by Laura Drewry
Not about everything, but, you know, things like the way Finn made her laugh so easily, when other guys tried too hard. Or like how a couple of the guys she’d dated gave her flowers for her birthday or whatever, which was really nice and she appreciated them, but Finn gave her books for no reason at all and that…well, there was nothing better than that.
Jessie exhaled a long, slow breath while her brain scrambled to get a grasp on what was becoming painfully clear. All these years, bit by bit, Finn had slowly worked his way into her heart and she hadn’t paid it any attention, because it had been easy to ignore.
Up until last spring he’d been living in Fort Mac, so they didn’t see each other every single day. But now…Oh God, what did that mean? Was she actually in love with Finn? Because if she was, that was going to be a problem. A big problem.
“Don’t be stupid,” she muttered. “If you even have to ask, then you’re not.”
And then, in case she didn’t believe herself, she repeated it again, a little louder.
“You’re not.”
She could go back and forth with herself all night on the love angle, but there was one thing she couldn’t deny even a little bit: She was absolutely 100 percent prime time in lust with him.
Her grandmother used to say that carnal thoughts would put a girl on the fast track to hell, and for the first time Jessie wondered if she was right, because, clearly, after tonight, that was the only place this road could possibly lead to.
By the time Jessie rolled out of bed the next morning, she didn’t have the first damn clue what was going to happen, but somehow she had to let Finn know that she didn’t expect anything more than what she already knew he could give.
“Hey.” Sitting in the kitchen with his feet up on one of the chairs and his hands wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee, Finn’s first smile already had her fighting to keep a grip on her heart.
Lust, not love.
“Hey yourself,” she said, fighting the tremble in her voice.
Should she kiss him good morning?
God, yes.
No! Coffee first. Right. Okay. A couple of slow sips and then she could face him. She started to talk, but unfortunately so did he.
“So about last night.”
“We should probably—”
They both stopped, but while Jessie was finding it increasingly difficult to breathe normally, Finn waved her over to the chair across from him, then sat up and rested his elbows on the table.
“Just say it, Jess.”
She hated having him look at her like that, his eyes flat and cold, as if he was expecting her to say they’d made a mistake and she wanted to forget it ever happened. As if he was expecting her to pull a Maggie and walk away.
A smart girl probably would have done precisely that, but she couldn’t, because she didn’t think it was a mistake, there was no way she would ever forget a single moment of it, and she was no Maggie.
Still, it took her almost half her coffee to figure out what she should say. And the whole time he just sat there, waiting, until she finally broke the silence.
“D’you know what I hate?”
Finn didn’t even hesitate. “Kale.”
“Yes,” she snorted. “But besides that.”
“Wearing clothes that fit you?”
In all the different ways Jessie thought this morning would go, not once did she expect to start out by laughing.
“Okay, smart-ass, let me start over.” She took another long sip of her coffee before inhaling deeply. “I really hate that, in thirteen years, this morning is the first time I’ve ever thought twice about what I should do or say to you.”
She couldn’t even look at him while she said it and had to resort to watching her finger run around the edge of her mug.
“Why?” His voice was low, hesitant. “I get that last night wasn’t something either of us expected. Hoped for, maybe, but didn’t expect.”
Smiling down at her mug, Jessie shrugged. “Hoped for but didn’t expect.”
“I’m sure you were probably up all night stewing about it—don’t try to deny it, I bet that hamster wheel inside your head’s still spinning—so tell me, Jess. You’re wishing it never happened, aren’t you?”
“What? No!”
“But?”
“No,” she repeated, already impatient with herself. “It’s not a but, exactly, it’s just that…okay…shit. Can I just throw it out there?”
“Wish you would.”
He was annoyed and she couldn’t blame him, but at the same time this wasn’t exactly easy for her.
“Last night…that’s not…I feel so stupid saying this, but I’ve never acted or felt like that before in my whole life.”
“Good.”
“No—not good!” Jessie blew out a breath, swallowed, and forced herself to go on. “I mean, all these years it’s just been you, you know, and then suddenly a couple weeks ago I started thinking it’s not just you, it is you.”
The tightness around his mouth started to smooth out a little, but he didn’t say anything.
“And then everything had me thinking about that, about you, and wondering why the hell it changed. I didn’t change, and you didn’t change, so why now? Why were so many stupid things suddenly different?”
“What stupid things?”
Oh no, she wasn’t about to start telling him what the scent of lemons and salt air did to her now.
“Doesn’t matter. My point is, stuff like this doesn’t happen fast with me; it never has. Kate says sometimes it takes a while for someone to feel that spark, you know, and I get that. But this…this wasn’t just a spark—it was like…I don’t even know, some kind of blast out of left field or something. Shocked the hell out of me.”
“Me, too.” Two tiny words, that’s all they were, but they were so much more than she expected.
“Really?”
“Yeah, really. If you’d stop and take a breath, I could have told you that already. And that I know this is crazy because it’s you and you’re…” Finn stopped, shrugged slowly. “You’re Jess.”
She tried to smile, but for some stupid reason her lips quivered instead.
Finn’s mouth tightened into a thin line before he licked his lips and nodded ever so slightly.
“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little scared, too.”
“You are?” It felt as if a twenty-pound weight had dropped from Jessie’s shoulders. “Thank God, because I’m terrified. I really was up most of the night thinking about it, and I think…I think I figured it out.”
Finn grunted. “This ought to be good.”
“Shut up,” she said, laughing lightly. “It’s completely sensible.”
“Sensible? Oh God, I hate it already.”
“Just listen.” Deep breath. Good. “So we know your brothers aren’t exactly going to be thrilled with either one of us when they find out about this.”
“Tough shit.” He was serious, but it still made Jessie laugh a little.
“That’s super helpful, thank you. Anyway, I think it’s safe to say they’re going to be even less thrilled when it ends, especially if—”
“What?” Finn sat up so fast, his chair groaned against the sudden pressure. “Back up a second there, will ya?”
Oh no, there’d be no backing up or Jess would never get it all out.
“—if they don’t understand why it’ll end,” she said with a nod. “But I do understand, you know I do, and it’s okay.”
She reached across the table for his hands, but he jerked them both away.
“Jesus, you’re serious.”
“Of course I’m serious.” Why was he acting so surprised? “You said it yourself—there’s no two people more screwed up than us, Finn, but knowing that ahead of time is what’s going to help make this easier.”
Finn blinked long and hard, then shook his head. “How’s that exactly?”
“Don’t you see?” Granted, Jessie had had all night to sort this out in h
er mind, but she still didn’t understand why he wasn’t getting it. “I know you’re not going to let yourself do something crazy like fall madly in love with me and then go build me a castle to live in, because that’s not who you are, and it doesn’t matter.”
His mouth opened but nothing came out.
“We’ve known each other such a long time, and over the last few weeks we’ve trusted each other with stuff that no one else would understand. So maybe that’s why we feel so…drawn…to each other right now.”
“Drawn?” he scoffed. “What the hell happened to the blast out of left field?”
This wasn’t going the way she’d planned at all. She was so sure he’d agree with her, maybe even be thankful she was being so reasonable about the whole thing. Instead, he looked hurt, and that was the last thing she wanted.
Leaving her coffee, she moved around to his side of the table, then waited for him to push his chair back. Thank God she didn’t have to wait long.
“Don’t be mad at me,” she said, shifting around until she was comfortable on his lap with his arms around her. “I’m just trying to make you see that I don’t expect this to be anything more than what it actually is.”
“Yeah?” His gaze roamed over her face, as if he was searching for something. “And what is it?”
The instant her finger touched his jaw, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, then turned in to her touch.
“It’s me trusting that when you get to the point where you need this to be over, you’ll end it and not drag it out because you feel obligated or something stupid like that.”
She pressed a soft kiss against the deep frown creasing his forehead, hating that she was the one who put it there in the first place.
“And,” she said, “it’s me trusting that you’ll still be my friend, no matter what happens, ’cause I can live without a lot of things, Finn, but I don’t know if I could handle losing you.”
When he finally opened his eyes, she thought she saw a hint of uncertainty buried behind their warmth, but then he smiled and everything inside her melted.
“Is that it?” he asked. “Are you done? You’ve got everything sorted out in that crazy head of yours?”
“Yeah.” She shrugged slowly, suddenly not sure if she’d sorted anything out at all. “I think so.”
“Okay.” Nodding, Finn ran his finger down the side of her face, easing her hair back just a little. “Then can I say something now?”
“Absolutely.” The word gushed out of her on a long breath. “The floor is yours.”
“Thank you.” His voice was so quiet as he threaded his fingers through hers. “Next time you think there’s something about this—about us—that needs to be figured out, could you loop me in maybe, so we can at least pretend I get some kind of say in it?”
Each word he spoke sent remorse surging through her, making it really hard to keep looking at him.
“You’re right,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
He didn’t smile, but his eyes softened as he ran his fingers along the hem of her T-shirt.
“And to answer your original question,” he said, “yes, you absolutely should have kissed me the second you walked through that door.”
“What?” she squeaked. “I never asked that.”
“Maybe not out loud, but it was written all over your face.”
“Is that right?”
“We both know it’s true,” he said, smirking as he eased his face closer. “So stop arguing and just kiss me already.”
How was it that all her worries, everything she’d been freaking out about all night, could dissolve with the first brush of his lips?
It wasn’t until later that Jessie realized Finn hadn’t disagreed with a single thing she’d said. And that on its own said everything.
—
Jess’s words echoed in Finn’s ears over the next few days. The whole time she was going off on him about how they shouldn’t tell anyone and that she knew Finn was going to screw her over, all he could think about was how much he hated all of it.
He didn’t give a shit what his brothers or anyone else thought. The only thing that mattered, the only one Finn worried about, was Jess.
She was so damn sure everything was going to blow up one day, and while he understood why and had no one but himself to blame for it, it still pissed him off. All these years, he’d loved the fact that she accepted him just as he was and never expected him to be anything else. Now…well, shit…now it drove him crazy that she didn’t expect him to be more.
And while she’d spent the night trying to figure out a nice way to tell him she was fully prepared for him to break her heart, he’d spent the night trying to come up with ways to prove he never would.
She’d said it herself: He did and said things that pissed her off all the time, but she was still there. She’d never given up on him, and he’d be damned if he was going to do anything to change that now.
Besides, over the past few days, he’d come to think the idea of not telling anyone about them was pretty freakin’ brilliant. They’d always had a way between them, things like how she tried so hard not to smile, because she didn’t want to admit she thought he was funny, and the way he’d shoot her a quick wink, which for some reason seemed to ease whatever insanity was banging around in her head.
But now, every time she so much as glanced his way, he swore his heart got a little bit bigger, and that made him smile, which made her blush, which made them both smile more. And every time they “accidentally” brushed up against each other—God help him—it was as if she ignited something inside him that burned hotter and longer each time.
Judging by the way her breath caught and her pupils dilated each and every time it happened, things were probably threatening to combust inside her, too.
It was damn hard to focus when they met out at the lake every night now, and that was mostly his fault, because he never wanted to let her go.
“Finn.” If she thought growling at him was going to help, she was sorely mistaken, especially when the growl came out on a low throaty laugh like that. “Let me go!”
“In a second.”
That second turned into a couple of hundred, because he couldn’t get enough of the way it felt when she squirmed against him like that, or the way it felt to know she didn’t hold on to him because she had to anymore but because she wanted to.
They’d been meeting in that lake every night for the better part of three weeks, and last night was the first time she’d made it in and out without shedding a single tear. She hadn’t shaken the nightmare, he could still see it lingering in the depths of her eyes, but she wasn’t letting it control her anymore, and he loved that about her.
He loved how she kissed him, soft and slow, before she went under the water, and he loved how she let him kiss her, hard and hungry, when she came back up. He loved that she relaxed under his touch, and he loved how just thinking about her touching him drove him crazy.
The way the tips of her fingers danced against his neck, or down his jaw, the way her lips, with barely a brush, could suck the breath right out of him, and the way she wiggled her ass every time she wrapped her legs around his waist.
Oh yeah, he liked that a lot.
What he didn’t like was when she stayed under the water as long as she did now, because it was ten or fifteen seconds that he couldn’t touch her.
This time when she came up, she didn’t sputter or gasp for air; instead, she slipped her arms around his neck, locked her ankles around his waist, and tried to blink the water off her eyelashes.
With one arm under her butt, so she had something to rest on, he used his other hand to wipe the water away and ease her hair back from her face before he kissed her. God, he’d never get tired of the way she smiled against his mouth like that or the way she sighed so softly when their kisses ended.
And, holy hell, having her hands roam over his bare chest like that…Yeah, that was a surefire way to get his blood pumping.
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nbsp; He’d give everything he had to be able to strip her bare right there in the lake, to feel her wrapped around him exactly like she was, with nothing but the night air between them.
But as much as he wanted to, he needed to prove to Jess that he was in this for the long haul, not just until he could run his hands over every bare inch of her, not just until he could find out what it felt like to be buried deep inside her, and not just until he could make her come undone beneath him.
No. If he was going to prove himself to her, he needed to be patient, to let her decide if—please, God, make it when—she wanted to take him there.
In the meantime, he was going to savor every second with her, especially those seconds like now, when she pressed her lips against his neck, right below his ear, and smiled like that.
Good things come to those who wait.
It was something he’d lived by his whole life; he hoped it didn’t prove wrong now.
—
For someone whose past relationships had always moved at glacial speed, Jessie still couldn’t believe how fast it was all moving with Finn. And if she stopped and thought about it rationally, she probably would be terrified, because it was Finn.
But she didn’t stop to think about it anymore; she just held on and hoped the ride lasted, because no matter how hard she tried to convince herself otherwise, there was no protecting her heart from this.
And for the moment she didn’t care; she was happy to let him have it—especially when they were out in the lake and he looked at her like that, as if she was the only thing in the entire universe he could see.
Smiling, she cupped his chin in one hand and snapped her fingers a couple of times in front of his eyes until he finally blinked again.
“Earth to Finn—you in there somewhere?”
“Yeah.” Shaking his head, he breathed out a slow sigh. “Just having a little daydream, is all.”
She sure hoped it was the same one she’d been having or it was going to be a long, painful night.
“Can we get out now?”
“Uh, yeah.” The light in his eyes dimmed a bit, but he still smiled. “Sure.”
They made their way back up the path, ducking into the shadows when they realized the guests from the Orange cabin were sitting out on their porch. Besides the three of them, there were two guys down in the Green cabin, but everyone else had flown home earlier that day, which meant the rooms in the lodge were all empty.