by Brea Viragh
Who was the real asshole?
I caught the flashing lights from a neon sign above the bike shop. June had given me excellent directions and what to watch for. We were still half a block away when I asked the cab driver to stop.
“I’ll walk from here,” I stated.
“Good. Better for the surprise. If you don’t mind, I’ll watch you until you go inside. It would help put this old man’s mind at ease.”
“I don’t mind.” I threw him the fare, a good part of the money I had on my person, and gently rose from the back seat.
Apprehension stiffened my arms when I walked. This spur of the moment adventure was turning into an epic emotional journey.
Another few steps. One foot in front of the other. A million and one things raced through my mind. How I should act. What I should say. How to explain my sudden appearance and how I’d known where he’d be when he’d tried to cut our ties.
My hands fisted in the sides of my coat to keep from bringing my fingernails up for a nibble. I’d already bitten the cuticles bloody and the nails to the quick on the drive. There wasn’t much left to do unless I wanted stumps at the ends of my wrists.
My nervous compulsion would have to wait until I was alone.
The thought of seeing Finn urged me on toward the building when I would have pulled away, wondering where I’d lost my nerve. The heart I’d relegated into hibernation began to beat again.
“This is it,” I muttered under my breath. “Everything will be fine. He’ll be happy to see you.”
A garbage can lid tumbled to the ground with a clatter. I jumped, heart clogging my throat, and urged my feet faster until I made it to the edge of the building.
A large display window dominated the front of the building. Chrome and metal flashed in the dying light of the sun, all polished to within an inch of their life and designed to catch the eye of any passersby. I remembered what the cab driver said about this being a rough neighborhood and wondered how the shop owners deterred any break-ins with such expensive merchandise in the window.
I banished those thoughts from my mind and took a deep breath. Shoulders squared, back ruler-straight, and an ache beneath my sternum that refused to go away.
If this were the movies, I would whip around the corner and catch his eye. The sparks would be palpable between us when he rushed to the door, taking me in his arms and vowing to never let me go.
This wasn’t a movie.
It took time for my eyes to adjust when I spun to face the window. Time to squint and distinguish between the large group of men among the motorcycles inside.
Then I saw Finn. Through the glass, his features were twisted in a happy smile. There was no limp when he walked. No unhappy shadows lurking behind his eyes. He looked content, hair casually scruffy, and sporting a goatee. Like he’d finally found his place in the world.
I raised a hand to knock and left it suspended in midair, inches from the window. I didn’t need noise to capture his attention. Finn glanced up and our eyes met.
Sparks flew.
And we stood there. There was no slowing of the world around me. I heard every car horn and angry shout, every whir of an engine and the general din of city life. We were far removed from the tiny town we’d left behind.
I forced a smile. Finn lost his.
This was not a fairy tale. The realization hit me hard. It was not a movie with a romantic ending. This was real life. And I’d made a mistake coming here. He wasn’t happy to see me. If anything, indifference slid across his face, and when he looked away, my stomach dropped.
Lines appeared on his face and I watched him stalk off the showroom floor.
Before I broke down the way every atom of my anatomy begged me to do, I twisted out of sight and leaned against the brick. It was strong against my back. Heated from the afternoon sun. I felt each crack in the mortar and wondered if my insides resembled the face of the building.
Finn wasn’t coming for me.
The pain returned hundredfold until I doubled over at the waist. Was it possible for a man to break your heart more than once?
“You’re back,” the cab driver remarked when I slid into the back seat once more.
“I had the wrong address.” Weak, I leaned into the leather cushion. “Can you take me to the bus station?”
“With pleasure. You sit tight. I’ll get you there.”
The ride home was the longest trip of my life. That kind of thing tends to happen when your joy dies.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“You have to stop moping.”
I sighed, adjusting my seat but keeping my chin on my palm. “Why do you care? This isn’t my day.” Using my eyebrows to gesture expressively, I continued, “This is happy couple overload. Go join your sister in her revelry and don’t worry about what I’m doing.”
My mother harrumphed and scooted closer, her chair squealing across the wooden floor. She’d splashed on a coat of makeup for the big day. With her hair in a bun and dark liner ringing her eyes, I could finally see the woman my father fell for.
“Today is for your cousin, not for you,” Trista stated. “They deserve to see a cheery face when they look at you. Can’t you at least pretend to be happy for Nell and Kai? Please?”
I’d done my best. Which was to say, I had moped around for a solid week after my disastrous and exhausting trip to Minneapolis. I’d also overindulged in a number of sugary sweets and carbs until I felt like I needed a wheelbarrow to move. There was no more orange food in the house, and Trista had cut me off. That harpy.
Now, with another two weeks under my belt, I was on track again with my life. I could afford my own cheese puffs. I had a solid income stream, with new sales coming to me every day. And a hole in my chest where a shriveled muscle used to live.
“Sure, I’m happy. I’m lost in my own little world.” I let my free hand flutter in the space in front of me, a butterfly missing a wing. “Don’t mind me.”
“You’re spoiling the party,” Trista insisted. “Get up and dance. Look.” She pointed to the dance floor. “That nice young man in the bowtie is trying to get your attention. Go give him a little bump and grind.”
I glanced in the direction she indicated. “Mom, he’s a waiter. Don’t you see him holding a tray of hors d’oeuvres? It’s pretty obvious.”
“I’m trying to help.”
The problem was, I didn’t want any help. I was done with people trying to help me. Maybe it was the pride talking, and I wouldn’t deny it if questioned, but I wanted to stew. I wanted everyone within a mile radius to feel as miserable as I did.
Unfortunately, engagement parties weren’t the best place for misery unless you were on the bad end of a recent breakup.
On the dance floor, the couple of the hour shared a laugh. Their engagement had been a surprise. I distinctly remembered Nell telling me she would rather eat glass than get married. It was funny how people changed once they met the right person.
“You’re not going to touch your food?” Trista used her chin to gesture toward my plate of uneaten appetizers.
I slid the plate in her direction. “You can have them if you want. I’m not really hungry.”
“Honestly, River.”
The sooner she gave up on me, the better. I didn’t want to ruin her good time, but I didn’t have the patience for idle chitchat. Sad to say I’d come because of simple obligation.
Within moments, Trista joined the stampede of happy dancers on the floor, waving her twig arms in the air. The DJ worked the turntable with ease and eighties dance music poured from hidden speakers situated around the room. I was delighted for Nell and her man, happier still for my aunt and uncle who I knew appreciated the occasion.
At the tables, guests were served rich coffee and sugary cakes via the bakeshop in town. Nell and Kai took turns feeding each other bite-sized pieces during the hour I sat and watched.
Fighting off the need to puke from the cuteness overload.
It was a tremendous
gathering filled with warmth and genuine affection. It was the positive side of small-town living. Where instead of worrying about public image or who is talking about whom, people came together. The room was filled with camaraderie, well-wishers and friends and family bursting through to the four corners.
Why had I been so worried about finding my place?
“You shouldn’t sit here alone in the corner. You’re blending into the wallpaper.”
My heart and ears recognized—knew—before the rest of me registered surprise. A zip of lightning scorched my insides with those few syllables.
I ducked to hide my smile in my hands. “I don’t believe you were invited.”
“No, I wasn’t. Some bodyguards gave me trouble at the door and I had to bribe them with a fifty to get in,” Finn remarked, his voice dry.
It took effort to turn and see him standing there. Looking downright drop-dead gorgeous in his jeans and secondhand suit jacket. God, whoever made those pants molded them to his rear.
“There are no bodyguards here,” I replied, shivering. “They were outside the budget.”
“Then I wonder where my money went.” Finn scratched the top of his head, ruffling the strands there until he resembled a sexy caveman. “I know I had a fifty disappear.”
Words clogged in my throat faster than a ten-car pileup. I wasn’t sure what to say, how to say it, or how to make him understand how important his being here really was.
“You came back,” I managed. “I didn’t think I would ever see you again.”
“Don’t think it’s because of you,” he teased.
It warmed my heart and I struggled for a comeback. “Oh, it isn’t?” My eyes stung and I rubbed to rid them of the burning. “You came for the free food?”
“There, you figured me out. It didn’t take you long.” Finn knelt beside me until his head was within inches of mine. Long fingers trailed a path down to my knee, lingering, squeezing. There was something in his eyes, an indescribable something mixing pain and pleasure. “I wanted to stay away. I tried not to come.”
“You looked happy. In Minnesota.” There was no sense in denying I’d gone to him. He’d seen me. He’d known why I was there.
“I was miserable in Minnesota, and I think we can both agree it wasn’t right for me.”
Why didn’t you come after me? Why didn’t you call?
“Well,” I began slowly, “I hope you’ve managed to find a better place, then. No sense in staying miserable if you don’t have to be.”
“Ros.” He shifted closer. I couldn’t move a muscle. “How you doing, sweetheart?”
Sweetheart. I refrained from touching him, unsure what I might do. “Oh, I’m fine. Hale and hearty.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what? My health?”
“I saw you at the window. It was so goddamn hard not to come after you.”
“Then why didn’t you?” I burst out. “You left me standing out there like an asshole. I thought you hated me.”
I’d managed to shock him. He grabbed my hands seconds before the cuticles went between my teeth. “I could never hate you. Why do you think I was miserable in Minneapolis?”
“Because there were too many women and not enough time?” Bitterness puckered my lips.
“Because you weren’t there. I was wrong, thinking we’d both be happier if I left.”
I disagreed. “You were selfish.”
“Definitely. Like I said before, I’m a selfish prick. At least I’ll make good on it. Now tell me, why are you here all alone?”
“I like being alone. Totally happy to sit here while everyone else has an enjoyable time.” My chin pointed out toward the dance floor where my cousin and her soul mate were lost in each other. The room melted away and it was clear: The party may be for them, but the show was for the rest of us. These were two people who needed nothing more than the reassuring touch of their chosen companion.
Finn chuckled, a deep rumble in his chest. Locks of hair in need of a cut fell over his forehead and obscured his expression. All thought screeched to a halt when he looked at me. “Well, whose fault is that?”
I made some sound in my throat, nothing to be construed for real words. There was little to say while my heart stumbled. “I’m going to say it’s yours,” I finally managed.
“Here I thought I was a bright point in your evening.”
“Finn.” His name came out breathier than I intended. My gaze landed on his, and instead of the usual pluck I was used to seeing, there was something else. I didn’t want to put a name to it for fear it would leave the moment I latched on.
“River. I didn’t—” His voice broke. “I couldn’t leave you. Not for long, anyway.” He pushed away, leaning back on his heels to survey me from head to toe. “You haunted my dreams. No matter what I did or where I went, I thought about you. I might not be able to give you the life you deserve, but I have to try. I’m fucking done being a coward and running.”
“I would have been fine,” I said, making sure to drive the point home. “I thought you’d left for good and I’ve survived all these months. No breaking down into a weepy-eyed maiden pining for her lost love.”
Although that wasn’t too far from the realm of possibilities at the moment.
Finn chuckled and shook his head. “I have no doubt.” He twined our fingers together.
I narrowed my eyes. “Then why didn’t you return my calls?”
“I’m used to doing things my way. When I said it was over, it had to be over. There was never any room for someone like you. Arrogant, pushy, presumptuous.”
“If this is your idea of a compliment, then you need to go back to the drawing board.”
“We balance each other. I know now, if I’d stayed gone, I would never be right. There would be a hole I couldn’t fill.” He used our combined hands to knock against his sternum. “I love you. It means more because I’m such a manwhore. Remember?”
I let my head drop back. Overcome with emotion, I struggled to find the right words to say. The kind I’d never given anyone before now. Before Finn.
“I haven’t heard a word out of you since you left. There were moments where, I’m not proud to tell you, I lost it. I was confused. Scared. I went to pick up the phone and you weren’t there.”
He toyed with my fingers. “I’ve been doing some serious thinking about us. About what I want from life. I think I’m going to stick around here for a while.”
“Here?” I lurched forward. “In Heartwood?”
“Yes, in Heartwood. With you. It’s a good place to raise kids. Aw, Ros, you’re blushing!” His fingers curled around mine and brought me back to the moment.
I choked. “Kids?”
“Yes, kids, so stop looking like you’re going to throw up in your mouth.”
“I’m…emotional.”
“Your emotions are one of the things I love about you.”
“You said you love something about me.”
“Not something. Everything. I love you, River, beyond any sense or logic.” He stopped me before I had a chance to speak further. “Let’s dance.”
“I don’t know if you’re ready for it.” I gathered the hem of my dress to keep from another rip–tear session.
“Let me prove your lessons weren’t in vain, okay? I’ve been practicing.”
The instant he touched me, I felt a quiet click. A soft sigh of two people where they needed to be. At last.
I let my man take me in his embrace. Let him cherish me the way he wanted, knowing we had many more days to come.
“We will be happy, you know,” he murmured into my hair. “It’s all I’ve wanted. A bike and a stubborn woman waiting for me.”
On a sigh, I tilted my head until our temples touched. “It will ruin your image—”
He cut me off with a sharp inhale. “Yeah. Seems like I’m going to have to let go of my bad-boy persona. Speaking of, I’ve been in the market for a house, but I can’t find a damn real estate agent. Think you
can help me?”
I let out a small laugh when he caught my chin in his hand. “No one up to your exacting quality of standards?”
“Not a one. I’m looking for a place where there’s space to grow. Maybe a yard for a kid or two. A garage where I can work on my bikes.”
The thought of children warmed me, when I spared a second to think seriously about them. A light-haired girl and a red-headed boy, with their father’s smile and their mother’s…well, hopefully they wouldn’t get my bad judgment. Maybe my spunk was genetic.
“And who is going to take care of all this property?”
“I know a chick. Easy on the eyes, pretty stubborn, definitely dresses like a prim and proper lesbian. I think she might be willing to take me on.”
He guided me with slow, easy steps, molding my hips to his body. Neither of us felt the weight of the room on our shoulders. We didn’t see the smiles from the ones closest to us, the way the bride and groom shared a single, knowing look with each other.
“Will you take the deal, then?”
“I still think I can get over you.”
“Tenacious.” He lowered his mouth to mine, nibbling a trail. “Let’s make another bet. One you won’t regret buying into. I promise it will be best for both of us.”
“Tell me.”
“You agree to marry me, and I’ll agree to make you happy for the rest of our lives.”
“I’m still not sure you’re capable…” I teased. “After all, you’re a pig.”
“Now who’s being a selfish prick?”
“I’m not entirely sold on the kid option, either.” I slapped a hand on his chest when he lowered his head for a second kiss.
“It’s open to interpretation. Come on.” Finn took my hand and tugged me away from the crowd.
The pressure in my chest increased exponentially with each step. My heart beat again, faster and faster the longer he held me. I spared a glance over my shoulder at my mother. She caught my eye, smiled, and nodded. A goodbye, one she would not try to question.
“Where are we going?” I asked breathlessly.
“Anywhere you want. There’s an open road in front of us and a bottle of champagne in my travel bag. We’ll call it a celebration.”
