Love Me (Promise Me Book 4)

by Brea Viragh

  Yes, it had taken a literal village, and I was glad to see this one pull together. Despite my rocky start, and even rockier last few weeks, I knew this was a town of people who cared. People who would come together when needed to make something spectacular happen.

  “I’m going to get another glass.” June drained the last of her sparkling wine and indicated a young server near the bar. “Do you want anything?”

  There were too many wants to name. A million dollars and a car named Porsche to start. “No, I’m fine. You go ahead and do whatever it is you need to do.”

  I watched June saunter across the room, channeling her inner Hollywood diva.

  “Hey, Ros.” The mild, lazy voice plucked the strings of my heart.

  I whirled around, nearly spilling my entire glass of red wine when I collided with Finn’s chest. Scowling over the rim and attempting to get my bearings back, I asked, “What are you doing here?”

  He was a picture of rugged glamour, his black jacket a hair too loose and the white shirt underneath a hair too tight. The tie he’d left undone, hanging around his neck. I watched the play of light and shadow across his Adam’s apple. Would it be wrong to lean forward and taste?

  “I’m an invited guest.” Finn gestured toward the small slip of paper in his chest pocket. His invitation. “I’ve spent too much time in rehab to abandon it.”

  “You? Feeling a sense of responsibility?”

  “Right you are,” he answered dryly. “Hard to believe, I know.”

  I was happy to see him. Happy and angry and a whole lot of other things mixed in the batch.

  Any more emotional teeter-tottering and children would sit on me during recess.

  “I’m surprised you showed up. I haven’t heard a peep out of you for the last three weeks.” I sucked in my lips and hid the reaction in a sip of wine.

  “Ros, it takes effort trying to get your business back up and running. Not to mention avoiding you.”

  The nickname popped out of his mouth as natural as any bullshit. I didn’t want to hear it, and worse, I didn’t want to like it. Unfortunately, the tingle of pleasure came whether I wanted it or not.

  “Avoiding me? How amazing. I could have sworn you said you loved me.” The word had acid reflux burning my sternum.

  “People say a lot of things.”

  It was a non-answer. One of his favorite games to play.

  I reversed like a madwoman going the wrong way down a one-way street. “Don’t tell me you’re planning on staying in Heartwood?” Like I needed another layer to add to my anxiety. “I thought you would want to get on your bike and see the world. Or at least put Heartwood in your rearview mirror.”

  “I never said I was staying,” Finn answered.

  The retort on the tip of my lips disintegrated. “What?”

  He shrugged a single shoulder as though shrugging both would be too much effort. “I did a few jobs for old clients before I realized it was impossible to bend my knees or stay on my back for long. I’m going to have to find something else to do, something with less physical stress.”

  We stood side by side surveying the crowd. If I closed my eyes I could focus on the heat from his body. It would be easy to touch him, to take him aside and do the things my body desperately desired.

  “I’m sorry to hear about your business. I’m sure there are other things you can find with a lesser toll.” I spared a look in his direction, intending to eye him up and down and make my meaning clear. Instead his gaze caught mine and held. I felt the contact down to my toes.

  “That’s a nice dress, Ros. Cranberry is your color.”

  “Just don’t, okay?”

  “Don’t what?”

  “Act like no time has passed. You kiss me in front of God and everyone, leave me, and then cost me a sale on the house.”

  His eyes widened, and in them I saw genuine surprise. “We were alone.”

  “Not according to the couple in the driveway who told me I was untrustworthy because I was with you.”

  I expected him to retaliate with some snarky, off-the-wall comment. Instead his expression shifted into sadness. And something very much like regret.

  “Fuck. I’m sorry.”

  I scoffed, turning away and taking another sip. “Don’t worry about me anymore. I’m not your concern.”

  “I’m still sorry.”

  “You’re full of apologies tonight.”

  “Ugh, I could strangle you. Why do you have to be so obstinate?”

  “Because it’s in my nature.”

  He had a great face, I thought, able to show his every emotion if he willed it. It changed from amused to cynical to frustrated in a snap. We both knew we were a breath away from calamity.

  “No. It’s because you know me better than anyone and you can’t reconcile it in your head,” Finn commented.

  “I’m not getting into this with you now.”

  “Fine. Have it your way.”

  The chilly exasperation in his voice would have been off-putting under different circumstances. Finn dumped his drink and took me by the elbow, leading us away from the festivities.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, with equal parts insult and calm.

  He refused to let me go. Pushing ahead when my heels slipped and the soles of my shoes skidded along the tile. I felt the crush of eyes on us. The crowd turning in one motion to watch our retreat.

  “Stop dragging me like a caveman.”

  “Then walk, dammit.” There was an edge to his voice. A subtle warning of an argument brewing.

  I tried to look natural, increasing my gait to match his when he refused to release me. “At least tell me where we’re going.”

  “Somewhere quiet.”

  The Vegas Night fundraiser was my show, something I’d helped put together. I shouldn’t have gone with Finn, not so soon after I’d made a foothold. But damn it, I wasn’t one to walk away from a fight. There was temper in his face, in his voice, the same temper I’d seen barely controlled the first time we’d met.

  We turned the corner into an empty room, containing only chairs and a small table holding a potted fern. Finn dumped me off near the table and headed straight for the wall, his fist knocking hard against the wallpaper. He was primed for an argument.

  “Why don’t you sit down,” he said, as nicely as possible.

  I shook my head. “I don’t want to sit. If we’re going to fight, I’ll do it standing.”

  “There are never any fights with you. You just tell me to go.”

  “It was a simple disagreement. I’ve got your number now.”

  “You want to know about me?”

  “I already know.”

  “Why I have the reputation I do?”

  I needed an outlet for the heat, every spark kindling to life inside of me. There were two ways to do it—we could argue, or we could roll around on the floor with our clothes half off.

  This was something I’d never felt before. A new level of desperation. It was horrifying.

  It was incredible.

  “I’m sure I don’t care,” I answered instead. Only I did care. With my nose forced into the air and a million questions racing through my head, I knew I did care a great deal for Finn.

  And I wished I didn’t.

  “I’m a womanizer, sure,” Finn admitted, throwing his arms this way and that. “I go to bars and pick up lonely souls who have a need. It didn’t start that way, and I didn’t intend to let it get so far as to affect the one person I care for.”

  “I’m sure you don’t mean me.” I lifted my near-empty glass in a mock toast to him.

  “Will you stop being so goddamn stubborn and let me finish?” His face screwed up, and there was the jerk I knew and recognized. Then he inched closer, placing fingers beneath my chin and turning my head to face him. “I first moved to Heartwood when I was twenty-two, after floating around the east coast for a bit. My parents were long gone and I’d overstayed my welcome with the rest of my extended family. I did a bi
t of traveling and followed a chick here. To this cozy mountain town.” He spat the last few words out before continuing, pacing forward. “She moved on, but I stuck around. I met a girl—”

  I wasn’t surprised. “Sure you did. There’s always a girl.”

  “I fell head over heels. She was everything to me. Part of the reason I wanted to stay in Heartwood. And I’m not ashamed to admit it. Just like I’m not ashamed to admit it knocked me on my ass when I found out she was pregnant.” He lowered his voice, though he could have shouted. “And still in high school. And only eighteen.”

  “Eighteen?” It tore from my throat in a screech loud enough to have reverberations heard around the world. “You have got to be kidding me.”

  “She’d told me she was twenty-one, and I was stupid enough to believe her.” Finn scratched his head and I saw an openness, a vulnerability I wasn’t accustomed to seeing. “You have to trust me when I tell you I didn’t know.”

  “How could you not know, Finn?” I glanced over my shoulder, unsure where to look. “Didn’t you wonder where she went during the day?”

  “I did, but she told me she had a job in the next county, and I believed her. I believed whatever she told me because I was gullible and naïve. I hadn’t lived enough to know. I hadn’t lived enough to be a father.”

  Bitterness paired well with the glass of ’92 cabernet sauvignon he took from me and slugged back.

  I didn’t want to know what came next. Or maybe I did. Maybe I craved the information like a recovering alcoholic at an open bar. “What happened?”

  “You want me to tell you I tucked tail and ran. That the second I found out what had happened, I jumped on the bike and bolted.”

  It would be typical of him. To watch out for his own hide instead of stepping up and doing what was necessary. I opened my mouth to speak, then shut it again.

  “I didn’t,” he went on. “I told her I would get a second job. A third job. Anything I had to do to make it right and take care of her and the baby. I’m not sure it would have worked out in the long run, but fuck if I wouldn’t try. Then her father and brother showed up at my door and beat the ever-loving shit out of me. There wasn’t much else they could do. She was eighteen and no longer a minor. But she was a Brown, and therefore I wasn’t good enough for her.”

  “Finn—”

  “Just in case you ever wondered, Ros,” he said, his face darkening, “ever had the slightest bit of curiosity why your ex-boyfriend Weston Brown hates me, it’s because I got his sister pregnant.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  I fought to swallow my feelings quickly. They had an acrid taste, like crumbs left to blacken at the bottom of an oven. It was better than turning into a shrieking banshee in the middle of the fundraiser. I could almost swear I saw smoke trailing from my own nostrils.

  “You…wait, you…what?”

  I raised a hand to my head when a flash of physical pain swept through me. Part of me wondered if this was what an aneurism felt like. Maybe I was going to drop dead in the middle of the party, in the middle of Finn’s revelation.

  “Winter Brown was an eighteen-year-old high school senior carrying my bastard child. I’m sure you can guess what happened.”

  “She…had an abortion?”

  “No, but the same end result.” Finn’s fists curled at his sides, knuckles white and tendons popping. “I was in the hospital getting my front teeth replaced and making sure there was no internal bleeding from four cracked ribs when she had a miscarriage.”

  “I’m sorry.” It wasn’t enough; it would never be enough. “She lost the baby?”

  “Weston came to my hospital bed and made sure I knew what had happened and what he would do to me if I ever laid a hand on his sister again. He took a great deal of pleasure in telling me that my child had disappeared down a toilet.”

  “That was his sister.”

  Finn swiveled me around to face him. “I understand affection, wanting to protect the ones you love. I loved her, too. Winter was my life until one day she wasn’t. Trust me when I tell you, I may be a pompous ass, but there’s more to me.”

  “Where is she now?” I wanted to know.

  “They sent her away to some boarding school out of state. We didn’t exactly keep in touch. You can bet your ass the males of the Brown family stayed here to keep a close watch on the troublemaker who caused it all. And you know what I did? I went out and fucked whomever I could find. To spite them.”

  “Seems like you did it more to spite yourself.” My voice shook and my attention turned to his hands on me.

  “I probably did. I stayed around to be a blight they couldn’t ignore. You wouldn’t understand. I needed to be where they could see me. Where we could see each other. I wanted your boyfriend to know I was here and I wasn’t going away.”

  I reached across to touch Finn, my fingers covering his rapidly beating heart. “And your reputation got worse and worse.”

  “Some of the things you’ve heard are lies,” he responded, inching closer. “There will always be lies sprinkled in with the truth. I’m not half as bad as what you’ve been led to believe.” His voice dropped. “Then again, maybe I am.”

  I wasn’t sure what to think, what to believe. Did I trust in this story, which painted a darker picture of Weston than it did Finn?

  “I don’t know what to believe…I don’t know what to do.” I kept my voice soft to match his.

  “Stop pretending nothing will change, Ros.” Finn sighed, releasing the tight grip he held on me, reaching down and lacing our fingers together. “At least admit it.”

  “Admit it,” I repeated stupidly.

  “I can’t stay, I know, and you can’t budge. At least we should be honest with each other.”

  I wasn’t sure I had the strength for it. To admit how I felt meant breaking a dam, one I’d tried desperately hard to shore up. To be honest meant I was wrong for what I’d done. I had a hard time swallowing my culpability, even in the face of this new evidence. “This is scary.”

  He lowered his forehead to mine. “Yeah, being in love with a psycho sure is scary.”

  I jerked back. “I’m not a psycho!”

  “You didn’t hear me.” Finn slowly straightened, as if afraid something between us would shift and shatter. “I told you I loved you. For the first time in my life, I’ve met a woman I can picture a future with. And you’re gonna tell me how scared you are?”

  I nodded, and we stood staring at each other. “I’m not sure what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything.” He gave a little laugh. “I just want you to understand me a little better before I have to leave.”

  I clutched at his jacket. “Please don’t. Not yet.”

  “I thought you wanted me to go?” he asked after several seconds when I failed to continue. “Or am I wrong again? Please enlighten me.”

  What had happened to us?

  I might as well have been made of wood and stone for all my caring, moving in circumscribed ways. Trying to think of careful things in a removed manner.

  “It was me,” I admitted for the first time, shaking my head. “Okay? I focused on protecting myself from any hurt, any chance of hurt, even if it meant holding on to my ridiculous pride instead of allowing in a chance to be happy.” I lifted my shoulders and let them fall. “Really, honestly happy. Finn, I didn’t want you to hurt me or my reputation. I ran before someone could say something.”

  “I tried not to hurt you, Ros. You were careless with me, too full of your own pride to realize you were being callous. Did you ever think about the opposite? Maybe you hurt me?”

  I frowned up at him, the remark tightening the knot in my belly. Tears were there, ready to come the moment I acknowledged them. Tears, but also love.

  Tipping my face up to his, I could only apologize again. “I’m sorry.”

  “Come here.” He drew me close and I buried my nose in the crook of his neck. Breathed in the familiar earthy, salty combination I’d come to asso
ciate with him.

  “I didn’t realize,” I insisted. “I didn’t know what to think or what to believe. I wanted to be safe. Accepted.”

  “You’re being too hard on yourself.”

  “You’re not being hard enough. You’re putting me first when I don’t deserve it. I was cruel to you.”

  Finn was silent a moment, and I realized the room had gone quiet. I couldn’t hear the sound of the party anymore. His hands continued to trace a path along my shoulder blades.

  “We move on from it. I don’t blame you. I’m a fuck-up. I’d be reluctant to take me on, too.”

  Unable to hold out against the tide of feeling, I burrowed closer and managed a wobbly smile. “You’re getting the worst end of the deal.”

  “We need to talk about the move, Ros. I—”

  The unexpected clearing of a throat broke up our embrace, and I shifted to see Weston staring at us from the doorway.

  “River.”

  My name, a single word, slashed across the space and bit deep into my skin.

  “Weston, what are you doing here?”

  Finn’s fingers tightened on my shoulders and kept me rooted in place when I would have broken apart. I would have offered up excuses for our closeness instead of standing up for us the way I knew I should.

  “I came back for the fundraiser, but it seems I’m interrupting.” Weston glanced down at his manicured nails. He’d dressed for the occasion in gray slacks and a black jacket tailored flawlessly to his frame. The bowtie was impeccable around his neck, the perfect accessory for his appearance at Vegas night. This was no hustler, no gambler ready to hit the jackpot.

  I might have been wrong about the first one, though.

  “I came hoping we could talk,” he continued, “but the River I knew seems to have been misplaced with someone else. Do you know where I can find her?”

  “Step away, Brown.” Finn straightened his back, and when he spoke there was ice in his tone. “There’s nothing for you to see here.”