Chelsea’s conscience pricked her. “I don’t want to lead her to believe we’re headed for the altar, though. That wouldn’t be right.”
“I’ll handle that.”
“By telling her what? That I’m a temporary diversion? That’s not any better!”
Finn continued to knead her backside, which was making her hot. “I’ll tell her that we’re exploring our options.”
“If she’s as sharp as I think she is, she’ll recognize that’s a load of BS.”
“So would you rather swear off sex while we’re there?”
“No! I just don’t want to fly under false colors. You say she’ll know what’s going on during these picnics. I’m reading between the lines, but Rosie seems like the kind of person—mother, really—who expects that to lead to something permanent. Am I wrong?”
“No.” Finn took a deep breath. “That’s what she expects.”
“Yet you and I are totally up in the air. We’ve made no promises. We’re just enjoying each other for the time being.” She liked the idea of emphasizing that to see if he’d object to the description.
He didn’t. “That’s right.”
“I don’t know Rosie yet, but I don’t think she’s going to like it.”
“As I said, we could decide not to have sex while we’re there.”
“Finn, look me in the eye and tell me you’d be fine with that.”
He burst out laughing. “You know I wouldn’t, not after the hours we’ve spent in bed together, not to mention the special episode in the SUV.”
“Okay, so what about that? We could take a drive. Would Rosie suspect something then?”
“Rosie will suspect something anytime we make an excuse to go off alone. She spent years raising teenage boys. She’s honed her instincts.”
Chelsea gazed into his incredibly handsome face. “‘Exploring our options’? Is that the line you came up with?”
“It is, but if you can improve on it, please do.”
“I can’t. Now that you’ve laid it out for me and I understand we’re going into a situation where we want to have no-strings sex and your foster mother would prefer a commitment by the end of the week, then exploring our options may be all we can go with. But I can’t believe she’ll be satisfied with that.”
“She won’t, but we may be able to hold her off with it, at least for a while. She might not corner either one of us to demand what’s really going on.”
“She’d do that?”
“Rosie is a force of nature. She would do that and more if she thought it was necessary to secure the happiness of her boys. I don’t know if she would commit murder for any of us, but I wouldn’t want to test it.”
“Wow.” Chelsea smiled. “Now I really want to meet this woman. She didn’t just take in foster boys. She gathered them into her tiger den and is ready to challenge anyone who would dare hurt them. That’s awesome.”
“She is awesome. You two will get along.”
“Even if you tell her we’re only exploring our options?”
“Sure, because she’ll blame that on me. She knows what I’m like and she’ll decide that I’m the one holding up the works.” His voice gentled. “She’s right.”
“Not necessarily.” Pride made her speak up. “You’re a complicated man. I’m not sure I could deal with you in a relationship.”
“Bullshit.” He slid his hands up her back and massaged her shoulders. “You’ve dealt with me for five years and you haven’t cracked yet. She’ll take one look at you and know that if anyone can deal with me, you can.”
That fascinated her. “And you, Finn O’Roarke? How do you stand on that question?”
He hesitated. “I wouldn’t wish my demons on anybody, Chels. Truth be told, I think you’d be better off if you walked away.”
“Now?”
Emotion flickered in his blue gaze. “No. I’m selfish enough to hope that you’ll stick it out through the week. The idea of giving you up now, when I’ve just begun to really know you, is...a horrible prospect.”
“Then don’t even contemplate it. I’ll stick it out through the week, and we’ll tell Rosie we’re exploring our options.”
“Speaking of exploring, I wish we could do that right now.”
“Wouldn’t that be lovely?” She eased out of his arms. “But we’ve promised to visit Lily and Regan and find out about her horse-rescue operation. I think that’s important.”
“I know it is.” He walked over to the dresser and picked up his hat. “Let’s go.” He put it on and tugged on the brim so it dipped down, shadowing his eyes and making him look sexier than ever.
Damn. He was one hot cowboy. She sighed softly.
He glanced at her in alarm. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, except when you tug on the brim of your hat, it’s like foreplay.”
He grinned. “Every cowboy knows that. It’s one of the major reasons to wear a hat.” He slung an arm over her shoulder and guided her out of the room. “I’ll try to work that gesture into my routine a few more times before we turn in for the night.”
“Now see, if I know you’re doing it on purpose to get me hot, I probably won’t react the same way.”
He chuckled softly. “Yeah, you will.”
* * *
CHELSEA DISCOVERED HE was right about that. He took off his hat during lunch with Lily and Regan, which turned out to be a cheerful meal as they talked about Saturday’s wildly successful event. But when he settled that hat back on his head for the tour of the property, he relaxed into full cowboy mode.
Besides tugging on the brim, he often stood with his thumbs in his belt loops. He even seemed to walk differently, more of a casual saunter than the brisk stride she was used to in Seattle. A slight drawl had invaded his speech.
Fortunately, Lily and Regan’s place was fascinating, which kept Chelsea from spending the entire afternoon trying not to stare at Finn.
Peaceful Kingdom had plenty of stare-worthy qualities, including the color scheme. When they’d first arrived, Lily had been quick to point out that she’d painted the barn pink with turquoise trim and the ranch house orange with green trim.
“I wouldn’t have picked these colors, but they’re growing on me,” her husband Regan had said, his loyalty obvious.
As they left the house after lunch, Chelsea put on her shades, but even they weren’t enough to mute the outrageous color combination. Regan was a tolerant man. She felt as if she’d met him before, but that was probably because he was Tyler’s twin brother. He, too, had taken after their Italian mother.
Lily led the way over to one of her favorite sections of the property, a pen containing two potbellied pigs. Chelsea had never seen one before except in movies.
“Meet Harley and Wilbur. Harley’s the bigger one.” Lily gestured toward the pen.
“But they’re both huge!” Chelsea peered at them as she quickly adjusted her mental picture. “Aren’t potbellied pigs supposed to be little and cute?”
“Sure, when they’re babies,” Regan said. “There’s lots of misinformation about these guys out there. People who buy them don’t seem to realize they’re getting baby pigs. When they grow and need more room and a big mud pit to wallow in, their owners bail. We’ve fostered several we’ve been able to adopt out, but we’ve kept these two. We’re partial to them.”
Finn moved closer, obviously interested in the creatures. “I always wanted a pig, and I would have named him Wilbur, too.” He crouched so he was on a level with them. “You are mighty fine-looking animals.”
“If you still want a pig,” Lily said, “I’m sure another one will show up here. The word is out.”
“No place to keep one in Seattle.” Finn stood. “But I’ve always thought they were cool. I tried to get Rosie and Herb to go
for the idea of a pet pig, but they weren’t enthusiastic, considering we already had six horses, two ranch dogs and three barn cats.”
“I’d never been around pigs until I met Lily,” Regan said. “Now I’m a fan. They’re fun, affectionate and clean except when they’ve been rolling in the mud. Maybe your foster parents just need a chance to find out more about them. Lily could probably convince them in no time.”
“And that’s a great lead-in to what we wanted to ask Lily.” Chelsea turned to her. “Would you be interested in doing some guest lectures for Thunder Mountain Academy about the horse-rescue movement? You’d be paid, of course.”
Lily’s freckled face lit up. “I would definitely be interested! What a fabulous idea, to educate teenagers. I’m amazed I didn’t suggest it myself.”
“Well, good, that’s settled.” Chelsea smiled at Finn. “We landed another one.”
“And I can talk to your foster parents about pigs while I’m there,” Lily said to Finn.
“Or not.” Finn laughed. “I was the one who wanted them, and I’ll only be a casual visitor. I can’t in good conscience push the idea.”
“But from what I saw on Chelsea’s PowerPoint yesterday, it would be a great place for a couple of these guys.” Lily obviously was warming to her subject. “I met Cade and Lexi when they were here. I could see them getting into pigs. Now I wish I’d invited them out to meet Harley and Wilbur.”
Regan smiled and put an arm around her shoulders. “I hate to break this to you, but not everybody is passionate about pigs. And the academy’s supposed to be about horses, right?”
“Right. But what’s wrong with adding a pig or two?” Lily glanced at Finn. “It’s worth a shot, don’t you think?”
He shrugged. “If you can convince someone that a pig would be a welcome addition, then go for it. I’ll even lay the groundwork when we go over there this week.”
“Great!” Lily beamed at him. “Take some pictures on your phone. I made sure they were all cleaned up before you got here, so they’re ready for their close-up.”
“Why not?” Finn pulled out his phone and Lily let him into the pen.
Chelsea watched with a lump in her throat as Finn interacted with the pigs. He talked to them the entire time he was in there taking pictures—and he took dozens of pictures.
Lily moved closer to Chelsea and spoke in a low voice. “Does he have any animals at home?”
“Not now. His ex got custody of the cat and dog.”
“He might not be able to keep a pig, but he needs some animal to love.”
“I can see that.” She saw so much more, too—a little boy who’d scraped out a meager life with his grandfather only to have the man die and leave him alone at thirteen. He’d been lucky enough to get taken in by Rosie and Herb, but even their love hadn’t filled the gaping hole created by his past.
Now he was trying to fill it by creating a successful business. She understood why he believed that would be enough. But after watching him with Wilbur and Harley, she knew he needed so much more. She hoped he’d figure that out.
12
THE PIGS HAD been an unexpected bonus and Finn had enjoyed the heck out of them. He’d had a good time touring the pink-and-turquoise barn and meeting the rescued horses, but Wilbur and Harley had been the highlight of the trip. There was no way he could imagine having one in Seattle, though, unless he moved to the suburbs and accepted a long commute to work.
By the time he and Chelsea left Peaceful Kingdom, it was almost time to meet Josie and Jack for dinner. He glanced over at Chelsea. “Unless you want to call and say we’ll be a little late, we need to drive straight over to Spirits and Spurs instead of stopping back at the Bunk and Grub.”
“We can go straight there. That’s fine.”
“Those pigs were something.”
“They were.” Chelsea was quiet for a moment. “Taking a wild guess here, but did you get hooked on Charlotte’s Web when you were a kid?”
“Yep. My grandfather and I watched the movie on bargain day. The next bargain day I begged him to rent it again, so we did. I kept that up until he said that was enough and we needed to get a different movie. So then I found the book in the library. I checked it out so many times that one day I came in and the librarian handed me my own copy to keep. I still have it.”
“It was one of my favorites, too.”
“My grandfather didn’t like it. He said it was too sad. But I loved it. To this day I can’t kill a spider.” He looked over at her. “Even Cade and Damon don’t know that, so I’d appreciate it if you’d keep it to yourself.”
“Of course I will. I’m honored that you trust me enough to tell me. Besides, I can’t kill them, either. I put them in a jar and take them outside. But being soft on spiders is easier when you’re a girl.”
“I suppose it is.” He turned down the road leading to town. “Herb and Rosie aren’t going to want to deal with a pet pig. I have no right to try to convince them they should.”
“What about Cade and Damon, or even Lexi? Maybe one of them is a fan of the story and always secretly wanted one.”
“If Cade or Damon is, they would have backed me on my campaign when we lived there. Lexi might like the story, although I’ve never heard her mention it. I need to get over this and not expect someone else to adopt the pig I can’t have.”
“Or you can find out if there’s a potbellied pig rescue group in Seattle. You could have a charity event at O’Roarke’s to raise money for it.”
“Damn, Chels, that’s brilliant. Let’s do it.”
“You want me to coordinate it for you?”
“Who else? Nobody’s better at these things than you are. Name your price.”
“No price. I’ll do it for the pigs. For Wilbur.”
About that time he pulled into the parking lot of Spirits and Spurs. He shut off the engine and unlatched his seat belt. Then he laid his hat on the dashboard. “Lean over here. I have an urgent need to kiss you.”
She unfastened her seat belt and turned into his outstretched arms. “We don’t have time to stay out here and smooch, you know.”
“I know. But I can’t last another two or three hours.” He cupped the back of her head and felt the silky texture of her hair against his palm. “One kiss. That’s all.”
“Yes, but how long will it last?”
“As long as it needs to.” The console was in the way, but he managed to angle his head so he could fit his mouth over hers. Her sigh of pleasure filled him with joy. This wasn’t a kiss of unrestrained passion. Instead he simply wanted to let her know how much he treasured her.
He moved his lips gently against hers and slipped his tongue inside her mouth in one easy, unhurried motion. So sweet. So warm. So...oh, God, he was lost. With a groan he took the kiss deeper.
She pulled back, breathing hard. “Finn, we can’t—”
“I know. Sorry.” And he went back for more.
If she’d pushed him away, he would have abided by her decision, but she didn’t. Instead she grabbed the back of his neck and hung on while he plundered her eager mouth.
He wasn’t sure how long the tapping at his window had been going on by the time it finally registered. He lifted his mouth from Chelsea’s and gulped for air. “Somebody’s...outside.”
“Oh!” She scrambled away from him and looked over his shoulder. “It’s Jack.”
“Of course it is.” With a sigh he turned to see Jack giving him a Cheshire-cat smile. The windows were automatic, so he had to switch on the power to roll it down. “What?”
“Hate to interrupt.”
“Sure you do.”
“Josie sent me out to see if you were here yet. She’s made a small batch of what she hopes will be her signature beer and—”
“Already? I thought she w
as just thinking about it.”
“Oh, no. She’s been experimenting for a while, just for the hell of it, not sure if she wanted to do this. Then she saw the calendar and realized you were a brewer. She’s been extremely focused ever since. Your glass is poured and she doesn’t want it to get warm. This means the world to her, and because I love her dearly, I want you to lay off the tonsil hockey and come in and taste her beer.” He smiled again. “If you would be so kind.”
“We’ll be right there,” Chelsea said.
“Excellent. I’ll tell her.” Jack touched the brim of his black Stetson and walked back into the saloon.
Finn glanced over at Chelsea, who seemed to be trying not to giggle. “He violated the cowboy code, you know.”
“He did?”
“Well, not the big, superimportant code, but there’s a whole list of lesser infractions, and interrupting a hot kiss is right up there at the top.”
“Extenuating circumstances.” She flipped down the visor and combed her hair with her fingers.
“Like what?”
“The woman he loves is inside on pins and needles, waiting for your evaluation of her signature beer. He needs you to come in and put an end to her suffering.”
“Do you realize what an impossible situation this is? What if I hate her signature beer?”
“You’ll find a diplomatic way to suggest improvements.”
He dragged in a breath and picked up his hat. “Then let’s do this thing.”
She grabbed his arm before he could get out. “Whatever you do, don’t take a sip and make a face.”
“I wouldn’t do that. I have some sensitivity.”
“You’re right. You’re the guy who won’t kill spiders.” She patted his cheek. “I know. Imagine Josie as Charlotte. Instead of working on an amazing web, she’s been crafting this beer.”
“There are so many things wrong with that image that I don’t even know where to start. I’ll just have to fumble along on my own.”
She climbed out before he could round the SUV and escort her, almost beating him to the front door of the saloon. But he got there in time to open that door, at least. The oval glass inserts were similar to what he’d ordered for O’Roarke’s, but these were probably original.
Rolling Like Thunder Page 12