"I look forward to hearing from you," she said. She nodded to Mia. "Nice to meet you, Mia."
Deborah drove off, and Mia studied Finn as he stood on the sidewalk, his hands jammed into his pockets. Mia refused to allow hope a foothold. Her nerves jumping, her heart quivering, she asked, "What is this about, Finn?"
Chapter 30
"Can we go back to your place and talk?" Finn asked, shoving a hand through his hair. One foot jittered on the ground.
He was nervous, she realized. Unsure of himself. It was a version of Finn she'd never seen before.
She wanted to fall into his arms. Agree to anything he wanted. But she couldn't allow herself to let go. To hope. "What do we have to talk about? And why do you care about my opinion of these houses, anyway?" She would not think about possible reasons why he wanted it.
He took a deep breath, as if trying to steady himself. "Mia." His eyes narrowed. "I'm not doing this in public."
"Doing what?"
He stared at her for a long moment, a muscle in his jaw twitching. Then he reached behind her and opened the car door. "Get in the damn car."
She watched him walk around the car and slide into the driver's seat. He started the engine without even glancing at her. His hands clenched the steering wheel and he stared out the windshield. Waiting.
She'd only seen the easy-going Finn. The guy who was always smiling. Apparently, Finn had a temper, too. It would make for some interesting fights…
No. She wasn't going there.
She slid onto the seat and closed the door. The moment she buckled her seat belt, he pulled away from the curb too fast, pressing her into the seat.
Fifteen minutes later, they were back at her apartment. He followed her inside and up the stairs. Once they were in her living room, she crossed her arms and turned to face him. "Talk."
He crossed his arms, as well, a hint of his earlier anger still lingering in his expression. "You really like busting my balls, don't you?"
"No, I don't," she said. Her arms fell away from her chest and she walked over to the window. Sunlight reflected off the roof of his silver car, making it flash beneath the trees. The glare made her eyes prickle, and she pressed her fingertips against the radiator cover as she swallowed.
"It's been sixteen weeks, Finn. Sixteen weeks and four days since I saw you. Not one phone call. No emails. Not even a damn text message. Did you expect me to fall into your arms, grateful that you'd come back?"
He slid his hands around her upper arms, caressing her gently. "I hoped you'd missed me as much as I missed you. I hoped you'd at least listen to me."
Her throat swelled, and she wanted to tell him how much she missed him. Wanted to tell him she'd cried more in the past three months than she had in the past ten years. But the words stuck in her throat. What if this was a decision fueled by guilt? Or worse, an impulse he'd regret in a few months? If he walked away again, she wasn't sure she'd survive.
His fingers tightened on her arms. "I've been a complete ass. I know that. I shouldn't have walked away from you. I didn't want to, but I didn't think I had a choice. I finally realized that I always have choices. Some are just easier than others. And when I left, I made the easy choice."
It had been easy to walk away from her? She blinked several times, fighting to hold back the tears. Walking away from Finn had been the hardest thing she'd ever had to do.
"I've been miserable without you, Mia. I thought about you every day." His hands slid down her arms, making her nerves spark, and he pulled her against him. His chest was warm and solid against her back, and his arms folded across her abdomen, holding her close. Clinging, the way she wanted to cling to him.
Her fingertips dusted the radiator top instead of wrapping around his arms. If she took a chance, welcomed him in, how could she be sure he would stay?
"I have everything I ever wanted in my career, but it means nothing without you." The low rumble of his voice made her shiver. "When I was hosting that stupid award show last weekend, all I could think about was you. How I wished you were there with me. That you would make it fun, instead of a job. I wanted to laugh with you about it afterward."
He brushed his lips against her neck and she swallowed hard. "I stood behind that stage, watching Pete and your mom, and I wanted what they had. I realized my success was nothing but a mirage. A gilded image that didn't really exist. When I reached out to touch it, it slipped through my fingers like a cold mist. I need you to ground me, Mia. I'm not real without you."
Her heart pinched in her chest. Swallowing once, she said, "Says the guy who thought the easy choice was walking away from me."
His hands tightened on her arms, then he turned her to face him. "You're right. That was a cruel thing to say. But I figured out pretty damn quickly that it wasn't the easy choice. It was the expedient choice. The thoughtless choice."
He skimmed his hands up her arms, making her shiver. "You've been the brave one in our relationship, Mia. You're the one who's taken all the risks. I've hidden behind my career and my obligations to avoid facing what you mean to me. To avoid putting myself out there and risking getting hurt. I've been a damn coward, Mia, but no more. I'm done running away."
Mia stared up at him. She saw nothing but sincerity in his expression. Nothing but honesty in his gaze. She wanted to reach out, but the memory of those three agonizing months held her back.
He must have seen the hesitation in her expression. The wariness in her eyes. His hands tightened on hers. "I love you, Mia. I loved you when I walked away from you, I loved you every single day I was gone, and I'll love you every day for the rest of my life."
"Those are just words, Finn," she whispered, studying his expression. "Words are easy."
He cupped her face in his hands. "Please give me a chance to prove that I mean them. That I'm not going to change my mind. I want to marry you, Mia. Have children with you."
He pressed his forehead against hers. "I know you're not ready for that. You don't trust me, and I don't blame you. But I know what I want, and that's not going to change, not matter how long it takes for you to trust me again. I want everything with you." He swiped at the tears she didn't realize were falling. "Including dying with you while we're having sex when we're ninety-five years old."
God. He'd remembered that. Had he remembered every damn thing she'd said?
Her throat thickened with tears she struggled to hold back. "That was a pretty speech, Finn. As pretty as those gilded images on the screen. I think you even mean it." She swallowed, trying to dissolve the lump that made her throat ache. "But how can you move to Chicago? Your job, your career, is in Hollywood. You can't just disappear. If you're living in Chicago, they'll forget all about you."
He shook his head. "I don't want to sound arrogant, but they're not going to forget about me. I'm the It Guy in Hollywood right now. All the movers and shakers are bending over backward to prove they never believed Gemma. Thanks to that rat bastard Benson's revelations, my agent has been flooded with offers. I have the currency to do what I want. And what I want is to live here in Chicago. With you."
He wiped another tear from her face. "Will being away from Hollywood hurt my career? Possibly. Will I have to be away from Chicago, and you, occasionally? Yes. I will. But I'll always come back to you. I'll do whatever I have to do to make it work, Mia. I promise you."
"I want to believe you, Finn," she whispered. "I do." She wanted to run her fingers over his face, feel the scruff of his whiskers. She wanted to tangle her hands in his hair, let the silky strands slip through her fingers.
She wanted to kiss him and tell him she loved him, too, and that she wanted everything with him. Marriage, children, the whole nine yards. Instead, she said, "What happens if the roles start drying up because you're not around? What happens when the next It Guy shows up? What then, Finn?"
He laced his hands behind her back and drew her against him. "I knew you'd be skeptical, Mia. Knew you'd make me work for it. That's one of the reasons I love
you. To you, I'm not Finn O'Rourke. I'm just Finn, and that's exactly how I want it. I want you to call me on my bullshit."
"You haven't answered my question," she pointed out.
He grinned and brushed this thumb across her lips. "First, I don't think I have to worry that the roles will dry up. If I can draw people to the movie theater, I'll get the jobs. But, even if I don't, I'll still be able to work. I've started my own production company, and I'm negotiating to buy the rights to a couple of scripts and a book. All great stories. No one's going to have to hold a bake sale for me, Mia."
"I want to say yes." She fisted her hands in his shirt to keep from wrapping her arms around him. "Want it more than anything. But I guess I'm having a hard time believing that this is real and not an impulse you'll regret later."
He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers for a moment. Then he took her hand and led her to the couch. When she sat down, he sat right next to her. Curled his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him.
"Okay, Mia. I get it. Pretty words won't do it for you. I knew I'd have to prove it." He buried his face in her hair, inhaled deeply, then took her hand. "Which of those houses did you like?"
"They were both beautiful."
"Yeah, they were. But which one could you see yourself living in?"
His hand tightened on hers. Despite herself, she clung to him, too. She wanted this. So, so much. And she was beginning to let herself believe it could happen. "The second one," she said softly. "It needs some work, but it was real. It felt like a place people lived, rather than a showplace that had had all the life rehabbed out of it."
He let out a long breath. "I thought you'd prefer that one."
"Which one did you like better?" she asked.
He kissed her hand, then slid his fingers between hers. "If I'd looked at those houses six months ago, I wouldn't have even considered the second place." He nuzzled her hair. "I would have grabbed the shiny, polished house. The illusion of the perfect place to live.
"But then I met you. Fell in love with you. Now the first house reminds me of my place in California. All carefully coordinated and perfect and sterile. I want the second place. Now I understand the beauty of a place that's been lived in. A house that has nicks in the wood from kids crashing their trucks into it. Pencil marks on the wall to keep track of how those kids have grown.
"That's what I want. A home that's been loved."
She couldn't resist rubbing her fingers over his chin. His cheek. His mouth. "I know you think you want real," she said, leaning back to see his eyes. "But real can be ugly. Real means there'll be tough times. Times when one of us wants to walk away. What happens when you figure out that real isn't always exciting and fun?"
"I don't expect it to be. I expect to work for what I want with you. I expect we'll get angry with each other. We'll fight. Yell and scream. But we'll always work it out, Mia. Because I love you enough to not give up. I love you enough to never walk away again."
He eased away and studied her, his expression uncertain. "Mia, I love you. Will you take a chance on me, even though I've been a jerk? Will you marry me, in spite of the way I hurt you? There's nothing I want more in this life."
She took a deep breath. Then another one. "I want to, Finn. I do. But…"
"I know. You're scared." He inhaled shakily. "I am, too. I'm terrified. What if I screw this up? I don't want to hurt you again."
"I'm more scared of me than I am of you." She exhaled, the confession of her deepest fear making a weight fall from her chest. "I could screw this up, too." She burrowed into him, holding him tight. "You're not the only one with a tough, demanding job. You saw what I was like last night. I was a wreck. That wasn't a one-time thing. I guarantee it'll happen again. I'm a murder cop. I'll see death and violence every day. What happens when you can't deal with that anymore?"
"Then I'll hold you while you cry. We'll make love until you can't think of anything but me. And the next day, we'll both go out and do our jobs again."
"It's not that simple, babe." She smoothed her fingers over his nape, let the soft, silky hair there caress her palm. "All you've seen is the tough side of me. The cop on the job. Those three weeks we were together, you saw the sexy me. Sure of myself. Confident." In love with you. "Last night you saw the woman beneath my bravado."
"I loved her as much as I love my kick-ass Mia." He pulled her onto his lap. "You think I'm not going to get bad news about my job? Have problems with it? We'll hold each other up, babe. Take care of each other. Comfort each other."
He bent his head, brushed his mouth against hers. When she pulled him closer, he sighed into her mouth as he deepened the kiss.
In moments they were ripping each other's clothes off. He swiveled to lean against the arm of the couch while Mia slid naked onto his lap. When she twined her hands with his, he surged to meet her. But before he could take her breast in his mouth, his gaze drifted over her shoulder. Landed on the chair at the end of the couch.
He froze.
Closing his eyes, he slid farther onto the couch cushions, until Mia was all he saw. "I can't do this, Mia. Not here."
She stared down at him, letting his hands go to tangle her fingers in the soft hair on his chest. "What are you talking about?"
"Your father's chair," he groaned. "It's like he's watching us."
Mia giggled, her heart expanding until it filled her chest. Joy sizzled through her veins. "That's going to be a problem."
"What do you mean?" He shifted to sit up, but held her close while he moved.
"How are we going to christen every room in that big new house of ours if you're afraid of my father catching us in the act in the living room?"
His whole face lit up. He pulled her against him and murmured against her lips, "Maybe we can cover him with a blanket."
"He'll still be able to hear us, you know." She rubbed her nose against his.
"We'll have to be quiet, then. Think you can do that?"
"I don't know," she whispered, tugging on his ear lobe. "You make quiet impossible."
"Then I guess we'll have to practice." He lifted her off his lap and stood up, pulling her close. "A lot. We want to make sure we get it right."
"Yeah," she said, taking his hand and tugging him toward the bedroom. "We'd better get started right away."
Epilogue
One month later
Finn had just tightened the last bolt attaching the seat to the new toilet in the master bathroom when Mia called up the stairs. "Hey, babe, the movers are here."
"We'll be right down," he called back.
Jamie was already putting the tools back in the red tool box. "Nice job, rookie," Jamie said with a grin, giving him a fist bump. "Your first toilet install."
"It's a great toilet, isn't it?" Finn stood back and beamed with pride.
"Most beautiful toilet ever," Jamie assured him, biting his lip to keep from laughing.
"Yeah, I'm a nerd," Finn said with a grin. "So sue me." Finn grabbed the tool box and headed for the stairs. "Let's go supervise the movers. Earn our beer."
"Right behind you, plumber guy."
Two hours later, Mia stood in the cardboard box-cluttered living room and lifted her bottle of beer to toast her family. "Thank you, everyone," she said. "You guys are the best moving crew in the city."
"You mean the best supervisors, right?" Finn said, wrapping his arm around Mia's shoulders. "All we did was make sure everything was put into the right room."
He twined Mia's free hand with his as he lifted his own bottle and smiled at his fiancée, loving the way her eyes sparkled. The way happiness spilled out of her, making her glow.
All Mia's siblings and their partners, as well as Jamie, Pete and Rose, raised their beers in response. Helen raised a bottle of sparkling water. "Congratulations, both of you," Rose said. Her eyes twinkling, she added, "I expect some grandchildren to fill up this place."
"Don't be greedy, Mom," Mia said with a predictable eye roll. "F
inn and I want some time together before we have kids. And besides, don't you think you'll have your hands full with Charlotte and the twins, and Brendan and Cilla's baby?"
Sitting in Mia's dad's chair, Helen rested her hand on her enormous belly. "She's right, Rosie. You told me you always wanted twins. In a couple of weeks, you'll have your chance to experience them, up close and personal." She nodded at Pete. "You, too, Pete." She clapped her hand over her mouth. "Oops."
"Sorry, Rosie," Helen said, biting her lip. "Hope I didn't scare him away."
"Not possible, Helen," Pete said, drawing Rose closer so they were squashed together in a corner of the couch. "I'm going to love being a grandpa." He gazed at Charlotte, who was toddling between one box and the next, pounding a teething ring on top of each box. Finn bit his lip to hide his grin at the sappy expression on his gruff friend's face.
"We're hoping you guys are old hands by the time our baby is born," Cilla said. She picked up Charlotte, settling the toddler on her lap, holding her against Cilla's barely visible baby bump. Charlotte patted her face with drool-covered hands, and Cilla pretended to nibble her fingers.
Finn couldn't remember ever being this happy. After a predictable amount of grief from her brothers, which had subsided when he admitted he deserved it, he'd melded seamlessly with Mia's family. He'd bickered with her brothers at their monthly dinners, played with Charlotte, teased Pete and Rose. He and Jamie had even done some work on the house before he and Mia moved in. Not only had they not killed each other, but Finn had loved hammering and sweating, and Jamie had become a good friend.
"Have you two picked a date yet?" Rose asked Mia.
"Nope," Mia said, snuggling closer to him. "The rest of us have already talked," she said, waving her beer bottle in a circle that included everyone. "We have Brendan and Cilla's wedding next month. Then you and Pete are first, Mom. We're throwing the party for you. After that, Finn and I will figure out when we're getting married."
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