Easy enough.
She dried her hands on a nearby dish towel and headed through the kitchen and down the hall toward the foyer. She should have known Finn immediately. Jack didn’t have many photos on display, but there were enough of a young Finn, his sister, Ella, and Jack’s late wife, Katie, to recognize the man the boy had grown into.
She’d been caught off guard. That never would have happened before life in Starlight turned her soft and trusting. Bouncing in and out of foster care as a kid, Kaitlin had learned always to be on the alert for threats.
Although it made no sense, every instinct for danger she had gave off warning lights when she thought about Finn.
Plastering on a bright smile, she opened the door.
For a moment, he appeared nonplussed before his features tightened into a flat mask. “Playing lady of the manor?” he asked with that irritating brow lift.
She let her smile fade. If Jack’s son didn’t want to play nice, why should she? “Don’t look shocked. He told you I was helping with dinner.”
“I just wonder what else you’re helping with,” he said as he followed her through the house. “Or maybe ‘helping yourself to’ is more accurate.”
She spun on her heel so fast he practically plowed into her. This close, she could see the gray flecks in his blue eyes and feel the heat coming off him. He’d changed into a polo shirt and faded jeans, but the casual dress did nothing to make him less intimidating.
Kaitlin hated being intimidated.
“What does that mean?” she demanded.
“I think you know.”
“You’re wrong.” Wrong on so many levels, she wanted to add. Her track record with morals and good judgment was spotty at best, but she’d changed since coming to Starlight. Jack had given her a chance, and she’d never take advantage of that, no matter what vague insinuations his son made.
“What the hell’s going on here?”
She turned at the sound of Jack’s booming voice.
“Your assistant and I are getting to know each other,” Finn answered, and she heard a thread of temper lacing his tone.
She glanced over her shoulder. “Tell me you didn’t use air quotes.”
He shot her a quelling glare. “Do I look like I need hand gestures to convey my distaste?”
“You look like you need a swift kick in the back end,” Jack called. “Both of you get in the kitchen.”
“There’s the dad I remember,” Finn said under his breath as he stalked after her.
“You obviously bring out the best in him,” she shot back, then pressed her lips together. Why was she engaging in this verbal sparring with Finn? She’d have better luck waving a stick at an angry mountain lion.
“I asked Kaitlin to make your mother’s shepherd’s pie recipe,” Jack announced as they entered the kitchen. “We’ll eat and then talk.”
“I’m not really hungry,” Finn muttered.
“You were always hungry,” Jack countered. “It’s been a lot of years since you’ve been in the house, but I can’t imagine that’s changed.”
She heard something that sounded like a stomach growling, and Jack let out a satisfied chuckle. “There’s a bottle of wine on the dining room table,” he told Finn. “You open it while Kaitlin finishes with the food. I’ll be right back.”
She glanced toward Jack, but he waved off her obvious concern. “I’m fine. Just need to check something in my office.”
Kaitlin grabbed two pot holders from the counter and moved toward the stove. Maybe she should have refused to make a dish that had been one of Finn’s mother’s signatures. Honestly, she hadn’t thought about Finn’s reaction. She simply liked cooking in the homey kitchen and using the recipes that Katie Samuelson had written on index cards in her precise cursive.
Carrying the casserole into the dining room, she purposely avoided eye contact with Finn. She set the dish on the trivet she’d placed on the table and turned back toward the kitchen to retrieve the side dishes.
“There are three places set,” Finn announced from the head of the table, his voice a low growl.
“Jack invited me to stay for dinner.”
“You called him Mr. Samuelson at the bank earlier today.”
“What’s your point?” Finn’s attitude caused every one of her hackles to rise.
“Leave the girl alone,” Jack said as he entered the dining room from the far door.
Finn popped the cork on the wine. “I think it’s time she left you alone.”
Kaitlin felt a blush stain her cheeks. She knew there were questions about the nature of her relationship with Jack but mainly ignored the gossip. It bothered her that Finn had so quickly heard the rumors, even if most of what was said wasn’t true.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jack said with a shake of his head.
“Why don’t you fill me in?”
As Finn poured the wine, Kaitlin met Jack’s gaze across the table. For a moment he let down his guard, and she saw both fear and frustration in his tired eyes. She gave him a small smile and nodded, as if her opinion of how he should handle this conversation would matter.
His mouth thinned as he looked away, and she sighed. If Jack didn’t tell Finn the whole truth of his situation, it would only cause more trouble for all of them.
She moved to the kitchen and picked up the salad bowl and basket of bread still sitting on the counter. When she returned, both Jack and Finn stood next to their chairs, clearly waiting for her to sit first. The reminder that both of these men were gentlemen despite the tension between them was like a slap in the face.
Kaitlin didn’t belong here, even if Jack wanted her to. “I’m going to the guesthouse,” she announced.
“We haven’t even started dinner,” Jack told her. “You need to eat after all the time it took to make the food.”
“Wait.” Finn held up a hand. “You live here?”
“Don’t go there,” she warned.
“I’ll go wherever I want,” he shot back.
Kaitlin opened her mouth to deliver a snappy retort, but Jack’s howling laughter stopped her. Finn seemed just as surprised at the sound, and they both turned to the older man.
“I remember all the times you and Ella squabbled over the dinner table,” he said, swiping a hand across his cheek. “It used to annoy me to no end. I’d get home after a long day at the bank, and there was no peace and quiet to be found.”
“Kaitlin isn’t my sister,” Finn ground out.
No doubt, Kaitlin thought to herself. As much of a pompous jerk as she found Finn to be, her awareness of him was anything but brotherly.
“I still can’t believe I miss the arguing,” Jack said, more to himself than either of them. “Kaitlin, sit down. Let’s have a civil dinner.”
Jack had given her a chance to make a new life in Starlight, and she owed him her loyalty but also knew he was using her as a buffer. “Not tonight,” she told him gently. “You two have some catching up to do. I’ll only get in the way.”
“Amen,” Finn said at the same time Jack answered, “You won’t.”
“I’ll see you in the morning,” she told her boss, doing her best to ignore the weight of Finn’s stare. Jack looked like he wanted to argue but finally nodded, and Kaitlin walked away, hoping the two men could manage to get through the meal without killing each other.
Chapter Three
The knock came at close to midnight, according to the clock on her nightstand.
Kaitlin struggled to wake, then shot up in bed, her first thought that something had happened to Jack.
The guesthouse was more of a tiny apartment, with a cozy living area on one side and a small bedroom situated off the kitchen. She stumbled to the floor, the sheet still wrapped around her legs.
“I’m coming,” she shouted, flipping on a light befor
e hurrying across the wide-plank floor and—ouch—stubbing her toe on an uneven strip of oak.
When she wrenched open the door, Finn stood on the other side, tall and brooding and staring at her like she’d just made her escape from some kind of circus sideshow.
“Is your dad okay?” she whispered, worry clawing at her chest. She and Jack had been through some rough nights together, and although she knew he was healthy now, those times were difficult not to revisit.
“My guess is he’s sleeping,” Finn told her with a scowl. “Sorry I woke you.”
She took a deep breath to calm herself and studied him, standing on the porch with only moonlight to reveal his handsome features. She’d been sleeping fitfully, unwelcome visions of the man standing at her door causing her to toss and turn. “I doubt that,” she murmured. “People don’t normally knock on someone’s door in the middle of the night without the intent to wake them.”
“True,” he agreed with a little half smile that suddenly reminded her she was standing in front of him in pajama shorts and a loose tank top with no bra.
As if reading her mind, his gaze trailed down the front of her, then quickly back to her face. A faint hint of pink tinged his cheeks. Was Finn Samuelson blushing? A strangled giggle escaped her lips at the thought.
“Can I come in?” he asked, a husky note to his voice that had goose bumps erupting along her skin.
Oh, yes, her body squealed.
“Nope,” she breathed.
“Kaitlin.”
Her name whispered in that deep tone made her feel far too hot and bothered even though the temperature had cooled off considerably from earlier in the day.
“Finn, why are you here?” She kept her arms at her sides, tamping down every feminine desire she had. She was no longer held captive by her impulses. Those had led to nothing for her but circling the drain.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“They have pills and late-night movies for that.”
“My dad has cancer.”
Right. She sucked in a breath, his quiet words slamming into her with the force of a sledgehammer, and then took a step back so he could enter the small space.
“Tea or liquor?” she asked, gesturing for him to have a seat on the overstuffed sofa.
“Your choice.”
She moved to the kitchen, plucking the teakettle from where it sat on the stove top and then filling it with water. After turning on the burner, she took her terry-cloth robe from the bathroom door and slipped into it. She couldn’t figure out how to subtly put on a bra, so adding the shapeless layer over her tank top was the best she could do.
The noise from her movements seemed to echo in the quiet. A glance at Finn showed that he was staring in front of him, as if some invisible movie played that captured every bit of his attention.
She unwrapped two tea bags while waiting for the kettle to boil, then poured the steaming water into the mugs. She’d developed a taste for herbal tea since limiting caffeine, and there was no doubt this was a much safer choice than alcohol. The last thing she needed was her defenses softening when it came to this conversation and the man invading her tiny home.
“Cream or sugar?” she asked as she set the tray on the coffee table in front of Finn, like she was some kind of British duchess serving high tea at midnight to one of her upper-crust friends.
“No, thanks.”
“So...” she began, lowering herself onto the cushion next to Finn and curling her legs under her. She made sure to keep as much distance as possible between them but imagined she could still feel the warmth coming off his body. He’d make a darn good personal space heater on a cold winter night.
“He said you’re the only one who knows.” Finn took a small sip of the tea, then muttered a curse.
“It’s hot,” she belatedly warned.
Up went that eyebrow again. “Trying to burn my tongue to shut me up?”
“No, actually,” she said with a soft laugh. “I don’t enjoy being the keeper of your father’s secret.”
“Why did he trust you with it and what made you agree?”
Kaitlin reached for her mug, wrapping her fingers around the warmth of the porcelain. “I came to Starlight on a whim with no idea of what the future held. Your dad and I met in a coffee shop. I was reading an old copy of On the Road, looking for inspiration, I guess.”
“He lived his entire life in this town, but that was always his favorite book.”
“Didn’t do much for me,” Kaitlin admitted, “and Jack and I had a lively discussion about my error in opinion.”
That comment earned a real smile from Finn, transforming his face from brooding to boyish in an instant. “I can imagine.”
She nodded. “I’m sure you can. He asked some questions and when I told him I’d come to Starlight to start over, he offered me a job as his assistant. Mary had retired a few weeks earlier.”
“That woman terrified me most of my childhood,” Finn said. “She and my dad were a great match.”
“I’ve done okay filling her shoes,” Kaitlin said. Then she amended, “Or at least I’ve tried. I noticed Jack getting tired more easily about a year after I started, and he was having some hip and chest pain that the doctor chalked up to old age, but obviously it was way more than that.”
“Stage-three melanoma,” Finn murmured.
“The doctors in Seattle gave him a few months, so I found an oncologist in San Francisco who was conducting a human trial called tumor targeting. I’m sure he told you he’s officially in remission. But he missed a lot of time at the bank, traveling for treatment.”
“You’ve gone with him on every trip?”
She nodded. “Without the chance your father gave me, I’m not sure where I’d be right now. I owe him a lot.”
“What do you get for your loyalty?”
She tightened her grip on the mug. “I don’t understand what you mean.”
“What’s in it for you? Are you hoping to be the next Mrs. Jack Samuelson?”
“No offense to your dad,” she said through clenched teeth, “but gross.”
“Think he’ll change his will?”
She shook her head, strangely disappointed that he continued to think the worst of her. “It isn’t like that, Finn. Why do you need to make me the bad guy in all this?”
* * *
He stared at her for several long seconds, flummoxed by the question. He hadn’t actually come here tonight to accuse her of anything. After his father’s big revelation, Finn had been numb.
He’d returned to Nick’s house, where he was staying, but hadn’t shared with his friend what he’d learned about his dad. He needed more time to process things, or so he told himself.
Parker had already gone back to Seattle, and Finn had planned to drive back tomorrow morning. But between the information Doug at the bank had shared and the news about his father, he didn’t see how he could leave just yet.
“Why doesn’t he seem to understand that the bank is failing?” he asked instead of answering the question.
She shrugged. “He knows but believes he can fix it. Your father has quite the streak of optimism after the cancer treatments worked so well.”
“Doug believes the problems started after you came on board,” Finn said, studying her.
She snorted, and the indelicate sound was strangely appealing. “He thinks I’m smart enough to take down a hundred-year-old banking institution? That’s actually a compliment.”
“Your past isn’t exactly spotless.”
Color stained her cheeks as she narrowed her eyes at him. “You researched me?”
“I had Nick plug in your name to a few law enforcement databases this afternoon.”
“I wasn’t a saint, but nothing in my past should make you believe I could manage what you’re insinuating.”
She
said the words calmly, and he liked that she didn’t make excuses for her mistakes. She was right, too. She’d been in and out of foster care, had a misdemeanor for vandalism on her record, but nothing serious.
“Maybe you should take a closer look at ol’ Dougie-boy.” She made a face. “That guy’s a weasel in a bad suit.”
Finn chuckled. Doug definitely wasn’t a paragon of fashion, and Finn hadn’t particularly liked him after hearing everything he had to say.
“My dad trusts you,” he told her, “obviously with his life. I don’t want to feel guilty for not having been here with him through the treatments, but what’s happening at First Trust is more complicated than fraud. At this point, the depositors are at risk. I need to figure out what the hell is going on and make it right.”
“It would be simple if you could place the blame on me,” she answered, lifting the ceramic mug to her lips.
He should not be focusing on her lips. Or her sleep-tousled hair. Or the way the robe she’d put on kept gaping at the center to reveal the lacy edge of her thin tank top.
“True,” he managed, shifting on the sofa and commanding his body to behave.
“Life is rarely simple.”
“Also true.”
She leaned forward to place her mug back on the coffee table, giving him a tantalizing glimpse of the swell of her breast. He needed to get back to Nick’s and take a cold shower or maybe a dip in the mountain-runoff-fed lake behind the house.
“Why is it your responsibility to make this right?” she asked, worrying the sash of the robe between two fingers. “You haven’t spoken to Jack in years.”
“He’s my dad,” Finn said, still not quite able to believe the depth of his emotion around his father’s illness.
“He loves you and your sister,” Kaitlin said gently. “We talked a lot on the flights back and forth to San Francisco. He has so many regrets about how he behaved after your mother died.”
“Regrets are a family tradition for the Samuelsons.” Finn rubbed a hand over his eyes. “I’m hoping to let go of some of mine if I fix this.”
“Does Jack want your help?”
The Best Intentions (Welcome To Starlight Book 1) Page 3