Really? To return my shirt.
He reached out his hand to take it from her. "Thanks."
Instead of handing it back to him, she clutched it to her chest. "Can I come in? It's really chilly out here."
He eyed her up and down. Despite the dark circles under her pink, puffy eyes and her wild red hair that looked even more wild than usual, she was completely stunning. And sexy.
Stop. You can't be what she wants.
True. But what he wanted now, seeing her again, was to pull her into his arms and carry her upstairs to his bed. He hadn't been able to put their night together out of his mind all week. Nor had he been able to forget about how awesome it felt to wake up with her lying in his bed the next morning.
Seeing her again, he had to fight the urge to wrap his arms around her and never let go again. Goddamn, he'd missed her more than he'd realized in the time she'd been gone.
He stepped aside and motioned for her to come in. When she did, he closed the door behind her, trapping in the warmth of the house. She wasn't kidding about how cold it had gotten. In the last few weeks the temperature, especially at night, had plummeted.
"The fireplace is lit if you want to warm up a bit." He walked into the living room and picked up his beer, taking a huge swig of it to finish it off. "I'm going to grab another beer. Want one?"
"I can't. I'm such a lightweight, I'd have to spend the night here if I had a beer." She laughed, but it didn't sound happy. It sounded uncomfortable. When her gaze darted to the stairs and back, he could guess why. Maybe she had trouble forgetting their incredible night together, too.
"I'll make coffee then. It'll take a minute. Make yourself at home—" his voice fell off with the last word. Such a common saying for most people, but not for them. Not when she'd told him that his home wasn't good enough for her. He opened his mouth to correct himself but didn't.
Screw it.
She should feel uncomfortable for the things she'd said. Sure, his house wasn't the newest or the biggest, but it was warm and comfortable. And he loved it. He wanted to spend his time with someone who would love being here as much as he did and unfortunately, that wasn't Rebecca.
He fled to the kitchen, leaving Rebecca standing by the fireplace biting her lip. Goddamn, he loved those lips of hers. He'd managed to at least dampen the details of their time together in his mind when she'd been a phone call away. But now that she was here in the flesh and not just his overactive imagination, all of her amazing details flooded his mind.
Good thing he had the excuse of making coffee, so he could get himself together enough to talk to her. The shock of her being here again hit him like a truck. He forced all thoughts of her in his bed from his mind as he began the mindless task of making coffee. But since he had one of those one-cup instant brewing machines, the task only took a whopping two minutes.
Shit.
He wasn't ready to go back in there and face her again. How would he be strong enough to let her walk out his door again now that he had her here… where his heart told him she belonged? How could he let her leave, knowing his life sucked without her? Damn it. He never should have kicked her out that day to begin with. He'd been so stupid to let a girl like her go so easily. He should have fought for her. But would it have made any difference?
He leaned on the counter, staring at the two cups of steaming coffee in mismatched mugs. This was his life—mismatched mugs, a quaint home in a peaceful neighborhood, and another evening spent in front of a fireplace, instead of at a charity gala.
This was a life she didn't want.
Standing tall, he forced his lungs to fill with a deep breath. He had to let her go because she would never be happy here with him. He loved her too much to make her sacrifice the things most important to her.
Holy shit.
He loved her.
He hadn't seen that coming.
* * * *
Rebecca sat on the couch, her legs tucked under her now that she'd slipped out of her boots. She'd thrown her coat across the arm of the chair in the corner, so she could feel the heat from the fireplace on her skin. The fire warmed her on the surface but did little to take away the chill of nervousness in her stomach.
Finn walked into the room and almost stumbled when he saw her sitting on his couch. Perhaps she'd made herself more comfortable than he'd meant. She shifted uncomfortably and thought about moving, but didn't. She wanted to sit with Finn on the couch again like she had last time. Last time had led to a good talk and a great time in his bed. She hoped this spot was her lucky charm.
That wasn't too much to hope for, was it?
He handed her a cup of coffee and took a seat beside her on the couch. Not as close as he'd sat to her last time, but she'd take it. At least he was within touching distance. And hopefully, if things went the way she wanted them to, she'd be touching him again sooner rather than later.
As she took a sip of her coffee, she watched his gaze flicker down to his shirt, which lay across her lap. She knew she should give it back to him now since that's what she'd been invited in to do. But if she did, then she'd have no excuse to stay longer and talk.
And she wasn't quite ready to part with it yet, either.
The truth was she'd slept in his shirt every night since she'd worn it home after their fight. When she put it on at night and climbed into bed, she could almost imagine him lying there with her. His scent had filled her senses as she'd drifted into a fitful sleep, and every morning it was his cologne she smelled first thing.
But the shirt was merely an excuse to get in the door. Now the real trick would be how to convince him to let her stay.
"I'm sure you probably want me to give you your shirt back now, right?" she asked, glancing up to find him staring at her. "I'll give it back to you, on one condition—"
"You can keep it," he said before she had time to finish her sentence.
Her chest constricted. She should have known better. He didn't care about his stupid shirt, and he certainly didn't care about anything she had to say. And she couldn't blame him.
She'd been so awful to him. No wonder he wasn't interested in talking to her again. She nodded. What could she even say back to that? Thanks for the shirt?
Tears pooled in her eyes. Damn it. She'd come here to tell him she was sorry and, at the very least, she was still going to. He had to know how she felt and then if she had to leave with her tail between her legs like a dog that'd been swatted with a rolled up newspaper, then so be it.
"I'm not really here because of the shirt," she started, her voice trembling.
"I kind of guessed that already." His tone wasn't mocking or mean. He was well within his right, but it made her feel a little better that he chose not to speak to her in a condescending way.
"I'm sorry, Finn. I'm so sorry for the way I acted and the things I said to you."
"Thanks."
He wasn't going to make this easy, was he?
"I was caught off guard, and I wasn't thinking clearly."
"Yes, you were. You said exactly what was on your mind. You knew exactly what you were saying." He shifted on the couch to face her more. "I appreciate you're sorry about hurting me, but your apology doesn't change the way you feel about me or my way of life. So I don't really know why you had to come all the way here to tell me this."
A tear streaked down her cheek, but she quickly brushed it away. She didn't want Finn to feel sorry for her or worse, feel any responsibility for her tears. She'd made her bed, now she'd have to lie in it. Alone.
Well, if she was going to lie there alone, she was damn well going to do that having told him how she felt. She wouldn't let herself wonder what might have been for the rest of her life. Nope. Finn would listen to her feelings now, while she had the chance to tell him, and then she'd go home and crawl into her shell of an apartment until she figured out a way to get out of the mess she'd put herself in.
"You're right. An apology doesn't change the past. But I still have to try and change the fu
ture."
"What are you talking about?"
"I've been so focused on trying to find a way to keep the life I've been used to living that I was too busy to realize my life in the Meadow sucked. The Meadow is all I've ever known. I thought it was all I ever wanted to know." She wiped another tear away as it escaped.
"But then I met you. You shook up my whole world. My head kept telling me not to get involved with you since I knew you weren't from the Meadow, and you couldn't give me the things I thought I wanted. But then you kept turning up in my diner, and my heart started overruling my head."
"I like the pie," he said quietly, his lip curling up slightly at the corner. Almost a smile, but not quite.
"You said you liked the scenery." She smirked, remembering his excuse one time when he'd come to visit her at the diner.
He brushed her hair back from her face, staring at her for a few heartbeats. "I like both things. I also happen to like the waitresses there. Well, one waitress really. She's got this crazy red hair and an unbelievable attitude to go with it."
"Leave my hair out of this, or you'll really get a fight."
"You don't care about the attitude comment? Just the hair."
"I'm sensitive about my hair."
"Okay then." He laughed, a smile lighting his face for the first time that night. "I promise I'll try not to insult your sensitive hair again."
She loved seeing him smile, and it hurt to know this next thing was probably going to send that smile into hiding again. But she had to get it out there now, or else she'd always be worried this moment would come back to bite her in the ass someday.
"I need to tell you something else because leaving out little details of my life in the Meadow didn't work out so well for me up until now."
"Your boyfriend isn't exactly a little detail."
Rebecca ignored the tone in his voice and the accusation that went along with it. "You're not going to like what I have to say. But I have to tell you anyway."
"Sounds fun for me."
"When I left here the other day, I really thought we were over. I didn't see how things could work out between us when I would have to give up everything I wanted… for you."
"Ouch. Thanks for bringing up my shortcomings again."
"Let me finish," she said, taking a shaky breath. "So I went home and tried really hard to put you out of my mind. I tried to move on. I forced myself to ignore the little voice in my head telling me to come back to you, and I went about my life, trying to get what I thought I wanted. And earlier tonight I got it."
She chanced a peek at Finn and hated the expression she saw. Hated the message in his body language as he leaned away from her. A pit of anxiety grew in her stomach. It would be so much easier not to tell him this, but she knew that would be lying by omission again. If she really wanted a chance at a life with him, she had to come clean about everything.
"What happened earlier tonight, Rebecca?"
Hearing him use her full name instead of his nickname for her hurt more than she expected. "I went to the gala with Reid."
"Thanks for sharing. I hope you had a great time in your diamond necklace."
"There's more."
He sighed. And looked up at the ceiling, rubbing his hands across his face as if doing so could make her and this conversation disappear. "What else?"
"Tonight, after the gala, he invited me back to his house."
Finn groaned loudly and fidgeted on the couch looking increasingly more uncomfortable. "Why are you telling me this? I don't want to hear about your night with the man who's actually good enough for you."
"He asked me to marry him."
Finn stared at her. Hurt, betrayal, anger, sadness—all of it playing in his expression at once. He glanced to her hands as she wrung them together in her lap. "And?"
She rubbed her thumb across her left ring finger where Reid's ring had been earlier. "I said no."
"So that's supposed to make this confession okay? You were with someone else while you were with me long enough he proposed to you?" He yelled, actually yelled. "Were you sleeping with him after these dates, too?"
"No, of course not. I only went out for dinner with him."
"Oh, well, that makes it all okay then. Wow, he must have fallen for you faster than I did if he was already asking you to marry him."
"No, it's not like that. We have a history together. We dated in high school before he graduated and left for college."
"Great. Thanks for sharing. Want to tell me about how you went to prom together and how you made out on the dance floor, too? Because I'd love to hear that shit."
"I wanted to explain how he could have feelings for me so quickly."
"You really know how to make me feel good about this situation."
"The point is," she said, her voice rising to match his, "I said no. Did you hear that part? He offered me everything I wanted—the house, the lifestyle, the friends I know and love—everything… and I said no."
Hurt flashed in his eyes. "Why did you say no? Wasn't his house big enough? Wasn't he going to buy you a nice enough car? Or maybe his job wasn't to your specifications."
"Because I love you, not him." Her words hung in the air while she tried to catch her breath around the tears she couldn't stop. The pain of his words stung like a slap across the face. And she deserved the pain.
"You what?" he asked, his voice soft, quiet.
"I said no because even though he could offer me all the luxury in life I could ever want, he couldn't offer me the one thing I didn't realize I'd never be happy without. The minute he put that ring on my finger, I knew I would never feel for him the way I feel for you. I would never be able to give my heart to him because I'd already given it to you. He could give me all the luxury in the world, but I would never love him.
"And it doesn't matter anymore if I live in the Meadow, or if I drive a fancy car, or if I have to work my whole life at the diner. The only thing that matters to me now is that I get to be with the man I love. I want to be with you, Finn. Forever."
"You love me?" The disbelief in his voice overrode any other emotion.
She nodded. If she tried to speak again, her voice would break over the sob lingering in her throat. Or she'd say something stupid and piss him off again. Neither would help her right now.
He pulled her up to her feet and into his arms, holding her so close she could practically feel every inch of him. She certainly hoped things were leading to feeling every inch of him again soon. Preferably in the bedroom.
But first he had to want her back, too. Maybe he wouldn't love her the way she already knew she loved him, and that was okay. She didn't expect him to fall for her so quickly, not after what she'd done… what she'd said.
As long as he took her back, as long as he gave her another chance, it would be good enough for her.
He would be good enough for her. Always.
She bit her lower lip and held her breath waiting for him to speak. The fact she was in his arms and not on his doorstep already had to be a good sign. Didn't it?
He threaded his fingers in her hair. "This wild and crazy hair of yours, those beautiful, fire-filled eyes, this pouty bottom lip you can't help but nibble on… I missed all of it when you walked out my front door and out of my life. I had an idea of how much you meant to me after the accident when I thought I'd lost you. But when you left me after our night together, my world shattered."
Finn brushed his thumb across her bitten bottom lip as if he hoped to nibble on it himself soon.
"I love you too, Becca. Stay with me tonight—stay with me always."
Epilogue
Rebecca finished rinsing the cherry tomatoes in the colander in the sink then carefully sliced each one in half, before arranging them on top of the salad. The chatter of voices filtering in through the sliding glass door leading to the backyard brought a smile to her face and contentment to her heart.
She grabbed the big bowl of salad and headed out to the yard. Out back, Finn
and his brothers stood around the grill with beers in hand. At the patio set, Scarlett and Eliza watched the boys while pretending to be doing anything but watching. They might be fooling the boys, but their quick glances and smiles behind their glasses of sangria were never going to fool Rebecca.
Seeing her friends here made her chest feel as if it might burst with happiness. The only one missing was her father, who was determined no barbecue would stand in the way of his weekly canasta night with the ladies in his condo building. Turned out his condo was actually a lot better than Rebecca realized. It had all the amenities he wanted and a few extra too—namely Iris, Ruthann, and Margo. And now that Rebecca lived with Finn, she'd been able to subsidize her father's housing, finally giving back a little of what he'd given her over the years.
Scarlett and Eliza had proven their friendship would withstand all, but the same couldn't be said for Bryn. A sadness still simmered under the surface whenever she thought about Bryn, and the disgust on Bryn's face when Rebecca had told her that not only was she moving out of the Meadow to live with Finn, but that she planned to continue working at the diner as a waitress.
Bryn's unfriending had been instantaneous and thorough.
As was the pain that filled Rebecca when she realized how many years she'd wasted on their fictitious friendship. Some friendships weren't meant to be.
After leaving the Meadow, Rebecca vowed to surround herself with positive things and leave behind the toxic things in her life—Bryn and financial debt. She'd put Bryn out of her mind as much as she could already, and now Rebecca was focused on paying off every ounce of debt she'd accumulated. Every tip from her customers at the diner got her one step closer.
She didn't want to bring anything negative from her past into this new chance at a fresh start with Finn. The life with Finn she loved more every day.
The smell of the first barbecue of the spring was a welcome scent after the long winter months. Rebecca looked forward to many more nights spent in her new backyard with her good friends and a new family she never expected to have.
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