Untold

by Shannon Richard

  No freaking joke.

  Anyway, once all of those things had been cleared out, Brie had to move on to some of the more questionable items. As there were so many dish sets she decided to start there. There was also the question of where all the furniture had come from. And who better to look over those things than Ella?

  Brie and Finn cooked dinner on Thursday night for Ella and Faye; Nate senior didn’t come as he was working at the Sheep that night. While the manicotti finished baking, Brie showed Ella around the house.

  “The only rug that was Petunia’s is the oriental one in the den; the rest of these are ones that Bethelda acquired. That”—Ella pointed to the grandfather clock that Finn had saved her from crashing into—“was a thirtieth-anniversary gift from Harold. But those clocks”—Ella nodded to the display on the wall—“were probably also all Bethelda’s. That was Harold’s.” Ella waved to the old record player in the corner. “That was your great-great-grandmother’s,” she said of one of the china cabinets in the dining room.

  And so went the evening, Ella telling Brie everything that had been her grandparents’, or Bethelda’s when she’d been growing up. The dish sets and tea sets were all tackled after dinner, Ella pointing out just three of the thirty-five tea sets that had been Petunia’s, and only one of the seven displayed dish sets that had been Harold and Petunia’s wedding dishes.

  Brie ended up spending all of Friday taking pictures, looking the sets up online and seeing how much they ran for, and posting each one on eBay. Once she was done with that, she packed everything up that she wasn’t keeping and labeled all of the boxes so that when they sold, she knew exactly what was what.

  Out of all of those particular possessions, the only thing Brie kept that hadn’t been Petunia’s was a royal blue tea set with delicately painted emerald-green leaves. She didn’t know why, but she just couldn’t bring herself to get rid of it. So she followed her instinct and set it aside.

  When Finn got off of work, he stopped by the house to spend time with Brie before he went out and got a burger with Tripp and Liam. It was Finn who answered the door when Beth, Hannah, and Harper rang the doorbell, “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go” filling the house.

  “Hello, ladies,” Brie heard him say as she walked through the dining room and toward the front of the house.

  “Is that doorbell seriously George Michael singing?” Harper’s voice floated down the hallway.

  “It is indeed.”

  “I feel like I’ve stepped into a parallel universe,” Hannah said as she walked into the living room.

  “Oh, you just wait, dear sister. You. Just. Wait.”

  “Holy shit,” Beth whispered under her breath as she looked around at all of the stuff. “How much have you gotten rid of already?”

  Brie looked to Finn, tilting her head to the side. “You think it’s a quarter?”

  “If that. But hey, you guys are going to work on the rest of those dresses and the wine tonight. So that’s gonna help,” he said as he pointed to the dining room where the wine cabinet doors were opened.

  He’d taken the time while he was there to pull a few bottles of red forward that he thought might be good selections, and he’d also stuck a good assortment of white in the refrigerator.

  “Holy. Shit.” Beth repeated the words as she looked at the wine cabinet. “There might’ve been no love lost between Bethelda and me, but I have to admire that wine selection.”

  “It is rather impressive, isn’t it?” Brie asked.

  “It is indeed.”

  “I should get going.” Finn moved over to Brie, leaning down and kissing her lips before he pulled away. “Have fun tonight.” He grinned and she knew without a doubt just how much fun he hoped she had.

  “You too. I’ll see you later.”

  “Later.” He nodded to all of the other ladies just as George started singing again. “I’ll let them in.”

  Brie turned back to the other three women in the room, three women who all had their eyes on her. They were the kind of assessing looks that made her feel like she was under a magnifying glass.

  “Wine?” She didn’t wait for any one’s answer before she turned around and headed for the kitchen.

  The more time she spent with Finn, the less she wanted anyone looking closely at it…probably because she was avoiding looking too closely at it. That was because it was starting to get too hard to look too closely at it.

  * * *

  When all of the girls got there they wanted a tour of the house, wanted to see the sheer magnitude of belongings Bethelda had. None of them could believe it. When Paige got there, she stared at her painting hanging above Bethelda’s bed, sipping on her glass of wine with the most confused expression on her face.

  “I just don’t understand,” she said, and shook her head. “That woman did not like me, and yet, she bought one of my paintings? How does that make any sense at all?”

  “Paige, as I’m learning when it comes to Bethelda, nothing makes sense. Nothing.”

  Once they’d eaten all of the pizza—one thin crust mushroom, one vegetables and sausage, and one three cheese with tomatoes—they could, they opened another bottle of wine and moved into the living room with the butterscotch cookies Grace had brought.

  They used this space for the runway, the lighting good and there was more room. Plus it was cold and Finn had started the fire, and Frankie and Lo were spread out in front of it sleeping.

  Once Brie had sent the picture of the dress bags, everyone wanted to see what those options were before crawling through closets or climbing into attics. And they had a lot to choose from, too. Seventeen dresses in sizes ranging from two to fourteen.

  Paige’s was royal blue with a strapless top made of sequins and a knee-length blue taffeta skirt. Grace picked a red polka dot number that looked like it would be appropriate for a flamenco dancer. Mel’s was a yellow lace dress that went down to the floor with a rather impressive slit up the side. Hannah’s was an emerald-green, silk, mermaid dress.

  Harper chose a dress that was also floor length and covered with purple sequins. With the right altering (which everyone was going to need to do to their dresses anyway) it was going to look perfect on all of her curves. Beth picked a flowy hot pink dress with a silver, sparkly halter. While Meredith went with a one-shoulder baby-pink dress made of shiny satin.

  “OK, you’re up,” Harper said as she looked between the remaining options. “I want to see you in this one. Mainly because if it had been my size I would’ve picked it for myself. Plus it’s pretty.”

  The dress was two pieces, a black lace top and a long black skirt. It actually was the dress Brie had her eyes on from the start.

  “You know? I’m surprised that these dresses are so pretty, and fun, and have never actually been worn before,” Mel said as she grabbed her wineglass.

  “I’m not.” Brie shook her head as she moved her hand in a circle, indicating the house. “Bethelda liked to buy nice things and then not use most of them. That’s the theme of her life.”

  “Clearly. Now go try the dress on.” Harper thrust it toward her.

  Brie grabbed it and headed for the bathroom. She pulled off her jeans and sweater before she shimmied into the skirt of the dress and struggled for a few moments to get the invisible zipper up. Brie studied the top for a second and realized a bra was useless, so she pulled that off, too. It had a solid, corseted piece underneath the lace with a solid strap at the back. She slid her arms into the long sleeves, the black lace on her skin with no barrier, before she reached around and snapped the strap together.

  Taking just a second to look at herself in the mirror, Brie adjusted everything into place. The skirt was high-waisted, the top cropped, and there was a good two inches of skin showing. It was just the right amount of sexy.

  She took a moment to fiddle with her hair before she stepped back out and into the living room.

  “I was right,” Harper said. “That’s the perfect dress.”

  “
It fits you like a glove.” Mel got up from her seat and moved closer.

  “You don’t need to get a thing altered.” Grace shook her head.

  “Holy crap, you look awesome.” Paige tilted her head to the side, studying Brie. “You’re going to rock that dress.”

  “We are all going to rock these dresses,” Meredith said just a tad bit tipsily. “I just need to find a date, because I refuse, refuse to go stag.”

  “What about Reggie?” Hannah asked, referring to the caramel-skinned, sky-blue-eyed bartender Brie had met the other night. “I’m sure he doesn’t have a date. You should ask him.”

  “He works at the bar and is about six years younger than me.” Meredith frowned.

  “And?” Beth waved her hand in the air. “He also kept looking at you from across the bar last Saturday night. And as I was the only one not drinking, I was way more observant than anyone else.”

  “Fact,” Grace agreed.

  “I-I will need to think on this,” Meredith said. “Brie, go take that dress off so we can drink more wine.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Brie grinned.

  Chapter Twenty

  The Death of a Bachelor

  It was at four thirty on Saturday evening when Finn left the bungalow and headed home with Frankie. He gave Brie a kiss before he told her he’d be back at six to pick her up.

  As Finn had asked her on this date over a week ago, she’d had plenty of time to order a new dress for the night. Sure, she could’ve probably made something she had down there work, but it was a special night, so she wanted a special dress.

  Hair curled around her shoulders and makeup done, she reached for the dress hanging on the back of the door to the bathroom. It was a silvery purple, satin, wrap dress. The sleeves went down to the middle of her forearms, the hem hit her about mid-thigh, and the V of the neck where the material met went low enough to give more than a hint of her cleavage. She paired it with a pair of black heels and her leather jacket.

  It didn’t matter how much time Brie had spent with Finn over the last couple of weeks, when that doorbell rang, a wave of butterflies took flight in her belly. She grabbed her clutch, gave Lo a good scratch behind the ears, and headed for the front door.

  Opening the door, she found Finn on the other side wearing dark gray slacks, a white button-up shirt, and a black blazer. She was about to tell him how nice he looked, but then her gaze met his sapphire eyes behind his glasses. The amazed look on his face made her forget how to talk for a second.

  He spoke first. “You look beautiful.”

  “I…thank you. So do you.”

  His lips turned up. “I look beautiful?”

  “Yes, you do. Men can look beautiful, too.”

  “Well, thank you.” He took a step forward, reaching up to touch her elbows. “Now do you have more of that lipstick you’re wearing in that tiny purse?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Because I’m about to kiss off what you’re wearing. Come here.” He pulled her in close as he lowered his mouth to hers and did precisely that.

  Finn took Brie to dinner at LaBella, a high-end resort on Mirabelle Beach that boasted an upscale restaurant, too. He told her it was also the only place in town that met all of his requirements for the evening: candlelit dinner, white tablecloths, someone playing the piano in the corner, and overpriced wine.

  As the hostess led them through the restaurant, his hand moved to the small of her back, sliding under her leather jacket so it rested directly on the silk. The heat from his palm seeped through the thin material, making her warm all over.

  “Oh wow,” Brie whispered when they got to the table.

  It was in the corner by a bank of windows that looked out to the water. It was just before sunset, the sun hovering right above the horizon. Bright oranges and pinks painted the sky.

  He said something to the waitress—she didn’t hear exactly what as she was so focused on the view outside of those windows—before he moved behind her, helping her pull off her jacket. He leaned in close, kissing her neck before he moved his mouth to her ear. “I figured we could enjoy our first glass of wine while we watch the sun disappear into the Gulf of Mexico.”

  She turned and looked at him over her shoulder. “That sounds perfect.”

  He kissed her lips this time before he pulled her chair out from the table and helped her sit. And then he was taking the spot across from her.

  It hadn’t even been ten minutes since he’d picked her up, and it was already the most romantic date she’d ever been on.

  And it didn’t stop there. Somehow the man managed to just make the night more and more perfect. His focus never strayed from her. He didn’t get distracted by the other people coming and going. Didn’t miss a word she said. Didn’t for one moment make her feel like anything less than the most important person in the room.

  That wasn’t something she’d ever experienced before, and that right there would’ve made the evening perfect. But then there was the food, which just added even more perfection to the evening.

  They had a fancy salad course with fried green tomatoes, goat cheese crumbles, and pickled onions. Then there were the main courses—that they shared—of steak with rosemary mashed potatoes, and oysters with biscuits. And tiramisu for dessert, which just so happened to be Brie’s favorite.

  When dinner was done, Finn paid the bill, helped her pull her jacket back on, and slid his hand into hers, interlocking their fingers as they walked outside. When they got to his truck, he pulled her against him, leaning down for a lingering kiss.

  He tasted like the wine they’d had with their dessert.

  “Thank you.” She smiled against his mouth. “Dinner was perfect. Everything was perfect.”

  “You’re welcome, Brie.” And then he was kissing her again, his hands at her waist, fingers pressing into her hips.

  “Finn?” His name came out breathless as she pulled back, her hands fisting on the sides of his blazer, holding on to him as she looked up into his face. “You know how you said you wanted part of the evening’s agenda to include kissing me on the porch of the bungalow and hoping for me to invite you inside?”

  “Yes.”

  “Since you already kissed me on the porch at the beginning of the date, can we just skip that part and you take me back to your place? I want to be in your bed tonight.” She wanted to be surrounded by everything that was him while he made love to her.

  “It would take a foolish, foolish man to say no to a request like that.”

  “And you aren’t foolish?”

  “No, not in that regard.”

  “Then take me home, Finn.”

  He pulled a sharp breath in through his nose, his chest expanding out. Something flashed in his eyes at the same moment, something deep and intense in those dark blues. His grip on her waist tightened fractionally in a flex before he loosened it.

  And just that quickly, whatever it was, was gone. It was replaced by that smile of his, the easygoing one that had charmed her from the very start.

  “Yes, ma’am. But I want to dance with you again.”

  “Deal.”

  He kissed her lips one last time before helping her into his truck.

  When they got back to his house, Finn let Frankie out while Brie searched through her iPhone to make the perfect playlist. She wasn’t sure how long he’d last before taking her upstairs, but she figured five songs would be good.

  “Perfect.”

  Brie looked up as Finn walked into the room. “What?” she asked, plugging her phone in and starting the first song before setting it down.

  “You kept your heels on.” He pulled off his blazer and tossed it on the sofa next to her leather jacket, then he was crossing over to her.

  The whole thing was déjà vu to the last time they’d danced in that very living room a week ago.

  “I did leave them on.”

  He reached out, those hands of his that she loved so much sliding across the silk of her dress as he pulled her
close and started to move their bodies to the slow beat of the music. “Have I told you how unbelievably beautiful you are?”

  “Not in the last”—she turned toward the clock on the wall before looking back to him—“twenty minutes.”

  “Well, you’re so beautiful I can’t think straight. So beautiful that all I’ve cared about tonight is looking at you.”

  “Finn.” She reached up, her hand covering his jaw as she leaned up and pressed her mouth against his. It was a habit now, when his mouth was close enough—hell, when he was in the same building—all she wanted was to feel his lips on hers.

  When she pulled away from him she saw that same intense look in his eyes that had been there in the parking lot of LaBella. But then she couldn’t see his eyes anymore as he leaned in, his hand sliding to her lower back as his mouth moved to her ear.

  “Dance with me, Brie.”

  And that was exactly what they did, danced. Him holding her close as they moved around the room. He made it through four of the five songs before he pulled her upstairs and unwrapped her like she was a Christmas present.

  * * *

  Take me home, Finn.

  Those words kept replaying in his head, over and over and over again. It had been hours since Brie had fallen asleep, thoroughly exhausted, pressed up against his side. Her head was on his chest, her breath hitting his skin and moving out with every slow, deep exhale. He stared up at the ceiling, the limited light in the room illuminating the slowly spinning ceiling fan.

  Take me home, Finn.

  It had been there, right there in that moment when she said home, that he realized he wanted his house to be more than just his. Wanted that with her. And just as that thought had entered his mind the reality set in. It wasn’t going to happen.

  She’s leaving.

  More words that kept repeating in his head. Words that made his chest tighten. Words that made it hard for him to breathe. It was to the point where thinking about her leaving, thinking about not seeing her every day, not talking to her, not kissing her, not waking up next to her, caused him physical pain.