The Comeback Kiss

by Lani Diane Rich

  She huffed in frustration. “I don’t need a car. I have a car.”

  He shrugged. “Give it to your sister, then. Izzy’s gotta be coming up on sixteen about now, right?”

  “She’ll be seventeen in May,” Tessa said. “And it doesn’t matter, because there’s no way in hell I’m giving my little sister that car.”

  “Why not?” he said. “It was good enough for you.”

  “It’s got bad karma, and the last thing Izzy needs is...” She stopped, regrouped. “Hey, let’s revisit that part where you were leaving.”

  “The karma can’t be all bad,” Finn said, a sly smile forming on his lips. “I remember having some pretty good times in the Thing.”

  “Shut up,” Tessa said, but could feel her cheeks starting to warm at the memory. His eyes locked with hers in a playful game, and despite herself Tessa felt that same old spark, remnants of teenage lust gone horribly, horribly wrong.

  This is definitely not how I imagined this moment. “Look, there’s no time to argue,” she said, pushing the keys at him again. “Just take it and go.”

  His smile faded and he shook his head. “I’ll walk to the edge of town and hitch from there.”

  “You can’t,” she said. “Someone will see you, pick you up, and bring you back to town. Probably throw you a damn parade.”

  “A parade?” He chuckled. “I think I might need more than the Reader’s Digest version of this story.”

  She met his eyes and the panic subsided, replaced by... what was she feeling? Abject terror? Disgust? The strange and unnerving desire to do things with Finn that would make the backseat of any decent car blush? Was she really that special brand of girl-dumb that threw all remnants of pride and reason out the window when first loves had the tactless nerve to come back?

  Oh, holy hell. He needed to leave, and he needed to leave now.

  “Wait here,” she said through clenched teeth. “I’ll bring the car around and I’ll drive you out to I-91 and drop you there, and whatever happens to you from there on out is your problem ”

  She stepped out to pass him, but he grabbed her wrist and she stopped dead in her tracks at his touch, which zoomed up her arm like an electric current.

  Old wiring, she thought. Means nothing.

  He stood there looking at her, an odd half smile on his face.

  “You look good,” he said finally.

  He reached up and nudged a curl away from her forehead and suddenly she was eighteen again, crackling with energy and drowning in stupid.

  “Finn, I don’t have time to play ga—”

  “Don’t sell it,” he said softly, his eyes uncharacteristically earnest.

  “What?” she said, a strong sense of deja vu washing over her as the current moment vaguely reflected one she’d had with him ten years back, in which Finn had done a conversational dance-and-dodge rather than saying what he’d really meant.

  Which, as it turned out, had been good-bye.

  She gently pulled her arm out of his grip. “We can argue about that in a minute. I’ll be right back.”

  He smiled, but his eyes didn’t, and the deja vu hit again, stronger this time. Everything in her calmed as realization fell over her like a heavy blanket.

  “You’re not going to be here when I come back for you, are you?”

  He released her wrist but didn’t say anything.

  “Fine,” she said. “You know what? Fine. I’ll play this scene again. As long as you’re gone, and no one else sees you or gets a chance to talk to you, I don’t care what happens to you.”

  “As long as I’m gone,” he said.

  “Right.”

  She didn’t move, though, just stood there staring up at him, their faces so close she could smell the scent of him, which was kinda making her a little dizzy.

  Old wiring, she thought, but didn’t get to finish the thought, because suddenly, they were kissing. She didn’t know how, or why, or what had come over her, but she was kissing Dermot Finnegan on the street behind the drugstore.

  And it felt good. Way too good to be good for her.

  After the first moment of surprise passed, one of his arms tightened around her waist and pulled her closer to him, lifting her off her toes for a moment, sending her world rocking. There was something in his response that was oddly fervent, unusual for Finn, who’d always been so cool, and the shock of it all emptied her mind of everything except the feel of his kisses that, she had to admit, were still toe-curling good.

  Which was bad. Bad, bad, bad.

  Tessa pushed her hand against his chest, and after a small struggle with both Finn and herself, managed to separate them enough that they could look at each other.

  “What’s going on here?” she asked, her voice breathless as she stumbled back on her heels.

  “Don’t blame me,” he said, swinging her around in one deft motion and leaning her against the wall of the drugstore. “You started it.”

  “I did not!” she said, but barely got the words out before his lips were on hers again, him leaning over her as he pressed her against the wall. A whirlwind of sparks crackled all through her abdomen, moving lower, and this was stupid and dangerous and yet only about forty percent of her cared, and that just wasn’t enough to make her break the kiss. They gasped and pulled at each other, his hand inside her coat, her fingers knocking off his knit cap as they wound through his hair, all the time her own voice lecturing in her head, like a broken record.

  Never make the same mistake twice. Never make the same mistake twice. Never—

  She put her hands on his shoulders, pushing him away. He looked as surprised as she felt, probably not so much by the kissing itself—they’d had more than their share of strange and inappropriate kissing back in the day—but by the power of it, the way it had taken them both over, a force unto itself.

  “That,” she gasped, gesturing vaguely back and forth between them, “is not going to happen again.”

  He took in a breath, then nodded. “Yeah. Okay.” He watched her for a moment, and she saw his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed before he could speak again. “Better go get that car, then.”

  “Yeah,” she said. She pushed herself away from the wall and took a few wobbly steps toward Main, stopping when she saw Joe Finnegan standing there in his firefighter uniform, hand gripping his ax.

  Oh, God, she thought. This is definitely not how I imagined this moment.

  “Well,” he said, his eyes on Finn. “Looks like at least one person is happy to see you, little brother.”

  Chapter Three

  Finn blinked. Between the strangeness of being in Lucy’s Lake, the all-night drive, the missing rental car, the fire, and kissing Tessa—mostly kissing Tessa—his Surreal-O-Meter was peaking out, and it took him a moment to fully process the fact that the older brother he hadn’t seen in more than a decade was standing not ten feet away. But it was definitely Joe. Same dark eyes, dark hair. Same total lack of humor. And by all appearances he was still toting around that Curse-of-the-Good-Brother chip on his shoulder. All responsibility. No fun.

  The firefighter getup was new, though.

  “Hey, Joe,” Finn said, giving Tessa a little squeeze on the elbow as he stepped away from her. It was their code from a lifetime ago, the classic let-me-know-when-you- need-me-to-cover-for-you signal, but he knew she’d remember it. After all, she remembered what it did to him when she ran her fingertips over the hair at the back of his neck. He could only hope that his shirt and coat were hanging low enough to mask the rather obvious aftereffects of that little trick.

  “Finn,” Joe said, his face hard and unreadable. As always. Joe, the strong, silent Finnegan. The Big Protector. God, the way he was looking at Tessa right now...

  Finn stopped, glanced at Tessa, then back at Joe. A thought ran through the back of his mind, but he squelched it. Instead, he widened his stance a touch and locked his eyes on Joe. “Love the getup, bro. But last I heard, you were going to be an electrician.”
/>
  “I am.” Joe lowered his ax slowly. “I volunteer with the fire department.”

  “Did Tarpey tell you I was here? You don’t seem surprised to see me.”

  Joe gave a quick shrug. “Got called in on the fire. Passed by Tessa’s and saw the Thing there on my way in. Kinda put two and two together.”

  Finn broke eye contact to shoot a look at Tessa. “Why does everybody think I set the place on fire?”

  “Can’t imagine,” she said flatly, her left eyebrow quirking at him.

  Okay. Maybe appealing to Tessa wasn’t the wisest move. Finn turned his attention back to his brother.

  “I saved those animals,” he said, playing up the indignation. Granted, he also planned on stealing one, but they didn’t know that. Apparently, the big hero mold Tessa had poured him into only fooled strangers who didn’t know better.

  “Tessa,” Joe said, turning his focus to where Tessa stood. “You can go to the diner.”

  “She can also make her own decisions,” Finn said, taking a step forward. Who the hell did Joe think he was, anyway, telling Tessa what to do?

  Joe’s jaw muscles worked in that I’m-so-manly-I-can’t-express-my-anger-in-words kind of way. Finn clenched his fist at his side. Man, he’d been back in his brother’s presence for less than two minutes, and already he wanted to hit him.

  Had to be some kind of record.

  Joe looked Finn up and down. “So, I guess dressing like a bum is the big new thing in Las Vegas, huh?” Before Finn could react, he heard Tessa clear her throat. The signal.

  “This is my vacation gear,” Finn said. “Some people, they go for the Hawaiian shirt/Bermuda shorts thing—”

  “I see you haven’t changed that much,” Joe interrupted. “Still incapable of a straight answer.”

  Finn met his brother’s eye. “Yeah, but my left hook’s doing fine.”

  Tessa groaned and put her hand to her forehead, and Finn heard her mumble, “Oh, Christ, here we go.”

  Joe took a few steps forward. “So, what brings you to town, Finn? Is it business ... or personal?”

  Joe’s eyes drifted over to indicate Tessa. Tessa’s eyes went down to the ground.

  “Business,” Finn said. “I’m on my way to a job in Boston.”

  Joe nodded. “So, you’re taking cases outside of Vegas now, huh? Business must be good.”

  Cases? Finn kept his face impassive, waiting for Tessa to feed him what he needed. Which she did, expertly couching “P.I.” in a coughing fit.

  So. He was a private investigator now.

  Okay.

  “Yeah,” he said to Joe. “Business is good.”

  He turned slightly toward Tessa. She cleared her throat gently and put her hand to her chest, as though she was surprised and slightly alarmed—but not too much—by her sudden coughing fit. Finn caught a slight flash of gratitude in her eyes, but he only caught it because he knew her so well.

  She was a better liar than he remembered, and he remembered her being pretty good back in the day. A rush of something—excitement, longing, fear, who the hell knew?—ran through him, and he turned his attention back to Joe, whose dark stare did a lot to dampen the effects Tessa was having on Finn.

  “Look, little brother,” Joe said. “You may have the town fooled with all the money you’ve been throwing around here—”

  Tessa cleared her throat again and Finn ground his teeth. So, he’d been throwing money around. Well, that explained Stella Hodgkiss. Of course the why was another matter altogether. Tessa was creative when it came to covering up, but even she wouldn’t go to that much trouble over the town bell. Something else was going on.

  Joe continued. “But I know you better than that. You’re not exactly the charity type.” Joe looked at Tessa again. “Not if there’s nothing in it for you.”

  There was something in Joe’s expression as he looked at Tessa that struck an odd chord of possessiveness in Finn.

  “Hey, Tess,” he said, turning his eyes to her, “something going on here you want to fill me in on?”

  Tessa shot him an indignant look. “Nothing that’s any of your damn business.”

  Well. It was clearly going to take a while to get back on Tessa’s good side. Which he would, if he was staying in town.

  Which he wasn’t, so it didn’t matter.

  Joe took a step forward. “So, how long you here for, Finn? Just passing through to wreak some minor havoc, or planning on hanging around to inflict permanent damage?”

  Finn glanced at Tessa, then looked back at Joe. “Wreak some havoc? Who uses phrases like that in everyday conversation? You wanna ask me a question, ask it. See, like this. Question: How long are you staying? Answer: Long as I damn well feel like staying, that’s how long.”

  Joe took another step forward. “Look, you little punk—”

  Finn took a step closer. “I’m taller than you.”

  “By a half inch.”

  “And yet, still taller.”

  Tessa let out an annoyed sigh and stepped between them. “He was just leaving. He stopped by just long enough to return my car and burn down the pet shop—”

  Finn pointed his finger at her. “This is the last time I rescue animals for you people.”

  “—and he’s on his way out.” She turned to Finn, her face firm, one eyebrow raised. “Now.”

  “Really?” Joe said.

  “Maybe,” Finn said.

  “Now,” Tessa said. She turned her back to Joe and gave Finn the most pathetic pleading look he’d ever seen. It killed him not to smile, but he trusted that if Tessa was playing this game, it was important not to give her away.

  It was the least he could do, really.

  “I’m late for my shift,” she said, pushing past them and out to the street. “You two try not to kill each other.”

  Once she was behind Joe, she held up her keys at Finn and mouthed, “Get rid of him.”

  “Be sure to pick yourself up a lozenge for that throat, Tessa,” Joe said, keeping his eyes on Finn.

  Not everyone in town is buying your story, Tess, Finn thought.

  Tessa shot Finn one quick, pleading look, then darted out into the street.

  Finn looked back at Joe, who stared him down. Somewhere in the back of his imagination, Finn heard the menacing whistle of the theme from The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly. He hesitated a moment, then decided someone had to make the first move. He pulled on what he hoped was a conciliatory smile.

  “So,” he said, “duel at twenty paces?”

  Joe didn’t smile. Big surprise. Humorless ass.

  “Don’t you have a fire to put out?” Finn asked. “Isn’t there a damsel in distress tied to a train track out there somewhere?”

  “As long as you’re here,” Joe said, and Finn could tell it was killing him to say it, “you should go see Max.”

  “Hey, now there’s some bad advice,” Finn said.

  “He’s not getting any younger, you know.”

  Finn felt a slight stab of alarm at Joe’s tone. “Why? What’s wrong? Is he okay?”

  Joe shrugged. “He’s fine. He’s just getting older, and whatever happened between you guys, as long as you’re here, you should make it up.”

  Finn stared at his brother. For once, the hostility in his face was gone. It was still stony, impassive, and kinda square, but definitely not hostile. Finn relaxed his stance a bit.

  “All right,” he said. “I’ll think about it.”

  Joe nodded, hesitated for a moment, then turned and stalked off.

  Finn leaned back against the wall of the drugstore. All he’d wanted was to come into town, right a wrong, and get the hell out. He supposed he could still do that. He could grab his backpack, grab the macaw, and skip town. He pushed himself away from the wall, walked to the corner, and poked his head around to see Joe handing a leashed spaniel to one of the onlookers, delegating responsibility to the rubberneckers like a big damn hero who thinks he’s better than everybody else.

  Asshol
e.

  Finn glanced down at the bench. His backpack was still underneath and, wonder of wonders, the cage with the macaw was still next to it.

  Out of his peripheral vision, he thought he saw Joe look in his direction, and he ducked behind the corner and counted to sixty as he formulated his plan.

  He could grab his pack and the cage, and then cut across Lowery’s field to get to the lake. His toes would likely freeze solid before he got there, but if the shack was still there, he could probably count on the old cot and the woodstove and half a cord of firewood waiting there, as it had been every winter since he was a kid. Dick Lowery made sure of it; his land bordered the lake after which the town was named, and by stocking the shack with the basics he kept the fishermen, drunks, and revelers from wandering onto his property and dying of exposure. It was pretty much a win/win.

  Get moving, he thought, but he stayed where he was, staring off in the direction Tessa had gone. He could still feel her under his hands, taste her on his lips. How did she do that? How did she stay with him even when she wasn’t there?

  That wasn’t normal. It was a bad sign that she could still twist him up like this. If those kisses had lasted any longer, he didn’t know if he’d still be able to form a thought. It had occurred to him that he might see her, but he’d never expected that she’d still pull on him like that, like a force of nature. He still couldn’t believe he’d been stupid enough to kiss her, and yet, when they’d gotten that close, all the wires in his brain crossed and kissing her seemed like the only reasonable thing to do.

  Which wasn’t good. If there was one thing Finn liked to count on, it was his ability to think clearly. Something about Tessa messed with his head, so the best thing to do was to get as far away as humanly possible.

  His internal count hit sixty and Finn peeked his head around the corner. The onlookers had dispersed, probably afraid of being forced by Joe to foster a pet or give blood. Great. His brother was actually good for something.

  He glanced down at the bench. His pack was still there, but the macaw was gone. He looked up and saw Joe putting the cage in the front seat of the lire truck.