From Winter's Ashes: Girl Next Door Crime Romance Series - Book Two

by Amy Leigh Simpson

  She swatted at the gesture that made her feel five years old. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you all day. Hope I’m not interrupting your afternoon delight with Kendi. Which, by the way, would be a breach of contract. If there was one.” She added, baiting him.

  He didn’t bite. His eyes were unreadable, his expression firmer than his biceps. In fact, it looked more like he was reading her.

  She’d been very nearly drooling moments before but now she had to grate down a gulp of sand dune as she stepped away from his intimate closeness. “Anyway, my dad’s tailor is going to have to reschedule a time to come by and fit you for your tux for next weekend. That is, if you can fit it into your endless parade of girlfriends banging down your door for couch time.” She winced, not having meant to reveal quite that much.

  And of course, the jerk was smiling again, and prowling toward her. “You’re pretty cute when you’re jealous.”

  Backing away, she bumped up against a wall. “I’m not jealous.”

  “No? Hmm …” He stopped an inch short of touching her and bracketed his hands on the wall around her shoulders. “I think you’re running out of excuses, Joss.”

  It was too much. Too close, too revealing. Too … few layers of clothing. She ducked quickly under his arm, but he was hot on her tail again.

  “Feisty.” He darted in front of her. Before she knew it her hands had reached out to his chest and forced him away. “Ooo, and handsy.”

  “You best watch yourself, Finn. I might be the only woman alive immune to your charms. Which means I’m liable to knock that stupid grin right off that handsome face of yours if you keep this up.” The confidence in her tone came out flawless. But then, out of habit, her teeth snatched her bottom lip.

  His eyes lasered to that very spot. Laughter laced his words. “All right, Snow Whyte. Show me what you got?” He raised his fists, pumped his shoulders, and dared her with his sparkling eyes.

  “Don’t. Call me that.” She dropped her purse to the floor and tore away her coat. Bringing her hands up for sparring, she delivered her first strike.

  “Not bad.” His block came easy, his taunt … effortless.

  Fueled by the chance to deliver the blow she’d dreamt about for years, she circled around him, searching for signs of weakness. The kickboxing class she’d taken with Sadie a few years ago had been aerobic torture, but she thought she might remember a few moves. “It was you, wasn’t it? Who coined my lovely nickname?” She threw a right hook.

  He swiveled out of the way. “Seemed to fit the bill. Gorgeous, frosty attitude, your last name sealed the deal.” Two more jabs, he dipped and ducked like a seasoned fighter.

  Her heart went on a rampage. The name had mocked her for two years after he’d graduated. It still popped up in a tabloid now and then. How had she gotten herself mixed up with this guy? Finn freaking Carson. Her worst nightmare.

  But, had he just said that she was gorgeous?

  Before she could ponder that further, her left fist started its pursuit of his arrogant grin. The sudden blast of an old rock song sounded from the kitchen, turning his face into the crossfire of her line drive.

  Contact loosed the grip of her fist, and his head snapped back. Joselyn’s breath gasped from her lungs.

  He stumbled backward, bracing against the front door before slinking down to the floor.

  Oh crap! She scrambled to his side, wilting to her knees. “Finn? Are you all right?” Cupping his face, she removed his hands and roamed for the injury. “I’m so sorry. Where does it hurt?” Her fingers traced the spot near his mouth where she had been aiming, where a red blossom of color was blooming against his golden skin. His eyes tightened.

  She flinched, but instead of retreating fully she detoured and ended up stroking the hair that had fallen over his forehead, testing the texture for the first time. The damp strands were as soft and thick as they looked, and for some reason, it wasn’t enough of a sample until she drenched her fingers in the lush waves.

  The touch was meant to be soothing, to both her curiosity and his anguish, but with his eyes still closed in pain she instinctively leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, the site of her assault.

  The sharp intake of his breath set off a fire alarm in her nervous system. Fingers still tangled in his hair, she pulled away and found his open eyes. Smiling eyes. Not a hint of pain to be found.

  “Sucker.” His voice hummed low and gravelly.

  Breathing out a laugh, she pinched her eyes shut, absorbing some of the shame of her impulsiveness in private. When she got up the nerve to peek at him, she let her hands drop. “All that for one measly little kiss?”

  “It worked, didn’t it?”

  He’d caught her. Now what?

  “Just needed to see how bad you wanted to kiss me.” Long, lean fingers smoothed an errant strand of hair behind her ear, then brushed beneath her jaw to tip up her chin.

  “I think you got that one a little backwards.”

  “No matter. You can still make it up to me?” A devious lift of his eyebrow left no question to his intention.

  “And what exactly am I making up for?” she asked anyway. The close quarters of their huddle swallowed her ability to think, erased her memory, and left everything behind.

  “That one measly kiss, remember?”

  “Ahh, yes. However shall I repay you for such an inadequate gesture?”

  Every trace of teasing faded from his face. “Nothing about it was inadequate, Joss.” The rough pad of his thumb traced her cheek, stoking what was merely an ember to a roaring flame.

  She swallowed down the heady desire to get lost in the moment, straining to focus on his words instead of the overwhelming urge to pacify her pathetic loneliness with his casual affections.

  “W-What about Dodger?”

  “He’s passed out on the bed upstairs.”

  “What about Kendi?” She bit her lip, but it was too late to quell the insecurity that quivered on the thin thread of her voice.

  He touched the corner of her mouth, his thumb stroking gently. “You don’t need to worry about Kendi. You, Joselyn Whyte, are the only girl I’m seeing.”

  Her heart shook at the sincerity in his eyes. She might be a fool, but right in this moment she believed him. “But Finn?” The space between them closed to a sliver.

  “Yes, Joselyn?” His reply grazed her lips.

  “No one’s watching.” She closed her eyes, her forehead resting against his. Every cell in her body vibrating with need and anticipation. And fear.

  His nose nuzzled against hers; his whisper rumbling against her skin like a warning thunder. “We’ll call this one practice.”

  Chapter 21

  Finn Carson

  This was not the plan. This was the furthest thing from the plan. But it was all he wanted. The only thing he could think about since the second he’d swung open that door.

  He’d ruined it from the start. Went completely off script. And now this … this was the consequence of his reckless flirting.

  What a price to pay.

  The draw was so strong he didn’t dare fight it. Their lips brushed. Once. Twice. Three times. Finn’s fingers swept over Joselyn’s fine-boned jaw and locked behind her slender neck. Awakening with the strength and curiosity of each simple prod, he coaxed her lips apart.

  Have mercy.

  She was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. Her lips plush. The exploration soft. Perfect. Her dueling response somehow both passionate yet timid in the most unraveling way.

  Something broke loose in his chest, expanding until the band of reserve that kept his armor in place finally snapped. Bit by bit, touch by touch, the weight of pretense fell away until no shield remained. Full contact. Being defenseless shouldn’t feel so freeing.

  She melted into him like hot wax. Her arms curled up under his with a reverent caress and her hands gripped his shoulders, the intensity in her touch setting his blood ablaze. Man on fire! The final shred of his restra
int went up in flames.

  He groaned into the kiss, holding nothing back, consumed by a need he never knew existed. She took it all and returned it with such fervor and tenderness he wanted to hold his breath to preserve the moment. A moment so surreal and fragile he feared if he stopped to exhale it might slip away like a wisp of smoke. So instead he breathed her in, prolonging the unbearable sweetness. Holding her tighter. Drinking in the desperation of her kiss and feeding his own. She shifted over him, squirming to get closer still and surprised him with a sharp nip of her teeth.

  That was the moment he lost it.

  His mind. His willpower. And every last conviction he carried. Poof.

  As if a separate entity, his hand skimmed the smoking-hot stretch of leather over her slim thigh until he touched the warm satin skin of her waist, splayed his palm over the small of her back and worked his fingers beneath the band with a slight squeeze. The whimper of need that escaped her throat did nothing to douse the fire now raging out of control.

  The second her cool hands settled on his stomach he—

  What was that?

  The bang on the door against his back barely registered at first. But it came again with more force, breaking the spell.

  Their lips wrenched apart, the loss as agonizing as ripping off a patch of his own skin. Her labored breaths against his lips were nearly his undoing. And then, he saw her face. Lord Almighty. Desire pooled in her exotic eyes, wonder lit from beneath her creamy skin, and a coy sweetness touched her mouth before she folded in her freshly stung bottom lip.

  He was mesmerized by the soft flesh he’d just claimed. The craving for more instant and so fierce his taste buds screamed for reunion like a dying flame gasping for oxygen. He traced his knuckles across her cheek, then let his thumb skim her perfect mouth. She drew breath around his touch, the shimmy of air around his skin flashed like glitter through his veins.

  He was defeated. Done for. Even his heart was threatening to expire in surrender, whooped harder than ever, even during his Combat Challenges.

  But what was she feeling? Was this as one-sided as it had been before? Was it possible a kiss so full of honesty could be wrapped up in deception?

  He searched her face for affirmation, and all his doubts crumbled. Her lavender-blue eyes softened, blinking languidly as he leaned in the last inch—

  Another knock made her flinch before he reached paradise. Shifting back, a shiver of goose bumps became the only evidence of her intimate touch.

  “Expecting someone?” she whispered. The words suggested a change of topic, but her eyes continued their current conversation.

  The last thing he wanted was to relinquish the moment, the uncertainty of a repeat performance igniting his greedy desire to ignore the visitor and set the world on fire once more. But the killjoy persisted. “No, I’m not.”

  Finn helped her off the floor and took a deep breath—void of Joselyn’s heady drug—to expel the lingering and reeling effects of their first real kiss. “Yeah, yeah. I’m coming!” He snapped and yanked open the door.

  “Took you long enough. Some hot little number down the hall let me in. Have you hit that? Because I’m considering it.”

  Cody.

  “Now’s not a good time, Large.”

  But it was no use. Even though Finn blocked his entry, Cody had still shoved open the door. “What, you hiding a chick in there or som—Oh … I see … Hello, Snow Whyte.” With a pointed glance at Finn’s bare chest Cody’s eyes narrowed again on Joselyn with untamed hostility. “I see not much has changed.”

  Staying uncharacteristically silent, Joselyn shrank behind Finn’s back.

  Huh. He’d never seen Joselyn yield to anyone. And he hadn’t exactly imagined the way this confrontation might someday play out, but something wasn’t adding up. Now that he thought about it, he realized he hadn’t seen Joselyn and Cody together, in the same room, since prom. In fact, Joselyn hadn’t returned to school for the remainder of the school year after that night. The next time he’d seen her was with Sadie almost a year later when he’d come home from college on spring break and they were full into hating each other’s guts.

  Understanding of the situation had yet to unfold before his eyes. Based on the way iron bars seemed to slam down over her expression, something was missing from this story, and whatever it was, it was not a topic she would discuss lightly. If at all.

  Their relationship might be changing, but that didn’t mean she would trust him enough to fill in the gaps.

  Did he trust her enough to let her see the scars that marred him? Would he ever be ready to open that vein and bleed out all his failures? Exposing the unworthiness that lived and breathed behind the smokescreen? He shook his head.

  A playback of Cody’s words resurrected from the time capsule in his mind. The echoing voice buzzed against the tight string of tension in the room.

  “She said guys like you were beneath her. Can you believe that? That it was laughable you thought you might actually have a chance with someone like her. What a friggin’ witch, huh?”

  The simple dismissal had burrowed deeper and deeper for years, the beastly resentment growing with nowhere to claw but inward, turning the hurt boy into a scarred man he almost didn’t recognize.

  Had she even said those things back then? Cody’s account of her cutting words didn’t seem to fit now that he was getting to know her again.

  But so what if she’d rejected him back then? That was ten years ago. She had just kissed him like he’d never been kissed in his life. And it was more than some flighty moment of attraction. It felt … significant. He restrained himself from touching his lips to reawaken the sensation. Instead he stole a glance over his shoulder.

  Something broke through the solid ice in her eyes. One blink, and the fracture he’d seen froze back over. But that glimpse was unmistakable. And it was the last thing he’d expected to see elicited from an encounter with Cody. Not annoyance. Not anger. Or shame. Not any other thing that could fall an ounce short of … terror.

  Slamming the door in Cody’s face was the only thing that made sense. Wrapping Joselyn’s trembling body in his arms was the only thing he wanted to do. So he did both—feeling like he was drawing a line in the same old sand and had finally chosen the right side.

  He could only hope his instincts wouldn’t fail him again. That maybe his dad’s discerning legacy might begin to find solid ground in his son. Finn needed it now more than ever. Joselyn’s life was in his hands, and Lord knew, that was a dangerous place to be.

  As he held Joselyn, he realized he didn’t have a clue who was trying to kill her or why she might be terrified of Cody. But he knew with a rising certainty that he wanted—needed—to protect her. And that his dad was right. There were two very different sides to this story.

  He intended to find out exactly what they were.

  “Joselyn?” Finn cradled her stiff body, trying to absorb her fear and assure her safety. But her arms didn’t surround him, the rigid plank of her stance all but screamed, “Back off!” So he leaned back, searching her beautiful face for answers.

  Looking up at him from dewy lashes, a shimmering trail of tears sparkled like stardust on her ivory skin. Gathering her face in his hands, he couldn’t help himself. He drew her in and touched his lips to hers, his thumbs soothing away the tears he tasted.

  Right when he thought he’d pushed too hard to comfort her, her body relaxed, surrendered, and her mouth fused with his.

  Her hands skimmed up his chest until her arms encircled his neck, and then fueled by some sort of desperation, she pulled him tight.

  And the fuse lit again. The charge of her lips frying his nervous system until white hot adrenaline flared from his racing heart. Mine. Finally, mine. He deepened the kiss, crushing her to him just as desperately, savoring the feel of her needing him, and realizing how much he needed her too.

  Oh, Joss. Why did I wait so long to do this?

  So he made up for lost time. Much too soon Joselyn j
erked out of his arms. The regret in her eyes should have been sobering, but it only renewed the challenge. Nothing sounded more satisfying than drawing her back, replacing that haunted look with the dreamy, thoroughly ravished one she’d sent his way before Cody’s interruption.

  She touched her mouth, her eyes threatening more tears. “Finn …” His name on her lips sounded like a plea.

  Answering, he took a step toward her. But she backed away, her eyes burning into his.

  “Stop. We can’t. It’s too—”

  The ring of her cell phone severed her words. Clearly grasping for an escape, she lunged toward her purse. He circled her wrist before she answered the phone, speaking firmly over the jingle. “Too what, Joss?”

  Turning away, she tugged her hand free to take the call. “Hello?”

  Undeterred, he spun her around to face him. She lifted her gaze for a moment before fixating on the floor. Her eyes held a sadness he’d often mistaken for apathy. His quest for truth remained locked away behind those heavily guarded eyes, and he felt his window of opportunity closing by the second.

  He was about to pluck the stupid thing from her ear when his own phone demanded his attention. With a huff, he snatched it up off the kitchen counter. “What?”

  “Whoa. Wanted to see if you’re gonna show up for our meeting sometime this century.” Archer’s smug tone pinched a nerve.

  Finn checked the clock and squeezed his eyes shut. He was over thirty minutes late. How long had he been kissing Joselyn? It hadn’t felt nearly long enough, but it appeared they’d slipped into a blissful black hole and burned more daylight than he’d realized.

  His hope for enlightenment about Joselyn and Cody—and him and Joselyn, for that matter—had slipped through his fingers. He wouldn’t be getting any answers tonight. At least not the ones he wanted.