Better Luck Next Time

by Denise Grover Swank

  She grinned. “We never finished Pride and Prejudice.”

  He grimaced. “I might have finished it without you.”

  She gave his shoulder a playful shove. “You cad.”

  He laughed and captured her hand in his.

  They looked into each other’s eyes for a moment, and Adalia was astonished that she was in this place with him, not the dog rescue—okay, yes, the dog rescue—but in this state of happiness. Of easiness. She’d never felt this way with anyone before, and while she reveled in it, she was still scared. She’d given far too much of herself to Alan, and look where that had gotten her.

  Finn is nothing like Alan. Alan isn’t even fit to tie the shoelaces on his dockers.

  Are those laces even real, or are they just for show?

  She laughed, and Finn’s eyes lit up.

  “Something funny?” he asked.

  “I have sad news for you: there’s no way we’re moving on to your Fit and Fabulous movie without finishing Pride and Prejudice. Together. It’s not my fault you cheated and watched the rest without me.”

  He gave her a mock glare. “Excuse me, it’s Fast Five.”

  “Well, the deal was we’d watch them together, so we’ll just have to pick up where we left off.”

  His eyes darkened. “Exactly where we left off?”

  A spark of desire ignited in her core, but she ignored it—and his question—as she turned to face the next kennel. A red Siberian husky lay on the concrete floor, staring up at her with a look of resignation.

  “Finn,” she cried out as she squatted next to the dog.

  He moved closer. “The sign on the door says his name is Tyrion.”

  “Does it say why he’s here?” she asked, staring into the dog’s soulful eyes.

  “I guess he was returned.”

  Anger burned in her blood as she stood, glaring up at him. “Returned? What kind of monster would do that?”

  He gave her a half shrug. “Maybe he was in a foster home and something came up.”

  “Whatever it was broke him,” she said, close to tears. “We can’t just leave him here.”

  “Let’s talk to Maisie.”

  “We’ll have to stop hiding first,” she countered with a stern look.

  Taking her hand, he tugged her to a cage closer to the door. “Adalia, meet Cinnamon.”

  He was trying to distract her with an adorable little terrier mix, jumping up against the door, but Tyrion still lay on his side, his eyes mournful, and she felt close to tears.

  Finn offered her an understanding smile. “A lot of the dogs are scared—like Tyrion—and they have trouble snapping out of it here in the kennels. It may actually distress him more if we hang out outside of his kennel. If you want to visit with him, we can have Maisie bring him to the playroom after we talk to her.”

  She held her hand up to Cinnamon, and the little dog sniffed it and then licked her through the cage.

  “That means he likes you,” Finn said, pressing his chest to her back.

  A wave of heat washed through her. If he was still trying to distract her, it was working in the most delicious way. “Do you lick too when you like someone?”

  He groaned and took two steps back. “You’re determined to torture me,” he said, his voice tight, but his eyes were dancing. “And no, I don’t typically lick people when I first meet them.”

  Adalia spun around and advanced on him as though he was her prey. He backed up into the wall, his eyes hooded as he watched her.

  “I should hope not,” she said in a husky tone, placing her hands on his chest. “I only lick people who are very special to me.” Holding his gaze, she lifted onto her tiptoes and lightly ran her tongue over the hollow of his throat. Then, before he could get his arm around her, she backed up out of reach, flashing him a wicked smile.

  He watched her, a war waging in his eyes, and she almost felt guilty about teasing him. It hadn’t been a premeditated move. It had been completely natural—organic—like everything with him so far.

  “I like you, Finn,” she said, all teasing gone. “I’ve never known a man like you. You make me feel like I can just be me.” And wasn’t that a revelation. Plenty of guys had been interested in her for her body, and Alan had been in it for her art, but she’d never been involved with a man who was this interested in her as a person. Her mouth lifted into a crooked smile. “I’m sort of sorry for what happened just now, but not because I regret doing it. More like I’m sorry if I’m making this harder for you.”

  He slowly shook his head. “Don’t stop being you, Addy. I love that you’re so spontaneous. You bring it out in me too.”

  Smiling, she took his hand and squeezed it.

  “I’ll try to behave,” she said in a teasing tone.

  “God, I hope not,” he said, pulling her to his chest. He kissed her, and she grabbed a handful of his shirt, clinging to him as his mouth devoured hers. She pressed into him, needing more, and he responded in kind, sinking a hand into her hair, tilting her head to give him better access.

  “Well, this is awkward,” a woman said in a dry tone.

  Finn lifted his head to face the woman who stood in the doorway. She was about medium height and had a head full of curly red hair, the look in her green eyes alternating between irritation and amusement.

  “Is this the new make-out spot and someone forgot to tell me?” She cast a glance over her shoulder, into the lobby. “River, you’ll have to bring Georgie. Maybe we can book appointments.”

  “Maisie,” Finn said, gently releasing Adalia and taking a step toward his friend. “It’s—”

  One brow lifted higher than the other as the red-headed woman gave him her best schoolteacher glare. “Not what it looks like? If that’s true, then I’m super curious what it is.”

  River appeared behind her, a dark look in his eyes. “Maisie, let it go.”

  “Obviously, this is inappropriate,” Finn said, holding his hands up. “I apologize for any—”

  “Whatever,” Maisie said, rolling her eyes and turning around. “We have things to discuss. After you two wrap things up here, meet us in the playroom.” Then she shoved River into the lobby and shut the door behind her.

  Finn spun around to face Adalia with a questioning look in his eyes. “Addy, I’m sorry.”

  She clenched her hands at her sides, her irritation rising. “Don’t you dare say you’re sorry for that. I’m not. Was it embarrassing? Sure. But I still don’t regret it. Do you know why?”

  He cracked a grin. “No, but I can’t wait to hear.”

  Jabbing her finger into his chest, she kept her gaze on his. “Because what we have is raw and it’s real. And every time you kiss me, it makes me want to know you even more. Mentally, emotionally, and—” she paused and licked her bottom lip, “—carnally.”

  Finn sucked in a breath.

  “Granted,” Adalia said with a grin, “the location could have been better. But we’ll be more careful next time.” Then she walked past him, making sure her butt swayed with her gait. She grabbed the doorknob and glanced over her shoulder, not surprised by the direction of his gaze. When his eyes lifted, she grinned. “Or maybe not.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  When Finn and Adalia walked into the playroom, the tension was almost palpable. Although there was a small table surrounded by four rickety-looking chairs, Maisie and River were both standing, almost on opposite sides of the room. It took everything in Finn not to grab Adalia’s hand and declare they were heading back to the new make-out spot. But Maisie shot him the kind of look that would pin a butterfly in its box, and he knew better than to try. River just seemed frustrated, which suggested that Maisie still hadn’t leveled with him—because if she had, he would be more upset.

  “Where’s Hops?” he blurted out. It was a stupid thing to say, really—he’d known the Hops thing was a ruse, and Maisie had clearly known too.

  “Miraculously improved,” Maisie said with a tight smile. “But River came over an
yway so he could discuss the art show with us.”

  River clearly wanted to object, and it was obvious he would prefer it if they both got lost. But wishes were horses, and they were all out of hay (or something like that—Finn’s maternal grandfather had basically only spoken in colloquialisms, but they’d gotten jumbled in his old age. He’d been by far the most relatable person in Finn’s family).

  “Well, hallelujah!” Adalia said brightly, lowering herself into one of the empty chairs. Finn shrugged and sat next to her. “So tell me, Maisie, how does a person go about becoming a foster parent for the shelter?”

  “Oh, so you noticed there were dogs back there?” Maisie asked, her lips curling up a little at the corners, softening the remark.

  “Of course! He used the dogs to draw me back there. Then he had his wicked way with me,” Adalia said with a straight face, then burst out laughing—probably at Finn’s strangled expression. He could practically feel River’s gaze shifting from Maisie to him.

  “It wasn’t quite like that,” he said.

  But Maisie laughed too, and she finally left her position by the door and sat down across from Adalia.

  “If you’re serious about it, you can fill out an application at the front desk before you leave. Spoiler alert: I’ll approve it. We’re always in need of new fosters.” She tilted her head. “But you’re living at Beau’s old place, huh? With Jezebel around, we’ll need to get you one that doesn’t scare easily.”

  Adalia laughed. “You’re not scared the dog would go after her?”

  Maisie just gave her a look.

  “Touché. That’s okay. I wouldn’t want a wimpy dog, anyway.” Her eyes softened, and Finn knew she was thinking of Tyrion, of the deep sadness in his eyes as he lay on the floor. Something about that dog had spoken to Adalia, like maybe she saw the brokenness she felt reflected back to her.

  She glanced back at him, and he took her hand under the table. River and Maisie could probably see what he was doing anyway, but hell, that ship had sailed.

  “What about Jack?” River asked, the first time he’d spoken since they’d entered the room. “Shouldn’t you ask him before you bring home another pet?” To Maisie, he said, “Jack’s back from Chicago. He’s living at the house too.”

  Maisie’s only response was a terse nod. Her gaze still on Adalia, she said, “One of them’s caught you, I can tell. Want to give me a hint?”

  Adalia smirked. “Let’s just say I’m a Game of Thrones fan, even though the last season was a major letdown.”

  Something lit in Maisie’s eyes, and he knew Adalia had her on the hook. “Ah, Tyrion. Certain dogs don’t do well in the shelter. He needs to be with people. I tried taking him home with me, but my old man isn’t a fan.”

  “You live with your father?” Adalia asked, her tone more curious than judgmental.

  “That’s what she calls her dog,” River answered, finally approaching the table. “Einstein’s twelve, and he’s what you might call set in his ways.” He glanced at Maisie, as if asking for permission to sit. Emotion warred in her eyes, but she gave him a slight nod.

  “Tyrion’s been returned three times, you know,” Maisie said, her focus back on Adalia. “Trust me, I want to get him out of here. You saw him. But I also don’t want him to get attached to someone only to be let down again.”

  “Three times?” Finn blurted out. “What’s wrong with him?” He hadn’t noticed any special markings on the kennel, but the last thing he wanted was for Adalia to take a biter home with her. Especially a biter the size of that dog.

  But suddenly everyone at the table was scowling at him.

  “He’s perfect,” Adalia insisted.

  Maisie, speaking at the same time, said, “Nothing.” The two of them exchanged a smile, then Maisie added, “Huskies are adorable puppies, but they get big fast, and they’re more work than people think. They need a lot of exercise, plus they shed enough to make a fur coat. Several times over. And they’re notorious runners. Tyrion ran from his last home enough times that they just gave up.”

  Would it really be a good idea for Adalia to bring home a canine escape artist when she already had a cat that went on walkabouts?

  But Finn saw the look in Adalia’s eyes—she didn’t care. She needed to bring that dog home to heal something in herself.

  “If he wanted to stay with me, I would never bring him back,” she said simply. “Never.”

  Maisie gave her a weighing look again and then nodded.

  “Maybe you can text Jack?” Finn suggested.

  “You’re going to ask him over text if he wants to foster a dog he’s never met?” River asked dubiously.

  “Why not?” Adalia said. “He just moved in with a sister he’d never met. It’ll be a year of firsts for him.”

  Maisie snorted, her eyes sparkling. “I think I like you.”

  “Well, good,” Adalia said, sending a look at River akin to a dare. “Because I like you too.”

  River held up his hands. “Text him. I know when I’m beat.” He glanced at Maisie again. “And I know better than to stand in the way of a person and their soul companion.”

  “Soul companion?” Adalia asked, already pulling out her phone. Her eyes flicked to Finn, and he felt his heart start racing.

  “That’s what I’ve always called them,” Maisie said softly. “Pet seems demeaning to me.”

  Some of the tension in the room had eased, like a balloon with a slow leak. Maisie wanted to harden her heart to River, that was clear, but it wasn’t working. Not with him around, anyway.

  Adalia fired off the text so quickly that Finn felt borderline sure it just read: You’re okay with me fostering a dog, right? She certainly hadn’t typed enough to have warned him about the shedding or the running away.

  Then again, maybe Jack shouldn’t have taken off abruptly if he hadn’t wanted to come back to a depressed husky. Finn still didn’t totally trust him after what he’d overheard on the phone the other day, although he realized there could be dozens of different interpretations. It had only been a one-sided conversation, after all, and Adalia hadn’t seemed overly concerned.

  “Should we talk about the show while we wait for him to respond?” Finn proposed. Then, because Maisie clearly didn’t know the deal with Jack, he added, “Jack’s been doing a lot of work organizing Buchanan’s events, but he’s out of town this weekend. We’ll loop him in when he gets back.”

  “Sure. Whatever.” Her gaze shot to River, and she said, “I’ve been thinking about what you said, Finn, about coming in to tug on some heartstrings—and purse strings—opening night. I’m down. And I’d be happy to bring a litter of puppies for people to play with so we can really turn the screws.”

  So she’d decided she wasn’t going to ignore River for…well, however long it took to get over unrequited love. Well, unrequited romantic love. He knew River loved Maisie, but he saw her as family. Always had. Something Finn might have—gently—told Maisie a long time ago if he’d realized how she felt.

  Adalia gave a little huff of a laugh. “I was thinking about that, actually. I’ve been doing photo shoots with Hops and Jezebel to promo River’s new beers. What if I take photos of the adoptable dogs? We can display them in the events hall. Maybe raffle them off, and the funds for a particular photo can go to help that dog.”

  Finn squeezed her hand. “That’s a great idea.”

  Maisie grinned. “We’ll need to use a bucket of treats, especially for the surlier ones, but I like the way you think. People have trouble ignoring sad-eyed photos. As they should.”

  Adalia brightened even more, like a dimmer lamp turned up on high, and Finn wanted to photograph her. He wanted to always remember how she looked in this moment, when she was letting her creativity, her passion, freely flow. When she wasn’t trying to shut it down.

  She glanced at him. “Maybe I can even see if Blue will knit one of them. That would be beyond incredible. You know she could do it.”

  “Blue Combs?” Maisi
e asked.

  “Yeah,” Finn said. “Do you know her?”

  “She’s good people.” She smirked. “I set her up with this enormous Flemish rabbit someone had brought to the shelter. I usually only take in dogs, but I couldn’t turn him away. He had to stay in this playroom until Blue took him home, because I was worried how the dogs would react.”

  “She would have a giant rabbit,” Adalia said fondly, and Finn had to laugh.

  “If you keep talking about her like that, I might get jealous,” he said.

  “Maybe you should,” she said, nudging him.

  River shot them another look, but he didn’t say anything. At least he didn’t look pissed. Finn got the impression he intended to leave them to sort this out—whatever this was—and he appreciated it. It was a trust he didn’t deserve.

  Maisie studied Adalia for a moment, then said, “Maybe the three of us could meet for a drink sometime. You, me, and Blue, I mean—not these losers.”

  River’s gaze shifted to Maisie, and Finn saw a gratitude in his friend’s eyes that he keenly felt too. If Adalia was going to stay in Asheville, and oh God, he wanted her to stay, she would need to make connections. To grow roots, as River would say, and Maisie, despite whatever she might feel about Georgie, was offering that.

  “I’d like that,” Adalia said.

  Her phone buzzed then, and she jumped a little before she bent over to check it.

  “Ha!” She set the phone on the table and turned it so they could all see the screen.

  He could see Adalia’s text, which, sure enough, read: I want to foster a dog. You down?

  Jack’s reply was beneath it: I’m gone two days, and now you’re getting a dog? Sure. Why not. Make sure Jezebel doesn’t eat him.

  “Welcome to Winterfell, Tyrion,” she said, grinning.

  “Why not King’s Landing?” River asked.

  “Duh. Huskies prefer the cold.”

  “Who’s volunteering to restrain Jezebel?” Finn said. “Because, not it. I still have scars on my arms from when I tried two months ago.”