung the bag over her shoulder. “I know you’ve had a lot of practice at that.”
“I really don’t need to practice. That comes naturally. But fair warning, you might find that irresistibly hot, too.”
She groaned.
“What? I’m following instructions. That was an asshole thing to say.”
She bit her lip, and a small smile broke through. “Come on. Time to go home before we get kicked out for lewd behavior.”
He grabbed her other bag. “If that’s what you consider lewd, you haven’t lived yet, Arias.”
Her smile sagged and she turned toward the parking lot as he fell into step beside her. “Don’t try to out-lewd me. I was that girl in college. My rap sheet is probably way more scandalous than yours. And here I am, basically throwing myself at a guy again when we’ve made an agreement to keep it platonic.”
He glanced over at her, not liking how she said it, like it was some sort of damning sentence. He grabbed her hand, halting her. “Hey.”
She didn’t look at him. “What?”
“You’re not throwing yourself at me. And this—us—is never going to be platonic.”
Her gaze jumped to his.
“We may be able to keep from going to bed together because we’re trying to be smart about this, but don’t fool yourself into thinking that the thing we have between us is going to go away. The attraction is always there. Knowing we can’t have it makes it worse. It’s like being locked in a room with fresh baked cookies but only being allowed to smell them and not take a bite.”
She frowned.
“But the difficulty of resisting is still worth the effort because I know that, at least for me, I haven’t had fun like this in a really long time. I don’t have rock-skipping contests. I don’t get to relax and joke around with someone who I don’t have to bullshit. I don’t get to scandalize a group of joggers. And I know it’s pretty obvious, but I live a lonely fucking life on purpose. I like it that way. But when you’re around, you make me not want to.”
“Finn…” She blinked, her eyes going shiny in the fading sunset, and shoved him lightly. “You’re not sticking to the asshole rule, asshole.”
His lips curved, and he grabbed her hand. “Sorry. I’ll try harder.” He stepped back and gave her an exaggerated up-and-down look. “You also have a great rack. Like top-notch.”
She smirked, then tipped her chin up. “That’s not being an asshole. That’s stating the obvious.”
He laughed. “True enough.”
She shook her head, tugging on his hand. “Come on. Now I’m hungry. Let’s run by the grocery store, and I’ll fix us a nice platonic dinner.”
“So no hot dogs and buns?”
She pulled him toward the parking lot and grinned. “Or pigs in a blanket.”
“See, Livvy, you get me.”
And she did.
That was the most dangerous part of it all.
chapter
FIFTEEN
Liv and Finn had planned another night by the fire and a rock-skipping rematch. But on their way home, clouds had rolled in and rain had followed soon after. So instead of heading outside after dinner, they’d dug through the dusty DVD collection and had decided to watch The Wedding Singer. The main house had a screened-in porch with a TV, so they’d set themselves up out there, listening to the falling rain and laughing at Adam Sandler singing “Love Stinks.”
Finn had dutifully sat on the opposite side of the couch from her, but Liv hadn’t been able to stop herself from glancing at him throughout the movie. The easy way he draped his arm over the back of the couch and took up space. The deep, full sound of his laughter when a funny part came up. The way he kept peeking at her to see if she was laughing, too.
Today he’d kissed her, but more than that, she couldn’t shake the memory of him blanketing her when he thought shots were being fired. For all the years since the shooting, she’d resented the fact that he’d abandoned her that night. But today, when she’d been pinned under him, thinking they were under attack again, she’d felt utter and complete panic…for him.
The thought of him taking a bullet for her hadn’t comforted her. It had scared her to the core. She didn’t want him sacrificing himself on her behalf. And, she realized, she wouldn’t have wanted it back then either. She couldn’t imagine living her life, knowing he’d given up his for hers. But beyond that, it was his job now. The man spent his existence risking himself for the safety of others.
Knowing he could be taken from this earth at any time as part of his job had bone-deep fear going through her—and gave her yet another reason why she couldn’t let herself get attached to him. She couldn’t take that kind of loss. Not again.
But even knowing that, she couldn’t deny that what he’d said at the park was true. They could try to ignore the pull between them, but it wasn’t going to go away. Not only that, but being together and not acting on it was making it worse.
She should probably walk away now. Call this weekend a one-time thing and create some distance. Protect herself. That was the smart thing. That was what had kept her sane and stable the last few years—keeping distance from everyone and everything having to do with her past. But instead, this growing sense of restlessness tugged at her.
“You want a decaf?”
“Huh?” Finn asked, glancing her way.
She untucked her legs from beneath her and got up from the couch. “I’m craving coffee. You want any?”
He shrugged. “Yeah, sure. I can make it if you want.”
“No, I’ve got it.”
Liv went inside, the sounds of the movie fading behind her, and made her way into the kitchen. She ignored the coffeepot and dug through the things she’d bought at the store,
nerves making her hands shake a little. She found what she was looking for and popped them in the microwave. She didn’t let herself think, just went through the motions—one step, then the next—until she was back at the doorway that led to the porch.
She peered in. Finn’s gaze was on the TV, a hint of amusement on his face. The rain poured down behind him, pinging against the metal roof. He’d changed into black athletic pants and a Texas Longhorns T-shirt after dinner, looking like some high school fantasy of hers all grown up, making her mind drift down that what-if path. What if the shooting hadn’t happened? What if that kiss had never been interrupted? Would they have figured out how to be together after high school? Would they have been sneaking into each other’s dorm rooms in college? Would she have managed sober sex in college instead of creating the train-wreck version of herself? Or would they have parted ways anyway? Was the fantasy only enticing because she’d told herself they couldn’t have it?
She’d slept with so many guys since she’d known him. Guys whose names she couldn’t remember. Guys she hadn’t given a damn about. Guys who’d treated her like she was something to use up and toss out. She’d given them her body without a second thought. And here was Finn, a guy she cared about, a guy who cared about her, a guy who hadn’t touched a woman in two years but was keeping his hands to himself despite her slipups. A guy who’d protected her today without hesitation.
She couldn’t stop herself. The words came out.
“Are you doing this for me or for you?” she asked loud enough to be heard over the rain and TV.
Finn turned his head, brows knit. “What? The movie?”
She rubbed her lips together, heartbeat in her ears, heat creeping up her neck. “No. The ignore-the-lust thing. Is that for my benefit or yours?”