by Laura Ann
Goldie bit her lip. “Finley is coming over,” she said softly.
“Ah, the boyfriend.” He took another bite. “Why so early?”
“We are going to work on his art project for the exhibit. He’s one of the sponsors.”
Harlan narrowed his eyes and watched her while he chewed. “Does he treat you well?”
Goldie’s head shot up. “Of course. Why would you ask that?”
Harlan shrugged. “He doesn’t have the best reputation. But, I promised to give him a chance and I am. I just want to make sure.” He looked at her from under his eyebrows. “He looks at you differently.”
“What do you mean?” Goldie frowned.
Harlan finished chewing before he answered. “He looks at you differently than he looks at the other women. I could see it the night he came to dinner, it’s why I backed off. It made me think he might actually be serious about you.”
Only he isn’t. It’s all fake. Goldie chewed her lip. She desperately wanted to confide in someone and of all her brothers, Harlan would be the one to speak to. But she was afraid he would hurt Finley if she admitted what was going on. On the other hand, she was so confused and her feelings were already too deep to come out of this without a broken heart.
“What is it?” Harlan asked.
Goldie raised her eyebrows.
“You’re thinking awfully deep. Looks like something you should share.” He wiped a drip of syrup off his chin.
“I...”
“Come on, Tiny. Out with it.”
Goldie glared but then slumped. “None of it is real.”
Harlan’s brow shot up. “Excuse me?”
“None of it is real. Our relationship is fake.” Goldie put her hands out to either side of her.
Harlan set down his fork, leaned back in his seat and folded his arms. “Explain.”
Leaning her forearms onto the table, Goldie told him the whole situation. From her first rejection of Finley to how they agreed to swap his donation for her helping keep Victoria and the press off his back.
Harlan didn’t utter a word, watching her intently until she finished. After a few seconds, he finally spoke up. “You love him.”
“What!” Goldie screeched. “I just told you this whole thing was fake and you think I’m in love with him?” Dang brothers. How do they see these things.
“No more lies.”
“Okay, fine. Yes, I’m in love with him. But it doesn’t matter. To him, this whole thing is a lie. He’s given no indication he feels otherwise. And besides,” she sighed and slumped in her seat. “I’m definitely not his type, no matter how you think he looks at me. I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m a little off my rocker.”
Harlan chuckled. “Well, you did just go all crazy on his ex-girlfriend the other day.”
Or it could be the fact that I broke into his house the other day. “She was totally asking for it. You should have seen her!” Goldie exclaimed. “Acting like she owned the place and everything in it. Including Finley.”
Harlan smiled. “Jealousy isn’t your best color, Squirt.”
“Stop calling me that,” Goldie whined.
Harlan shrugged. “Whatever. But I think you’re missing something very important.”
“What’s that?”
Harlan looked around and then leaned forward as if his words were a great secret. “You’ll have to figure that out for yourself.”
“Are you-”
The doorbell rang, interrupting her response. Goldie jumped out of her chair.
Harlan laughed. “Better let lover boy in. I don’t think he’s the patient kind.”
Goldie scrunched her face at Harlan before heading to the front door. She ran a hand over her curls, hoping they looked at least semi-tame before swinging the door wide.
“Hey, Beautiful.” Finley stepped in and kissed her on the cheek.
Goldie felt her whole body melt and she grabbed onto Finley’s arm for support. “Good morning, Fin.” After stiffening her knees, she stepped back. “Come on in, I made pancakes.”
“Nice! I’m starving.” He smiled and grabbed her hand, dragging her into the dining room.
“Morning, Finley,” Harlan greeted as they came in.
“Morning...” Finley trailed off.
Harlan sat back and grinned, then waved a hand in the air, obviously waiting for Finley to guess which brother he was.
Goldie slapped Harlan on the back of the head. “This one’s Harlan.” She glared at her brother and pointed a finger in his face. “Play nice.”
Harlan gave a crooked grin and rubbed the back of his head. “I always play nice.”
“That’ll be the day,” Goldie said with a light laugh.
Harlan scowled playfully at her.
“How do you tell them apart?” Finley leaned down to her ear.
Goldie couldn’t quite contain the shiver that ran down her spine and she prayed Finley didn’t notice. “Uh, time mostly. I’ve known them too long and they look different to me.” She glanced up at him.
“I’ve heard mothers say the same thing, when they have twins or whatnot.”
Goldie nodded. “It’s true. When you are with them constantly, you notice all the subtle differences that outsiders don’t see.” Geez, his eyes are so dark. I don’t even know what to call them. They aren’t black, but the brown is so dark they might as well be.
Goldie’s stare was broken when Harlan cleared his throat. She jumped back from Finley’s intense presence and glared at her brother.
Harlan had his head over his plate and his shoulders were shaking with mirth. Stinker. Just wait until he finds someone he likes.
Finley gently grabbed her fingers, drawing her attention back to him.
“Later,” he mouthed with a pump of his eyebrows. “So... what’s a guy gotta do to get some breakfast around here, huh?”
“Have a seat!” Harlan exclaimed, pulling out the chair next to him.
“I wouldn’t,” Goldie said as she gave her brother a look. Looking back at Finley she explained, “My brothers are notorious for stealing food. If you value your bacon, I’d sit at least two chairs away.”
“Hey!” Harlan shouted. “No giving away the family secrets!”
Goldie shook her head and directed Finley to a different chair before going in the kitchen to grab him some food. Men.
An hour later she and Finley stood in her garage.
Finley whistled low under his breath. “Man... this place is a mess!”
“What?” Goldie’s jaw dropped and she smacked him with the back of her hand.
“Hey, now,” Finley grabbed her hand and held onto it. “No beating up the students. I’m pretty sure there are laws against that.”
Goldie made a show of tilting her head as far back as it would go. “I’m not sure someone as big as you counts as a student.”
Finley chuckled. “Sweetheart, I would be willing to bet even prepubescent boys are bigger than you.”
Goldie pulled her hand from his and turned to face him, hands on her hips. “Don’t mess with me, Mister. I may be small, but I’m mighty.” She poked him in the gut. Geez! He’s like a rock.
“Stop!” Finley twisted away from her.
Goldie’s eyebrows shot up and a wide smile crossed her face. “Oh, my goodness. You’re ticklish!”
“No.” Finley straightened and smoothed down his shirt. “I absolutely am not. Gruffman’s aren’t ticklish.”
Goldie stepped over to him. “Then I guess you won’t mind if I do this.” She ran a couple of fingers up his side.
“Of course, I mind!” He grabbed her hand.
Goldie was laughing as she spoke. “I thought you weren’t ticklish?”
“I’m not. I just don’t like people messing up my clothes.”
“Messing up your clothes?”
“Yes,” Finley sniffed.
Goldie looked at his cotton t-shirt then back at him. “I fail to see how I messed it up.”
“Well, you would have
if I hadn’t stopped you.” Finley grinned smugly and tilted his head to the side.
“I see. Does that apply to other parts of you as well?” Goldie batted her eyelashes.
Finley frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Well, like your hair for instance.” Reaching with her free hand, Goldie mussed his hair quite vigorously.
“Hey! Stop that!” Finley grabbed her hand, now holding both of them captive. With a jerk, he pulled her in close to him.
Goldie’s mind stuttered and her breathing became labored.
“Be careful playing with fire, Little One.” He ran his nose against her cheek. “You’re liable to get burned.”
All the fantasies running through Goldie’s head came to a screeching halt. Is he warning me that he will break my heart? I’m just another woman to him and he knows this is going to end. Oh my gosh, Harlan was so wrong.
Fighting every muscle in her body, Goldie forced herself to step back. She clasped her hands together to stop their trembling and tried to force a casualness she didn’t feel into her voice. “Right. Well. What kind of project do you think you want to try?” She took the opportunity to put distance between them by walking around and pointing out the different art stations she had.
“Watercolors, acrylics, stencils, pottery, wood-”
“Pottery,” Finley quickly responded.
Goldie’s head shot up. “Really?”
Finley grinned and walked over to the wheel before looking at her. “Sure. It spins and you shape the dough, right? How hard can it be?”
Goldie bit her lip to keep from laughing as she walked over. “Okay, first of all, it’s not ‘dough’. It’s clay and it’s actually a lot harder than it looks. Maybe we should start with-”
“Nope. I want to try this.” Finley folded his arms and spread his legs as if preparing for battle.
Goldie sighed. He would have to pick the one thing I have to get up close and personal with. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
FINLEY GAVE AN INTERNAL ‘whoop’ when she finally agreed. He had been so disappointed when their moment earlier had ended. I’m not sure what scared her off, but I’m not willing to give up.
He knew she was attracted to him. At least she is physically. He had thought she was starting to feel more, but maybe he was wrong. She had been skittish the last few days, and he wasn’t sure why. He had gone out of his way to be as polite and charming as possible. He snorted. Maybe she likes it when we butt heads instead of when we get along.
“Ready?” Goldie asked as she filled a bowl with water and brought it over to the work station.
“Sure.”
“Why don’t you grab one of those aprons and put it on?” Goldie used her elbow to point to a stack of heavy duty aprons.
Finley wrinkled his nose. Flipping through them, he found they were all covered in paints and stains, not to mention they all looked way too small to fit him. “Uh, that’s okay. I think I’ll go without.”
Goldie raised her eyebrows. “Pottery is super messy. You’re going to want something to protect your clothes.” She eyed the pile. “I can always see if my brothers have something if you don’t want one of those.”
“Nah,” Finley looked at his clothes. “These aren’t anything special. If they get ruined, then hey, at least it was for a good cause, huh?”
Goldie narrowed her eyes. “I’m pretty sure those jeans cost more than I make in a week, if I saw the brand correctly.”
Finley fought the temptation to point out that in order to see the brand she would have had to have looked at his backside. I’m not sure she would appreciate that joke right now. Instead, he shrugged. “They’re old though. No biggie. Besides, I have someone who comes to do laundry and I have no doubt she can get out any stain we can create.”
Goldie shook her head and went back to her preparations. “They’re your clothes.”
Finley grinned when he heard her mutter something about spoiled, rich boys.
“Alrighty, then. Here we go. Have a seat, please.” Goldie pointed to the small stool in front of the pottery wheel.
Finley eyed it as he approached. “Who is this made for? A midget?”
“No, actually, it’s intended for normal, ordinary sized people. So, what does that make you?” Goldie tilted her chin in the air.
Finley got right down in her face, so close he could smell her strawberry lip gloss. I’ll bet it tastes as good as it smells. “Extraordinary,” he said in a husky whisper.
Goldie’s lips were parted and she stood speechless in front of him. The urge to kiss her was strong, but Finley decided to play with her a little longer before reeling her in. She needs to want it as bad as I do.
He stood up. “Are you sure I won’t break it?”
Goldie blinked a couple of times, the dazed look finally disappearing. “Um, yeah...” she cleared her throat. “Go ahead and try to sit.”
Finley gingerly sat down on the stool, surprised it didn’t completely buckle underneath him. He wiggled just a little, testing its strength. “Okay, looks like I won’t land on my butt.”
Goldie bit both lips between her teeth, holding in a grin. “Comfortable?”
“Not really, I feel like I’m playing with dollhouse furniture.” He held in a triumphant smile as Goldie giggled and proceeded to prop his knees to either side of the wheel. “But I digress.” He looked up at Goldie. “What next?”
Plop!
Goldie threw a large mound of clay into the middle of the wheel. Dirty water splattered all over Finley’s shirt and pants. He looked down then looked up at her. “You did that on purpose.”
Goldie shrugged. “I warned you it was a messy job.”
Finley scowled.
“Here, get your hands wet. You’re going to need to help work water through the clay.”
Finley dipped his hands in the bowl she had provided and flicked some water in her face before putting his hands on the clay.
“I guess I deserved that,” Goldie murmured as she wiped the droplets from her cheek.
“Yep.”
“Okay, so, let’s turn on the wheel. Pull your hands back for a minute.”
The whir of the machine settled into a soothing hum and Finley found himself fascinated at the spinning of the mound in the middle.
“Okay, go ahead and put your hands on the clay and play with it for a minute. See how it feels, make sure it has enough water.” Goldie waved her hand on the clay.
Slowly, Finley reached out and let his fingers run along the side of the clay. It felt smooth but firm under his touch. He laid his whole hand down and began pressing into the glob. Slowly, it gave way under his fingers, creating odd lumps and bumps that shifted as the wheel spun. “So cool!”
“Decided arts and crafts aren’t so bad, huh?” Goldie put her hands on her hips and bent at the waist to grin at Finley.
“Not so bad at all,” Finley jumped forward and caught a quick kiss on Goldie’s full lips before putting his attention back on the clay. Well, that backfired. Now I just want to kiss her more. Hopefully, he glanced up through his lashes at her stunned face, it did the same for her.
“How do I tell if it has enough water?” Finley asked.
“Oh... um... I mean.” Goldie shook her head. “Here, let me check.” Wetting her fingers, she reached out and put her hands on the clay along with Finley’s. “It’s almost there, here,” she palmed a few teaspoons of water. “Let me add this and we should be good to go.”
When her hands were back on the clay, Finley made his move. He purposefully entangled his fingers with hers. The silky smoothness of the clay mixed with the electric sensation of touching her nearly brought him to his knees. “Come help me,” he rasped. Tugging on her hand, he brought her to stand in front of him. “Go ahead and sit,” he whispered up at her.
Goldie’s face showed uncertainty, but Finley was positive he saw longing and just a bit of heat in her eyes and it gave him courage.
Gingerly, she sat down on
this thigh, her shoulder toward his chest. He kept his arms wrapped around her as they faced the wheel together.
He leaned into her ear. “Tell me what to do,” he rumbled softly before kissing the edge of her ear.
“I-I.” She took a deep breath. “I can’t think when you do things like that,” she admitted. Her eyes darted sideways to meet his, then went back to the clay.
Score one for me. “Then, show me instead.”
Goldie’s hands trembled as she reached out and covered his hands with hers. She worked to shift his hands into a cupping shape in order to guide the clay. With one hand on the inside and the other shaping the outside, she helped him hollow and bring the clay up, slowly changing it into a bowl shape.
Finley could hardly breath and he felt as though he might explode if this went on much longer. She has to feel this pull between us. She has to feel how perfect we are together.
Ignoring the clay for a moment, Finley leaned in and nuzzled Goldie’s neck.
Goldie jerked and gasped, causing them to collapse the half-done project on the wheel. She frowned and looked over her shoulder. “Fin!”
Finley smiled unrepentantly. “I can’t help it.” He touched her nose with his finger, leaving a streak of clay water. “You’re too much of a temptation.”
Goldie’s face fell and Finley could feel her body start to tremble slightly. “I’m so confused, Fin.”
He leaned in and slid his cheek against hers. “About what, sweetheart?”
“I thought this was all fake,” Goldie said in a hoarse whisper. She swallowed a couple of times and her body shuddered as she fought for a good breath. “But it doesn’t feel fake.”
Finley pulled back to look her directly in the eye. Her eyes were watery and her eyebrows pulled down at the end. The sadness he saw there caused his heart to pinch. “Do you want it to be fake?” He rumbled quietly.
Finley thought he might expire in the time it took to answer. Goldie looked scared as she chewed on her bottom lip for several moments. Maybe if she knew how I felt first? Finley gathered his courage and said, “Because I don’t,” just as Goldie blurted, “No!”