by Mara Jacobs
What a waste. She could almost cry for the kids they were. Finding the love of your life so young, and not being mature enough to see it through. Letting things like pride and lack of esteem rule your heart. She was as much at fault as he was, adhering to some crazy life plan that ended up getting shot to hell anyway.
Lizzie froze, realizing what she’d just said to herself. Finding the love of your life. The epiphany was as strong and clear as the one she had the day she met Davis Cummings. She had loved Finn. She had found the love of her life at eighteen.
She took a deep breath, feeling her chest tightening with the knowledge. Why had she denied it back then? That was simple. As intense as her feelings for Finn were, she was practical enough, even at that young age, to think that it was only lust, that she could not possibly fall in love so young.
After all, she’d had a plan.
Besides, if she was in love with Finn, wouldn’t she want to show him off? Trot him out in front of the entire senior class of Hancock High? But she hadn’t. She didn’t like the way he dressed, was embarrassed that he worked at the Mine Shaft three years out of high school. And she lived in fear of being somewhere with other people and coming upon Finn’s drunken mother.
But Lizzie wouldn’t deny it to herself any longer. She had loved Finn. Deeply, and with a conviction that had not faded after eighteen years. And if she were really honest with herself, she’d admit that she loved him still.
Damn. Damn. Damn. This was not part of her plan.
Chapter Eighteen
√ Buy more condoms
√ Do something nice for Clea
Call Sybil
Finn heard Liz call out to him and he directed her to the back of the barn where he was working. “What did Gran want?” he asked when she reached him.
He sensed, more than saw, her shrug. “Oh nothing. Just wanted to show me some pictures of you as a kid.”
Knowing there were no childhood pictures of him in the trailer - they were all in the family albums kept in the main house - but not wanting to push Liz, he let it slide. He wasn’t stupid enough to bang his head against the wall of a woman that didn’t want him to know something. “Mmm,” was all he said.
“What are you doing?” she asked. She was standing directly behind him. He could feel her knees graze against his back as he sat on his haunches patching a hole in one of the stalls. Damn, but even her knees could make him hard. And he’d just had her in this same barn a couple of hours ago. Get a grip.
That was the problem, he’d lost his grip entirely where Liz was concerned. The promise he’d made to himself at the dance - to finally sleep with her then cool things down - had flown out the window that very night. And the idea of keeping his distance from her now was laughable.
When he held her in his arms, when he was buried deep inside her, his hands clutching her full hips, her hands cradling his face, he knew he was dealing with much more than a summer fling.
Thank God he was involved with Liz and not some traitorous bitch like Dana. Liz had been very up front about not needing any commitments from him. But this was Liz, and Liz was not the type to jump into flings. Though they had not yet spoken about anything beyond the summer, Finn knew Liz shared the same deep feelings as he did. He felt it when they made love. And that’s exactly how he’d come to think of his time with Liz, making love. He had another week at least - because no way would she leave before the fundraiser was over - to broach the subject with her.
The subject of a future together.
It would take some doing. He couldn’t leave the farm right now, so she would have to relocate. He felt shitty asking her to do that, but he knew she loved this area, could see it whenever they were near the lake. She couldn’t take her eyes away from the calming water. Besides, that was probably the least of the sacrifices he’d be asking her to make to have a future together. There was Annie and Stevie. Liz and Stevie were tight, but it was still touch and go with Annie. Finn knew that most of that was Annie’s fear about the upcoming surgery, so that would soon come to an end. Gran already loved Liz, and that feeling seemed mutual, so he didn’t really see a problem there.
Finn only knew he couldn’t let her get away again. It had been the biggest mistake he’d made in his life, but in a way he couldn’t regret it. If he hadn’t broken things off with her, he would never have hooked up with Dana, and there’d be no Stevie and Annie. Yeah, things had been pretty shitty with Dana and with Annie’s illness, but Finn became paralyzed with fear at the thought of life without his two children.
Just like he’d come to feel about life without Liz.
She’d done the one thing that Finn thought impossible – restored his sense of trust.
God, she was such a genuinely good person. To come into his life and give so much, without asking for anything in return. Well, technically she did ask for something...a summer fling. But to his way of thinking, that wasn’t asking anything of him, it was his pleasure. He knew he didn’t deserve her, but this time he wouldn’t let that stop him. He’d live his life trying to earn her love.
He was sure Liz loved him, just as he knew he’d always loved her. She was probably just a little gun shy. That was likely for a couple of reasons. First, he’d burned her before. Sure it was a long time ago, and she said she had forgiven him, but he knew he’d hurt her. Second, she’d been through a lot the last few years losing weight. Finn didn’t know much about that kind of stuff, but figured something that dramatic would probably screw with your mind a little. Though Liz didn’t seem to harbor too many hang ups about that. Or if she did, she hid them well.
Still, he wished he could get her to see her body the way he saw it. Full. Delectable. Delicious. Sexy. Desired beyond belief. He’d been thinking about how to go about that when she found him in the barn.
“Just patching a hole,” he said. He tilted his head up to look at her but she was looking away, around the barn. Finn followed her gaze, saw her noticing the different patches not only in this stall, but all around this far end of the barn. The holes were mostly patched, but the patching was all new, and in various degrees of drying. Some had been patched as recently as yesterday or the day before, and a few were drier, indicating they had been done longer ago. All were relatively newly patched.
He finished the patch and rose to his feet, putting his tools away, even though another hole was only a few feet away from where he worked.
“Why aren’t you going to do that one?” she asked, pointing to another hole with her tan leg, her sexy toes poking from her sandals.
“Another time,” he said, pushing past her and taking the tools to the makeshift workbench along the far side of the barn.
“Don’t rush on my account, I’m in no hurry, in fact, I’ll help if you want.” She moved to his side, reaching for his hammer.
Finn chuckled. “No, it’s okay. I just wanted to do the one tonight. The others will wait till another time.” He intercepted her arm that reached for the hammer and placed it on his chest instead. “I can give you another job, though, if you’re so interested in working with my tools,” he said with a grin.
“Ha. What are you, in eighth grade? That sounds like something Stevie and his buds would say,” she said, but she wasn’t angry. Her hand smoothed up and down his chest, seeming to like what she felt.
Finn damn sure liked what he felt. He couldn’t believe he was getting aroused again so soon. It was only a few hours ago that he’d tumbled Liz in the hay like the proverbial farmer’s daughter. He was thirty-eight years old but his body responded to Liz like he was a randy teenager. “Let’s get out of here. I don’t think you want to pick all that hay out of your hair again.”
She stepped into him, curling her arms around his neck, placing her face on his chest. “I asked Clea to sleep in the house tonight. I want you to spend the night with me, is that okay?”
Okay? Hell yes it was okay. He hadn’t been able to sleep with Liz in his arms since that first night. He hated slinking away from her
bed in the middle of night. Like she was some hook-up he couldn’t wait to get away from. Nothing was further from the truth.
“Hell yes, it’s okay. Let me go check on the kids, then let’s go.” He started to move, but she held him fast.
“Finn? Why are all these holes patched so weirdly, like they were done at different times, but all recently?” Her eyes scanned his handiwork.
Damn. How much to tell her? “That’s exactly why. They were patched at different times. I finally got around to starting the repairs a few weeks ago.” Again, he tried to walk away. This time she let him go, standing firm. He took a couple of steps before he realized he’d lost her. Turning, he saw she wasn’t satisfied with his answer.
“Why not just patch them all at once? Like now, we could have them all done in no time.”
“No, that’s not how I’m doing it,” he said firmly. She seemed to bristle at his tone and he figured he’d have to explain it all. Damn, how to do this and not sound like a total sap?
He took a deep breath and stepped back, half sitting, half leaning against a sawhorse. “Do you remember asking me that night at the beach when I told you about Dana and Annie why I wasn’t more furious?”
She nodded, her glossy black hair bobbing with her. “Yes. You said I should have seen you then, that you were furious. And you had the holes…” her voice slowed as the situation was dawning on her, “in the barn to prove it.” She waved her hands around the back area. “So this is the outcome of your frustration?” At his nod, she asked, “Okay. But why start patching them now? And why one at a time?”
His shoulders sagged, just a little. Shit. Just tell her, maybe it won’t sound as pussy-whipped out loud.
“I came in here the morning I got back from your place. That first night we were together. It was still pretty early, so instead of going into the house, I came out here first. I walked back here to get something and saw that hole.” He pointed to the largest hole, now patched and painted. “I’m not sure why, probably having just been with you. How good you are, Liz. How sweet. I don’t know, but I felt like I needed to get rid of that hole, so I patched it. I was just about to do the next one when I heard Stevie up and in the yard, so I went to the house.”
She stood staring at him. He knew she was probably embarrassed at his words, Liz just couldn't handle a compliment. He went on, determined to see this thing through.
“Anyway, I only patched the one. Then after we made love the next time I came out and patched another one. Again, I planned on patching them all, but I stopped after the one.”
She started looking around, seemingly counting the patched holes and the ones still to patch, realizing the amount of fury that had gone through him all those years ago by the sheer volume of damage. And also the amount of time they had spent in bed by the number of patches.
“It kind of became a thing. Each time we got together I’d come out and patch another hole.” He had her attention again. “This is going to sound corny as hell, Liz, but it was like each time we made love it wiped out one more bad thing that had happened in my life. The patching seemed to be a way to acknowledge that.”
Had he still owned his horses, he was certain he’d be able to hear their hearts beating, the barn had gotten so quiet.
His eyes never left hers. God, he was so in love with her. She was staring straight at him, his beautiful Liz, scared to death of the things he was saying, but so desperately wanting to hear them. He could do that for her, at least. It was hard, and not in his nature, but he could let her know how special she was, how beautiful. That she wasn’t just loved because she had always been “the nice one”, but because of the wonderful, generous, loving person she had become.
Damn. He could see she didn’t know what to say. He shouldn’t have told her about the holes. He hadn’t intended to, but Liz brought out an honesty and integrity in him he’d been sure he’d left behind in the divorce lawyer’s office. The day he’d sold his daughter’s future for his and his children’s freedom.
He rose from the sawhorse, started to say something, but her tender look stilled him. She moved to him, took his hand and led him to the front of the barn to the door. “Come home with me,” she whispered. He followed, saying nothing.
Finn led her into her bedroom at her parents’ place, shut the door and turned on the light switch. Liz automatically moved to turn it off and he gently grasped her hand. “Not this time. Tonight, we do things my way.” He could sense her trepidation, but he pushed it aside. He knew his intentions, he wasn’t going to hurt her. Not if she trusted in him like he trusted her.
She started to move toward the bed, but he held her firm where they were. They stood in front of the closed bedroom door, which held a full-length mirror. He turned her to face the mirror, standing behind her, his hands firmly on her shoulders.
“Tell me what you see,” he whispered into her ear, brushing her hair aside to bare her neck. His breath sent a chill through her and Finn thrilled to know he could make her body respond to him so easily.
She seemed to sense what he was trying to do, what he was going to do, and her body tensed. Then she relaxed and shot back with a jaunty, “I see Clea’s fabulous cooking right here,” she placed a hand on her right hip, “and here,” her left hand on her behind. Her tone was light, teasing, but Finn saw no amusement in her hazel eyes.
This was going to be harder than he thought. Damn. He didn’t let her joking distract him. “I’ll tell you what I see, Liz. I see a very beautiful woman.”
A nervous smile graced her beautiful mouth. “Finn, you don’t need to do this. To sweet-talk me. I’m a sure thing.” She nudged her elbow lightly into his gut, to emphasize her joke. She started to move away from him, but he clamped a hand around her waist to keep her still.
“Don’t, Liz. Don’t joke this away. I know it’s hard for you to take a compliment, babe, so just be quiet and listen. Okay?” He wasn’t really asking her permission, but he stared at her reflection until she met his eyes and slowly nodded.
His fingers reached around her, through her arms which hung limply at her sides, to begin unbuttoning her blouse. It was a cotton, short-sleeve blouse and was easily disposed of, thrown across a nearby chair. The tan of her chest and arms seemed even deeper compared to the pale cream of her tummy and the tops of her breasts that peeked above her bra.
He slid his hands down her sides, feeling a soft quake from her. He undid the button and zipper to her shorts. He felt her squirm, but he held her hips in place as he pushed the shorts down to the floor. He directed her to step out of them, and when she did, he kicked them to the side.
Her panties and bra were of a soft, robin’s egg blue. Satiny innocence that demanded his attention. “So pretty,” he whispered, letting his tongue glide against her neck. He was rewarded by a soft sigh as she leaned back against his chest.
Needing to feel her hot skin against his, he eased her away from him only long enough to peel off his tee shirt and jeans. He then pulled her back to him, he only in boxers and she in bra and panties. Her panties were high on her waist covering way too much in Finn’s opinion, but they were cut high on her leg, giving him a welcome view of her thighs. They had both discarded their footwear at the front door.
He ran his hands up her arms, not knowing if the tingling began with him and he passed it on to her, or the other way around. It didn’t matter. What mattered was the effect they had on each other. Had always had on each other. Would have on each other forever. He’d waited for it to ease, to lighten. But the fire for Liz only grew more intense.
He reached to her back, to undo the clasp of her bra. Her hands came up, covering herself just as he undid the hooks and began to brush the straps from her shoulders.
“Finn,” she began, hesitation in her voice.
“Ssshh. Let me.” He took her hands in his, feeling the round globes beneath and tried to gently pry her fingers loose.
“Let’s lay down,” she said.
“No. I want you here,
in front of the mirror.” He gave her hands another tug and she allowed him to take the bra away from her.
No longer having the support of the sturdy bra, her heavy breasts hung low and full. He heard her groan, but ignored it, his stare not leaving the heaving flesh, the puckered aureoles, the blushed, hardening nipples.
“God, you have unbelievable tits, Liz,” he murmured into her neck as his hands reached for them.
She beat him there, cupping them herself. “Yeah, unbelievable that they’re down here, when they should be up here,” she said, lifting them to the higher position they’d occupied in her youth.
He couldn’t help but chuckle, but then brushed her hands away and took the mounds into his own hands, letting them lower to their natural position. He began to caress the flesh, feeling it tighten and firm under his gentle touch. His thumbs brushed across her nipples, watching in the mirror as they visibly tightened. “No, they’re right where they’re supposed to be. In my hands.” It was corny as hell, but he meant it. “They’re big and full and real…”
“And thirty-some years old,” she added.
“Right. They’re the breasts of a woman, Liz. And they’re incredible.” He pushed her breasts together. “God, how I want to bury myself in them. Bury my mouth. Bury my face. Bury my cock.” He allowed his eyes to leave the image of his hands on her and found her eyes in the mirror. She lowered her warm eyes, not able to watch him, or not able to hear his blunt words, he wasn’t sure which. It didn’t matter, he’d give her more of both.
He kissed her neck, tracing his tongue back and forth across her pulse point. Sucking on her tender flesh until he’d marked her. Childish, he knew, but he liked the idea of Liz wearing his brand.
He didn’t want to ever leave her breasts. Could play with them for hours, which he had on one occasion in the barn. This was better. It had been dark then, and seeing Liz’s flesh blush, watching the arousal on her face, not only feeling but watching the tight puckering, was intoxicating. He raised a hand to her lips directing her to take his fingers in her warm, wet mouth, fully saturating them. She did, and he returned to her nipples, his slick fingers now playing a tantalizing push, pull and pinch game.