I walk past her to fill the tub. This is the first time she’s been in my home, and I haven’t given her the tour yet. I was too eager to get her in my bed.
The tub is tucked behind a curtain, in its own alcove. I start the water, add some oil, light a few candles, and then walk back to the bedroom to find London sitting on the bed, naked from the waist up, waiting for me. She’s pulled her hair into a messy knot on the top of her head.
She’s fucking breathtaking.
“Ready for me?” she asks.
“Always.” I hold my hand out to her and lead her into the bathroom, and she gasps.
“Holy shit, Finn.”
“What? What’s wrong?”
“This is your bathtub?” She immediately covers herself, but I wrap my arms around her and hug her close.
“No one can see you.”
“It’s floor-to-ceiling windows and it’s dark outside.”
“They’re privacy windows. Trust me, I’m not sharing this amazing body with anyone.” I kiss her forehead and lead her to the bathtub.
“This tub is ridiculous. It’s like a hammock.”
She’s right. It’s supported on either side by a wall, with the spigot also coming out of the wall. But there is nothing beneath the tub except for tile.
“How is it staying off the ground? Doesn’t the water make it heavy?”
“Well, I don’t have a degree in engineering or physics, but I can assure you that it’s sound.” She climbs inside and sighs in happiness as she leans back, the water covering her.
“Are you really going to make me take a bath in this beauty by myself? This is a two-person bath.”
“If I’m in there with you, I can’t order dinner.”
“Later.” She smiles up at me, and I know I can’t resist her. I climb in with her and shut the water off before it flows over the sides. She scoots so her back is resting against my chest and leans her head back. “See? This is nice.”
“Very nice,” I agree, reaching for the sponge and soap. “I’m going to wash you.”
“That sounds lovely.”
I brush the sponge over her breasts and her stomach, then follow the path again.
“I should apologize,” she says, making me pause. “I did sound like a child this afternoon, and it was ridiculous. So I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted,” I reply, and kiss her temple.
“I was just so frustrated.”
“Okay, talk to me. Tell me why.”
She sighs, as if the weight of the world is on her shoulders, and I want nothing more than to ease that burden.
“I come from a wealthy family, Finn. My father, while ensuring that I have a work ethic, indulged me quite a lot while I was growing up. I didn’t want for much, and I’m not complaining about that.
“When I moved to New York, I saw so many of my peers struggle to make ends meet while pursuing their dreams. They’d eat nothing but ramen and scrambled eggs because the rent is so high here.
“I never had that worry. Back when I wasn’t making quite enough money to fully support myself, my dad helped me out. I’ve never had to wonder how I’d balance a budget or worry about the electricity being shut off. I’m a lucky woman.
“However, with that security came strings. He was a good man who loved me and wanted to help me, but because of the help he felt entitled to tell me how to live my life. I was never allowed to make my own life decisions because he held the strings.
“I do work very hard. I know that I’ve inherited a lot of money, but I already had my own money because of that hard work. I’ve starved myself, and put my body through more than most people can even imagine, just so I would land roles.”
She looks up at me.
“As a sidebar, I’d like to clarify that I’ve never slept with anyone for a role. I won’t do that.”
“Understood.”
No, she wouldn’t do that.
“I haven’t had to ask my dad for help in more than a decade, and that’s unusual for an artist living in Manhattan. I’m proud of it. So, I enjoy buying myself beautiful things. I don’t need you to buy them for me, and I don’t need any of the strings that might come along with them.”
“Of course not,” I reply with a frown. “I know that you can buy it for yourself, but I want to buy it for you.”
“You’re not hearing me,” she says, and pulls away, turning to face me in the tub. “That’s why I was so frustrated. You’re not listening to me.”
“You’re saying you don’t want me to buy you presents. But a few weeks ago you said you enjoy presents.”
“Of course I do, but this isn’t the same thing, Finn. I don’t want you to follow me down Fifth Avenue and scoop up everything I point to just because I say I like it. It makes me uncomfortable, and if that’s how it’s going to be, I won’t ask you to go with me anymore. I’ll go alone.”
“I’m so confused,” I mutter, and rub my wet hands over my face. “No woman I’ve ever been with would resist me buying them expensive things.”
“Then you’re either dating the wrong women, or I’m not the woman for you, because that’s not what I want,” she says, shaking her head adamantly. “If you were to surprise me once in a while with something that we’d seen together that I hadn’t already bought, I would think that’s sweet. Thoughtful.”
“Okay.”
“But that’s really all I need from you, Finn. When it comes to gifts, anyway. You already do so much for me.”
“And I feel like I don’t do enough,” I reply honestly. “I enjoy buying you things. Not because you can’t do it yourself, but because I just like it. I don’t know if I can change that.”
“I guess we’ll just have to play it by ear, but what this really boils down to is, I need you to hear me. I know you’re not a mind reader, so I’ll do my best to be vocal with you when it comes to how I feel. But I need you to meet me halfway and listen.”
“That’s helpful.” I smile and lean in to kiss her. “I’m not going to apologize for smacking your ass. You deserved it.”
“I can live with that.”
“I will apologize for not listening.”
“Thank you.”
“We’re learning each other, sweetheart. It’s just going to take time.”
“I know.” She turns back to lean against me. “And we have all the time in the world.”
Chapter Ten
~London~
It’s two weeks later, and we’re on our way to dinner. Finn is driving this evening, and I’m holding on to my new black leather Chanel bag.
That I bought myself, thank you very much.
“So, we’re going to dinner with Carter?” I ask, and watch in awe as Finn easily maneuvers his way through traffic. I’ve never been brave enough to drive in the city.
“Yes, and his date.”
“Who’s his date?”
“I have no idea,” he replies with a laugh. “He called me yesterday and said that he has a first date with a nice woman, but he’s not ready to go it alone yet, so I offered to double with him.”
“So no one really knows her.” I frown. “What if she’s horrible?”
“If he asked her out, she’s not horrible,” Finn says with a laugh.
“True. Okay, well, this should be fun. How much has he dated since your sister died?”
“I believe this is the first,” he says.
“Oh, wow.” I swallow hard and watch the cars as they go by. “It must be hard to start all over.”
“Especially when you have a child,” Finn agrees. “I don’t think Gabby was ready either.”
“Do you think she is now?”
“I doubt it,” he says with a shrug. “But what’s he supposed to do? Be alone forever?”
“No. It’s a tough place to be in.”
Finn exits off the freeway and finds the restaurant, leaves his Mercedes with the valet, and escorts me inside.
Carter and his date are already waiting for us, and the look of
sheer terror and relief when he sees us is slightly humorous.
“Hey,” he says as he stands and shakes Finn’s hand. “You must be London.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I reply, and am surprised to be folded in a big hug. “The Cavanaugh family is a bunch of huggers.”
“Guilty,” Carter says, and smiles down at me. “Even if my last name is Shaw, the hugging has rubbed off on me.”
I turn to see a pretty, petite blonde smiling at us. Her makeup is impeccable, her nails recently done, and she is also carrying a Chanel handbag.
We’re going to have plenty to talk about.
“I’m London,” I say, holding out my hand.
“Zoe,” she replies with a smile, shaking both Finn’s hand and mine. We all sit, and I don’t give the awkward silence a chance to settle in.
“So, Carter, how did you and Zoe meet?”
“At a coffee shop,” she says before he can. “We go to the same one every morning, around the same time. I finally got the nerve up to talk to him about a week ago.”
“That’s so fun,” I reply with a smile. “I don’t think I know anyone who’s met that way.”
Zoe smiles warmly and rubs Carter’s arm, which seems to make him uncomfortable. He takes a sip of his water.
Carter is definitely not ready for this, the poor guy. And I feel badly for Zoe because she seems to be really into him.
Ugh.
Finn lays his hand on my thigh under the table and gives it a gentle squeeze. I’m not sure if he’s thanking me for spearheading the conversation, but I do my best to keep it going.
“And what do you do, Zoe?”
“I’m a financial adviser,” she says. “I do math all day long.”
“Well, bless you, because math makes me break out in hives.”
“Someone has to do it,” Finn says with a smile, and easily steers the conversation to investments and stocks, which I try to keep up with, but my experience with the subject is limited.
Carter also participates and starts to loosen up, and at one point, actually puts his hand on Zoe’s shoulder, which I take as a good sign.
“How do you and Finn know each other, Carter?” Zoe asks, and takes a bite of her salad.
“Oh,” Carter says, surprised. He’s blinking, looking to Finn for help.
“Carter and I are brothers-in-law,” Finn replies smoothly. “He was married to my late sister.”
“I see.”
And just like that, Zoe completely shuts down. I can almost see the brick walls being constructed around her, and her eyes have gone cool.
She sets her napkin on the table and stands. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to visit the restroom.”
She walks away, and the guys both look around, dumbfounded.
“What did I say?” Finn asks.
“It’s okay. I’ll go talk to her.” I pat Finn’s arm and then follow Zoe into the women’s restroom. We’re the only two in there when I arrive, and Zoe is standing at the sink, leaning on the countertop, her head bowed.
“I take it Carter hadn’t gotten around to telling you that he’d been married before.”
She looks up at me with sad eyes. “No. He hadn’t.”
“And it looks like that’s a problem for you.”
She sighs and turns, resting her hips on the countertop now, and crosses her arms over her chest.
“Did he tell you he has a daughter?”
“Yes.”
At least he wasn’t a douchebag.
“And I don’t mean to sound petty,” Zoe says, shaking her head. “But I can’t compete with a ghost, London. I can accept a child, and if he were divorced, well, it happens all the time.
“But a widower? That’s tough because I don’t want to feel like I’m being compared to someone who isn’t here anymore. And if the way he’s acting is any indication, I don’t think he’s dated much, which only makes it worse.”
“I get it,” I reply with a nod. “I only just met Carter tonight, so I don’t know him, but Finn has always had great things to say about him.”
“He seems like a nice guy,” Zoe agrees. “That’s what sucks so badly. Do you know how hard it is to meet a nice guy in this city?”
“You’re preaching to the choir, sister. And for the record, I didn’t meet Finn here, I technically met him on Martha’s Vineyard.”
“Maybe I should move there,” she says with a sigh. “Should I just go home?”
“No.” I shake my head adamantly and pat her arm. “You’re here, and we’re nice people. Enjoy your dinner and the conversation, knowing that you don’t want anything more than being friendly acquaintances with Carter. That’s totally allowed.”
“You’re right.” She nods and checks her hair in the mirror. “Let’s go back out there.”
“Sorry,” I say when we get back to the table. “We got caught up talking about girl stuff. How is Gabby, Carter?”
He smiles, and relaxes a bit more. “She’s doing really well, thanks. She talks about you all the time.”
“She’s a sweet girl.”
Carter coughs, almost choking on his wine.
“Don’t tell me you don’t think she’s sweet.”
“She’s always been sweet,” he confirms, and looks to Finn for help.
“She’s just been a handful lately,” Finn adds.
“Well, I enjoyed her. I’d like to see her again.”
Our entrées are delivered, and the rest of dinner seems to be easier. Maybe it’s because Zoe has decided that Carter isn’t the man for her, I don’t know. But the atmosphere is lighter.
After dessert has come and gone, and I’m stuffed to the gills, Finn’s phone rings.
“It’s Quinn,” he says to Carter, who just shrugs. “This is Finn.”
He listens for a moment, his eyes narrowing, and I have a very bad feeling.
“Which hospital? Uh-huh. Carter and I just finished dinner. We’re not far from there. Yeah, we’re on our way.”
He hangs up and tucks his phone away, then waves our waitress down.
“What’s going on?” Carter asks.
“Mom’s in the hospital,” Finn says, his voice cold steel.
“What happened?” I ask.
“Quinn didn’t give me any specifics, just said we need to get there. I don’t know what’s happening.”
“I’ll take Zoe home and meet you there,” Carter says, but Zoe shakes her head no.
“I’ll grab a cab, Carter.” Carter frowns, but Zoe insists. “Really, it’s okay. You should go be with your family.”
“You’re absolutely sure?”
“Yes.” She smiles at all of us. “I’m sorry for the way it’s ending, but I had a nice evening.”
We wait to make sure Zoe is safely in a cab before we leave for the hospital.
“I want to know what’s going on,” Carter grumbles as he walks to his car.
“Me too,” Finn says grimly.
I hate the smell of hospitals. Disinfectant that seems to cling to my nostrils. They all smell the same, including this one. We’re walking down a long hallway, after a receptionist gave us Maggie’s room number.
Carter and Finn are walking like two men on a mission, and I have to practically jog to keep up with them. Their faces are fierce.
I definitely wouldn’t want to go up against them in a courtroom.
“I’m telling you, I’m perfectly fine,” we hear Maggie yell down the hallway, and I glance up in time to see Finn’s lips twitch with humor.
“She’s well enough to yell,” Carter says, relief in his voice.
We get to the doorway, and both men hurry in. There’s a third man, dressed in an old rock concert T-shirt and worn jeans, sitting in a chair across the room from her.
He looks just like Finn.
I hang back near the door and watch the scene before me. All three men are at the older woman’s bedside, and even in her hospital gown, she’s clinging on to her handbag, her face in a scowl.
&nb
sp; “What’s going on, Mom?” Finn asks as he takes her hand in his.
“That fool,” she begins, pointing to Quinn, “called the ambulance for me.”
“Back up,” Carter says. “Why did he call the ambulance?”
“Because she passed out,” Quinn replies. “She went into the restroom and passed out, fell over, hit her head.”
“Mom?” Finn asks.
“I had a headache,” she says.
“You could have had a stroke,” Quinn says. “She called me, all disoriented, and told me she fell. So naturally I called 911 and hauled ass to her house.”
“Watch your language,” Maggie snaps. “Yes, I have a headache. And its name is Quinn, you little shit.”
“Did you have a stroke?” Carter asks.
“No,” she says.
“Maybe,” Quinn interrupts. “The tests aren’t back yet.”
“She doesn’t seem to have paralysis, slurred speech, or any of the other warning signs,” Finn says.
“It could have been a mild stroke,” Quinn insists, and then notices me standing here. “Who’s this?”
“I’m London,” I reply. “Sorry, I was with these two when you called.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Maggie says, and smiles at me. “I see one of my boys is doing something right. Quinn, take notes.”
“Oh, for fucksake,” Quinn mutters.
“I said watch your mouth. Hello, London. It’s good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you too, but I wish it wasn’t in a hospital.”
“Quinn’s fault,” she says again. “And not only did he call the ambulance, they came barreling down my street with the lights and sirens going. How am I supposed to explain that to the neighbors? It’s humiliating, that’s what it is.”
“No, it isn’t,” Carter says gently. “We need to make sure that you’re okay. You’re the only one like you that we have.”
“Although, Quinn is a bit paranoid,” Finn concedes.
“Making sure my mother didn’t have a stroke is paranoid?” Quinn demands. “Besides, I need to be on top of it. People in this family have a habit of not telling us all the full story when it comes to medical issues.”
There’s an awkward silence, and I make a mental note to ask Finn what Quinn meant later.
“There’s no need to go over that again,” Maggie says, her voice softer now. “What’s done is done, and we can’t change it. But you can’t coddle me.”
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