Текст книги "The Finn Factor"

Автор книги: Rachel Bailey

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

She drew in a sharp breath. “Dating?”

“Yeah, like dating.” I traced my hand from her hair around to cup the side of her face. “But that word doesn’t feel right for people who are as involved as we are in each other’s lives.”

“Are you saying you should be my boyfriend?” She didn’t sound as keen as I hoped she would, and I started to get nervous. The more I thought about it, though, the more it felt right.

I nodded. “And you’d be my girlfriend.”

She adjusted her position in the seat. “Didn’t we just discuss this? About three minutes ago?”

“Forget everything I said then. I was young and immature.”

She arched an eyebrow. “And now you’re three minutes older and understand life, the universe, and everything?”

“Yeah.” I grinned and waited for her to return the smile, but she didn’t, so mine eventually faded. We were usually in sync, but now, when I could suddenly see clearly, our thinking seemed to be out of step.

“Finn,” she said, adjusting her glasses on the bridge of her nose, “I’d rather be your lifetime best friend than a short-term girlfriend. Sex with you is awesome, but you…” She laid a hand over my heart. “You are more important in my life.”

The heart she was feeling missed a beat. “You don’t want to?”

“I really want to.” Her tongue darted out and moistened her lips. “Really. I just want your friendship more.”

“But what if it could work? What if we throw away the chance at something amazing just because we’re afraid of losing something else?”

She squeezed her eyes shut as if she was in pain. “There are so many potential downsides.”

“Yeah, but on the plus side”—I leaned in and kissed her—“we could do that wherever we wanted. No more talking ourselves out of it.”

“That’s a very big plus.” Her eyes met mine and held for endless moments. “Okay,” she said finally, giving me a shy smile. “Let’s do this.”

“I knew you’d see it my way eventually.” I kissed her again, more deeply this time. Suddenly, the world seemed brighter. Full of promise.

After an eternity, we eased apart and Scarlett clicked her seat belt into place. I knew there was a goofy smile on my face, but I was powerless to do much about it. Besides, she had a matching one.

“How do you think we should tell Amelia and your parents?” I asked, thinking about the effect of walking in the door with an arm around Scarlett’s waist.

She chewed on her lip before replying. “What if we didn’t?”

“Didn’t tell them?”

“New couples don’t normally have one person’s parents and the other person’s sister living in the same house. Most new couples get to slowly introduce the person they’re dating to their friends and family. Ease into it.”

“Are you worried about how they’ll react? That they won’t approve?”

“I’m thinking more about the pressure on us. We’d be finding our feet in a new relationship with a captive audience watching our every move. That’s a whole lotta pressure.”

I thought about her parents. They’d probably go to great pains to make sure Scarlett and I always sat beside each other, and wink whenever I spoke to her alone.

“Yeah,” I admitted. “That could get awkward fast. So you think we should keep it a secret?”

“Just until we feel comfortable about it ourselves.”

There was another unspoken reason hanging in the air—I could see it in her eyes. If this didn’t work out between us and we tried to go back to being friends, the last thing we’d want would be prying eyes and well-meaning interference that could throw us off balance again.

No matter what, Scarlett was a non-negotiable in my life. If this thing between us didn’t work out, I’d do my damnedest to retrieve our friendship from its ashes. And if that happened, no one else needed to know the whole sorry saga.

“Okay, I’ll be your secret boyfriend.”

“Sounds kinda sexy,” she said, looking up at me through her lashes. “I’ll be your secret girlfriend.”

As I leaned in to seal it with a kiss, I felt a moment of trepidation, but banished it. There would be no need to retrieve our friendship from the ashes of this relationship—being with Scarlett meant far too much to let something go wrong.

Not working was not an option for us.

Chapter Twelve

Scarlett

The phone on the reception desk buzzed and the red light showed it was an internal line.

“You’ve reached Reception. Scarlett speaking.”

“It’s Cathy. Can you get lunch now?”

I glanced at the clock: 11:52 a.m. “Hang on.” I put her on hold while I turned to Andrea beside me. “Do you mind if I go a bit early for lunch?”

“Sure.” She smiled. I’d covered for her a few times when her boyfriend had dropped in, so I knew she meant it.

“Thanks.” I took Cathy off hold and said, “On my way.”

In the staff room, I grabbed my lunch bag from the fridge. My parents had bought us a box of organic apples to say thanks to Finn for taking Harvey to the vet, so I had two of those plus a cheese sandwich. I poured two coffees from the percolator and was still adding milk to the one for Cathy when she arrived.

Handing it over, I noticed her eyes shining. “What’s up?”

She dropped her lunch on the table and handed me a piece of paper from her pocket. “I’ve found him.”

The sheet of paper had a grainy photo of an attractive guy with hipster glasses and a short beard. I handed it back. “Had you lost him?”

“No, I’ve found the perfect guy for you.” She flattened the page out on the table between us.

A shiver of unease rippled across my skin. I hated lying to her, but if Finn and I were going to have our best shot at making this work, we really did need to do it away from other people’s expectations and reactions. When we’d arrived home from the workshop two nights ago, we’d managed to act normal. At least, no one seemed to have noticed anything was different. Then, both nights, a couple of hours after everyone had gone to bed, Finn had sneaked into my room. We’d had to be quiet, but it was possible that had added to the excitement—something had to explain how explosive sex with Finn was.

So far, so good. No one had realized we were dating. And to keep it a secret, it had to be a secret from everyone, which included Cathy.

However, my conscience couldn’t let Cathy keep thinking I needed setting up on dates.

“You know, I think I might take a break from dating,” I said brightly.

She went on as if I hadn’t spoken. “His name is Dane and he’s twenty-three and he already manages the café near my house. On social media he talks about art and painting, and he volunteers at an animal shelter. This,” she said, stabbing her finger beside his face, “is your future husband.”

“Right.” The picture didn’t have great resolution and only showed his head and shoulders, but I could tell he wasn’t as broad as Finn. His hair was medium brown compared to Finn’s dark brown, and he had one eyebrow raised behind his glasses in a way that was cute, but not something Finn would ever do in a photo.

I pulled my cheese sandwich from the container. “Have you been stalking this guy or do you actually know him?”

“I know him,” she said but her eyes slid to the left.

“Oh my God, Cathy. You’re stalking people to set me up on dates now?”

“I buy coffee from him every morning and today it suddenly hit me that he could be the love of your life, so I looked up the café on social media and followed some links until I found his personal pages. That’s all. Nothing wrong with any of that,” she said primly, then grinned.

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Do you even know if he’s single? Or straight?”

“He hasn’t checked the ‘in a relationship’ box or mentioned a partner anywhere.”

“Maybe he values his privacy,” I said, heavy on the irony.

She chewed on her bottom lip as she considered. “Maybe, but it can’t hurt to try. How about we meet there for coffee Saturday morning?”

“I can’t. Saturday is Finn’s birthday.” We still didn’t have a plan but it was an unwritten birthday rule that we were around for the full day at least.

“Okay, what about Sunday?”

I bit into my sandwich and made a non-committal noise.

Cathy narrowed her eyes at me over her coffee mug. “Are you seeing someone?”

The room shrank down and I was lost in memories. Finn’s body pressed against me late last night in my bed. Finn’s mouth, hot and wet, on my throat. Finn entering me, filling me. Finn groaning into my neck as he came. My skin heated and I pushed away from the table. Water. I needed about a gallon of water.

Cathy followed. “You are seeing someone! Why didn’t you tell me?”

After I’d finished an entire glass of water in one go, I took a breath and faced her with an I’ve-got-nothing-to-hide smile. “Nope, not seeing anyone.”

I crossed my fingers behind my back.

Cathy folded her arms. “Then what was that look in your eyes for?”

“What look? There was no look. My eyes are always like this.”

Jared, one of the lawyers, came in for coffee, passed a remark on the weather and left. Cathy not-so-patiently waited until he was gone, then said, “When I asked if you were seeing someone, your eyes glazed over and you happy-sighed.”

“I made no happy sigh.” Though it was totally possible I had, since the feel of my legs wrapped around Finn’s hips as he thrust inside me was definitely my new happy place.

“You’re doing it again!” Cathy tapped her shoe on the linoleum floor. “Spill.”

“I can’t,” I said then winced. I’d pretty much just admitted there was a secret.

Cathy grabbed my elbow and steered me back to our seats at the end of the table, where our lunches still sat. “Scarlett Logan, you will tell me what’s going on right now. Is it one of the partners of the firm? Is that why you’re keeping it a secret?”

“What? No!”

“Then who?”

I picked up my apple and toyed with the stalk. Maybe I could tell her. She didn’t know anyone else in our little friends and family bubble, and it might be good to have someone to talk to about it all. Normally I talked to Finn about my love life. Now he was my love life, which limited my options somewhat.

“Okay, here’s the thing. I slept with Finn by accident and now we’re going to try dating.”

Cathy’s mouth popped open in a silent, thrilled scream. “That’s fantastic. You’re already friends and he’s so hot and he sleeps in the same house—this is perfect!”

A warm fuzzy glow sprang to life in my chest—she was right, this could be perfect if we didn’t screw it up. Plus, it was nice to have someone else as excited about this as I was. “We’re keeping it a secret for now, until we find our rhythm.”

“Roger. My lips are sealed.” She mimed locking her mouth then completely ruined the effect by immediately opening it again. “Tell me the sex is great. Please tell me that much.”

“The best sex I’ve ever had.” I tried not to look too smug, but it was a hard ask and I probably failed. “Five times better than any other sex. Maybe six.”

“You’re not still worried about him being aloof if you dated him, are you? Because I think that horse already bolted.”

It was that, but so much more too. “Finn is pretty much the most important person in my life. I love my parents and my brother, but I don’t see them every day.” Well, I did see my parents every day at the moment, but they’d move on soon. “If I have a falling out with anyone else in my life that I care about, it would be a sad thing. But if this goes wrong with Finn, and I lose him and have to move out, my entire life would be turned upside down. We eat breakfast and dinner together every day. We’re involved in each other’s families. He’s my biggest cheer squad and support. If I ruin all that for sex—even great sex—I’d be devastated.” Devastated was far too mild a word. My world might end. I couldn’t lose him.

She scrunched up her nose as she considered. “Okay, I see that. But I think it will work and you’ll have it all. You’ll have that friend stuff plus great sex every night.”

“That’s what I’m counting on.” Praying for. I picked the stalk out of the top of my apple. “My entire life seems to be about gambles at the moment.”

“What else is going on?”

I glanced around to check no one was coming through the door. “I’ve been offered a promotion here, to a PA position.”

“That’s great,” Cathy said, practically bouncing in her chair. “It will be so much easier to sync our lunch breaks.”

Good point. “So you think I should take it?”

She frowned. “You didn’t already?”

“They said I could have this week to think about it.” And the week was almost up. I really had to make a decision. Cathy and I had talked about her life for most of our lunches this week, so I’d avoided mentioning it. I’d hoped if I let my mind settle in with all the information, it would spit out the answer, but that method hadn’t worked even a little. Maybe I should have told Cathy sooner.

“Are you holding out for more?” she asked in a stage whisper.

That depended on the definition of more. “This was supposed to be a temporary job to save up some money to finish my degree. I’m still officially enrolled in accounting, I’ve just deferred it.” Twice. But who was counting.

Cathy leaned back in her chair. “Do you want to be an accountant?”

I automatically opened my mouth to say “yes”, but paused. For all intents and purposes, Cathy was outside the ecosystem of Finn and my parents, so I could be honest without worrying that anything I admitted would be held against me in future discussions about my career.

“I don’t hate accountancy—the spreadsheets and graphs are fun—but it’s not a dream career or anything.” Though, how many people got to work in their dream career? Maybe I was being too picky.

“Why did you choose it?” She swiped one of my apples.

“Honestly? A friend in high school had parents who were both accountants. They had a nice house and enough money for things they needed.”

“You didn’t have that?” She bit into my second apple while I kept playing with the first.

“My parents are hippies. They don’t think material possessions are important, so their definition of what we needed and mine are totally different.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “I had no idea.”

“They’re camped out the back of Finn’s place now, visiting. I don’t want to be camping at their age. I don’t want to be camping at my age. I want financial security, and accounting seemed like it could do that for me. Plus, I was good at math, so it made sense.”

“But it’s not the only job that would give you financial security,” she pointed out.

I got up and found a knife for my apple, and cut off a couple of pieces. “You don’t think I should be an accountant either?”

“Either?” she said, snagging the knife for her apple. “Who else doesn’t think you should?”

“Finn. My parents.” And the Universe, according to my mother. I bit into an apple piece.

“Why have we been talking about me this week when you have all this more interesting stuff going on? My life is boring compared to yours at the moment.” She smiled in glee, obviously relishing having something juicy to talk about. “But back to the topic at hand. Why don’t they want you to be an accountant?”

“My parents think I should paint. They think talents like that are a gift from the Universe and you should honor the gift by following it.”

She drummed her dark red fingernails on the table as if I was under interrogation. “And Finn?”

“Pretty much the same, but without the references to the Universe. He thinks painting makes me happy, and I should do what makes me happy.”

“He’s got a point there.”

“How many financially stable artists do you know? That are still alive?” I ate some more apple. “So few artists make a living at it. Painting might make me happy, but buying my own house with a dishwasher and an icemaker will make me even happier.”

“Okay,” she said, waving the knife in my direction, “if you’re just looking for a job that gives you money, why not take the promotion?”

“And forget about accounting?”

“Don’t forget about it, but see where this promotion takes you. Maybe it will lead to some other opportunity you don’t know about yet. And if nothing else, it will give you more of an understanding of how businesses run if you do go back to accounting.”

That made sense. Why look a gift horse in the mouth? What if this promotion was the Universe offering me a leg up, but my parents were too focused on my painting to see it?

“What I need here is a chart.” I jumped up and grabbed a notice about not taking other people’s lunches from the fridge, then found a pen on the counter.

“A chart?” she said dubiously.

“Well, more of a list.” I flipped the notice over so I could use the blank side. “A list of the pros and cons of taking the promotion.”

For the next five minutes, we went over all the reasons again as I wrote them into either the pro or con column. When we were done, the pro side was longer.

“You’re right.” I scrunched up the paper bag my lunch had been in, and threw it and the apple core into the waste bin. “I’ll go and tell them now I’m taking it.”

“Excellent,” she said. “I’ll cross my fingers that your desk is near mine.”

And I’d cross my fingers this was the right decision.

Scarlett

I cast off the last stitch of my latest arm knitting project and spread it out on the carpet in front of me, pretty pleased with the outcome.

Amelia leaned over to see. “That’s the best one yet.”

“I think I’m finally getting the hang of it.” It was another infinity scarf, basically an O shape that would hang around the neck.

“I’ll get Harvey,” Amelia said, jumping up.

“Hey,” Finn said from the dining table where he was making notes on some research he’d done. “Harvey’s happy outside.”

Amelia looked at him like he was insane. “No, he’s not. But anyway, he has to try on the new scarf Scarlett made him.” She opened the door, and Harvey trotted straight over to Finn and sat at his feet, smiling.

Giving in, Finn gave him a pat then looked over at me. Nothing about his outward appearance changed when our gazes met, but I felt it all the way to my toes. There was electricity in the air, and I knew he felt it, too. With Amelia in the room, neither of us could acknowledge it, but that didn’t lessen the intensity.

Finn cleared his throat. “You made him a scarf?”

“It’s emerald green.” I held it up for him to see, perhaps being a little too jiggly in my pose, but it paid off when his eyes started to glaze over.

Finn rubbed a hand down his face, clearly trying to keep his focus on our conversation. “Perhaps it’s escaped your notice, but dogs don’t generally wear scarves.”

“It will keep his neck warm.”

“He has fur for that.”

Ignoring his irrelevant point, I held a hand out for Harvey and he came to me and rolled on his back. I gave him a quick tummy rub. “Okay, sit up now so I can see how this looks.”

In one smooth motion, Harvey was back on his feet and doing his best sitting. I looped the scarf over his head but it hung too low, so I doubled it over and arranged the edges so it looked pretty.

“It’s perfect,” Amelia said, fingering the scarf. Harvey smiled at her, seeming to know that whatever we were saying, it was good. “He’ll need some other colors, though. Some for round the house—”

“He doesn’t live in the house,” Finn interjected from the table, but we ignored him.

“—some for going out. And we should make some for his doggy friends. I bet Mr. Snuggles would look fabulous in red.”

It was great to see Amelia so excited about a project, so I nodded. “Sure.”

“Oh! I know. We could make some for the dogs at the shelter, too.”

“That’s a lot of scarves,” I said skeptically, also wondering if the shelter would even accept a donation of dog scarves.

“I’ll help. And Finn will, too, won’t you, Finn?”

Her brother looked up from the table and ran his hands through his dark hair. Damn he looked good when he did that. I should ask him to do it again once we were alone. Maybe while I was kissing my way down his abdomen…

“Help what?” he asked, apparently not noticing my reaction.

“Make scarves for the dogs at the shelter. I was thinking we could make lots of scarves and all the dogs would be warm in the winter. If the three of us all make some, we’ll have heaps for the shelter dogs.”

Finn’s eyes looked pained and he opened his mouth, but then he hesitated. I saw the moment he realized how much this meant to Amelia, and how excited she was, and stuffed his own reluctance down, replacing it with an indulgent—if not altogether believable to me—smile. “Sure.”

My chest just about burst at the sight of his beautiful heart in his eyes, his willingness to do something ridiculous for his little sister. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around him and hug him tight. As he made his way over to us, he glanced at me, and my feelings must have been written over my face, because he gave me a slow, but tender, smile. I was a lucky, lucky girl.

He dropped onto the floor beside Amelia. “Show me what to do.”

She picked up a ball of orange wool and handed it to him. “It would be better if Scarlett showed you since she’s the best at it.”

“Okay,” he said, his gaze swinging to mine and heating. “Show me what you want me to do, Scarlett.”

Oh, lordy. I swallowed hard. The answer to his question was long and complex, involving hours of fun for both of us. Unfortunately, since we were pretending we weren’t together, I had to keep that tidbit under wraps. This secret boyfriend plan was harder than I’d expected.

“You need to cast on first,” Amelia said, nudging her brother a little closer to me. “It’s kinda tricky, so you should let Scarlett help you with that part. She’ll guide your hands.”

My head snapped up as I watched Amelia. Was she plotting something? She was sorting through the bag of wool, finding other orange balls and putting them in front of Finn, looking innocent. Which didn’t mean anything with her. Was she still harboring a hope Finn and I would get together? I couldn’t really check without giving away our secret, or lying about us already dating.

Finn watched me, expectantly. “Yes, come and guide my hands, Scarlett.” His face was deadpan but I knew him well enough to know he was teasing.

Perhaps I was stupid to rise to the challenge while we had an audience, but something inside me didn’t want to be the one to back down.

“Sure,” I said sweetly. I grabbed a ball of orange wool and knelt behind him, making sure to press close to his back. Then, with one arm over each of his shoulders, I wound the wool around his forearms and tied a knot to make the first stitch, explaining the process as I went. “To cast on, you need to make a row of basic stitches.”

I leant over even farther, pressing my breasts into his shoulder blades, and picked up his wrists. His breath caught, but it was such a slight change that I might have missed it had my ears been any farther away from his mouth. I was pretty certain Amelia wouldn’t have noticed the undertones of what was happening.

Once we had the first row of stitches, I moved one of his hands through a loop and told him to grab the wool and pull it back through. And, as I was explaining, I rubbed ever so slightly against his back. He tensed but was obviously trying to keep his reactions under wraps. I had to admit seeing Finn’s hands bound held a certain appeal that wouldn’t have entered my mind a few weeks ago.

The doorbell rang and Finn jumped up. “I’ll get it,” he said. Although we knew there was a chance it would be Billie, since she was hoping to make it home tonight, his reaction was also quite clearly about getting away from me. I sat back on my haunches, pleased my job was done. He’d basically dared me, but he’d been the one who couldn’t take it. And now he was trailing orange wool across the living room, with his hands still pretty much tied together by the knitting.

When the door opened his face lit up. “Hey, Billie.”

There was something that looked almost…complete in Finn when he had both his sisters around. He lifted his bound hands as if to hug her, but couldn’t get them apart.

Billie raised an eyebrow. “You get into some kinky stuff while I was gone, Finny boy?” She sounded husky, like she’d been screaming at a concert the night before, but that was just her natural speaking voice. I’d always envied her that tone—it was equal parts unusual and interesting.

Amelia ran over and, all arms and legs, launched herself at her sister. “Billie, I’m so glad you’re home. Finn’s helping us do some arm knitting since the scarf Scarlett made looked so good on Harvey.”

Finn gave up trying to hug Billie, and instead took her bag—something he could achieve with bound hands.

“Who’s Harvey?” Billie said, slinging an arm around Amelia.

“Harvey’s our dog. Wait till you meet him. Even the vet said he was clever.”

Billie turned to Finn, her black, chin-length bob swinging with the motion. “What the hell? You got a dog and didn’t tell me? I speak to you guys every week and no one mentioned a dog.”

Finn rolled his eyes. “Harvey belongs to Scarlett’s parents, who are currently camped out in the backyard.”

“Hey, Scarlett,” she said and plopped down on the sofa behind me.

I started rolling the orange wool back up from its crisscrossing trail across the room. “Hi, Billie. Great to see you.”

“So,” Billie said, her jet black bangs falling in her eyes. “Let me get this straight, now that I have more information to go along with the little you shared on the phone. In the short time since I was last home, Amelia got kicked out of school, you guys got a dog, there are hippies camping out in the backyard, Finn took up knitting and got involved in bondage, and…” She looked at me. “What have you done that’s new and ridiculous, Scarlett?”

I’m having crazy-good sex with your brother every chance I get. “Um, I went to a silversmithing class with Finn. Does that count?”

“Why not?” Billie said with a laugh. “So what else did I miss?”

Amelia crawled into the seat next to her sister, watching her with hero worship. “Harvey has a sore paw but Finn doesn’t believe it, I got chosen for a role in the dance concert at my new school even though I’d missed some of the practices, Finn’s been interfering in Scarlett’s love life, and Scarlett and her mum gave me the sex talk about finding your own pleasure and porn.”

Billie blinked huge brown eyes. “Yeah, I’m going to need a drink to cope with all of that information.” She turned to me. “Don’t suppose you have the ingredients for your famous mojitos?”

“Sure,” I said and stood, taking in Finn’s pained expression from across the room. Maybe I should have mentioned the content of the sex talk before now.

Amelia jumped up and stood beside me. “Can I have one this time?”

“You’ll have to ask Finn,” I said, despite knowing his answer.

Before she could even ask he said, “Nope,” and continued trying to disentangle his hands.

“Come on,” I said, dragging Amelia into the kitchen with me. “I’ll make you a virgin mojito. You’ll love it.”