Finn exhaled a sigh. “Something specific you wanted to ask me, Large?”
Holding up his hands, Cody feigned innocence. “I might’ve heard something through the grapevine about you and Joselyn Whyte. I know how you feel about the little ice queen and wanted to help put the rumor to rest. Unless …”
He itched to confide in his oldest friend, but Declan Whyte’s latest warning tamed the truth. “You heard right. Joss and I are seeing each other.” He folded his arms over his chest. It wasn’t technically a lie. They were seeing quite a bit of each other—some of which, Finn couldn’t shake from his mind.
“Wow. I can’t believe it. Needed to hear it firsthand, though.” Rubbing his jaw, Cody snorted out a humorless laugh. “So, scrounging my sloppy seconds, huh? What changed your mind about her?”
Finn’s protective instincts fired, hot and fierce. Sloppy seconds? It’s not like Joselyn had ever been Cody’s girlfriend. And even after their one and only date Cody had done a thorough job of explaining why Joselyn had picked him over Finn. Seeing the petty and overt slander this time around made Finn question the validity of Cody’s confessions all those years ago. He’d never given Finn any reason to doubt him. They were, after all, best friends since kindergarten, but the dark gleam in Cody’s eyes gave him pause.
The accusations undoubtedly blazing from his eyes were unfounded so he bit his tongue and kept his cool. Until …
“Man, you’ve still got it bad.” Cody mumbled.
“What’d you say?” Had he heard that right? Clenching his fists, the popping of Finn’s knuckles pierced the heavy silence.
Finn caught the slight pull of a grimace before the aloof mask moved to cover Cody’s slip. “Hmm?”
“Don’t play dumb. It looks tacky with that suit.” All these years he’d made excuses for Cody. He didn’t know how you felt about her … If you’d told him he wouldn’t have stabbed you in the back. They all crumbled when the phony look on his face exposed the outright betrayal from his spoiled friend.
Cody’s thick brows pinched, and he managed to look contrite. “I … I was just looking out for you.”
“Got a funny way of showing it.”
“Listen. Okay, so I lied.” He shrugged like it was no big deal. “I knew how you felt about her back then. I know you thought you were flying under the radar, but, dude, I know you better than anyone. It was pretty obvious.”
“So you slid the blade in with your eyes wide open. That’s good to know. You, who had girls all over your radar when I’d never even asked one out on a date, turned the only one I cared about into a conquest.” It might seem like high-school drama to some, but to Finn, since this was his closest friend for the better part of three decades, it felt like the ultimate betrayal.
“I knew she didn’t like you like that. She made this big deal about dating someone in her class. I dunno, man. I guess I figured if I took her out, you’d get over her without getting crushed by that cold heart of hers. At the time I thought I was doing you a favor. Sorry, bro. I really am.”
Finn had known Cody forever, but he could be hard to read. Was that the whole truth or was that the Largeman spin? Large had always done pretty well with the ladies—gross amounts of money and cool cars to his advantage—but in everything else Finn tended to one-up Cody without even trying. Sports and school, and even their other friends seemed to show preferential treatment toward a more easygoing, less competitive Finn. But Cody’s skin seemed so thick; Finn could never tell if something was bothering him.
Had he been jealous and honed in on Finn’s weakness? Desperate for a win? Finn had battled his own insecurities but would never have taken down a friend to come out on top.
Finn’s migraine was now at critical mass and his vision was starting to blur so he let it drop. For now. “Let’s talk about something else.”
“Whew.” Cody’s laugh grated. “Never been so grateful for all that faith and forgiveness crap you harp on and on about. Maybe there’s something to it.” He shoved playfully at Finn’s shoulder like they hadn’t just nearly come to blows.
“Yeah, you should try it out sometime.” Finn forced a lightness into his voice he didn’t feel and ushered Cody out. “I’ve got stuff to do. We’ll catch up later.” He slammed the door without waiting for a response.
After tugging on a hoodie and his Carhart coat, he leashed Dodger for a walk. The cold air was bound to temper the steam piping in his hot head. As he walked he prayed, trying to find some peace. Some direction. Feeling continually lost in the maze of his thoughts. When he finally looked up he realized maybe his compass hadn’t been too far off the mark because he’d ended up exactly where he wanted to be.
The firehouse.
He missed it already. Something about the stately two-story brick and stone building was fortifying. It was where he felt grounded even when he was flailing.
The weight lifted off in increments with each step he took through the engine bay toward the office. The slight scuff of Dodger’s nails on the concrete provided the only sound until he reached the main hall and something decidedly feminine infused the air—a sugary aroma and the twinkling sound of laughter. A lot of houses had female firefighters and paramedics, but not theirs. Not presently, anyways.
He heard it again, and the familiarity jacked his pulse up a notch. Oh, he’d know that giggle anywhere. He slinked silently down the hall until the voices were more distinguishable.
“… are so good, Miss Whyte. You didn’t have to, but I’d never turn down any sweetness you have to offer.” Jones called upon his usually disguised southern drawl, laying it on pretty thick to enhance his charm, no doubt.
“A small token of my appreciation.”
Her sweetness? He leaned closer. What in the heck had she given him?
“So, you got plans for tonight?”
“All right Jones. Leave the nice lady alone. Besides, don’t you have a girlfriend?”
Great. Bronson was an even bigger flirt than Jones.
“I, however, am currently single.”
A smooch sound found Finn’s ears, and he knew Bronson had laid one of his cheesy hand kisses on her smooth skin. There were some hushed words and another lyrical giggle. Squeezing his eyes shut, he stood out of sight, tormented by his interpretation of what he couldn’t see.
“What’d I miss? Ooo, treats.” Wally’s snorting and gulping announced he was consuming something with savage intensity. “Oh. Oops. Hi, Miss Whyte.” The muffled words escaped from a food-laden mouth. “Thanks for the pastries.”
Finn fought back another cringe. Did they all have to make such fools of themselves?
“Wally, close your mouth. This here is a lady. A gorgeous one at that. But I bet you get that all the time.”
He could picture the beefed-up Bronson pawing all over her. One by one the guys took turns buttering her up with praise. Joselyn rewarded them with modest deflection and timid giggles. It sounded like they were all vying for her attention like a bunch of half-starved dogs.
Speaking of dogs.
He looked down in time to see the looped end of Dodger’s leash disappear around the corner. Seconds later Joselyn’s silky voice greeted his pup. Busted. He’d planned on sneaking back out unseen after making sure Joselyn escaped his crew unharassed. Ship. Sailed.
Shrugging his shoulders and craning his neck, he slipped into character and made tracks toward his crew. Here goes nothing. “There’s my girl.”
Joselyn’s eyes widened at the announcement.
Crossing the last few paces, Finn surprised himself when he tucked his arm around the slim curve of her waist and deposited a brief kiss on the satiny plane of her cheek before he nuzzled her ear. The heated scent right there slammed into him like a two-by-four between the eyes. Danger. Danger! He looked away before reading her expression, not sure he wanted to know and honestly a bit too dizzy to process it. At least he was until he met three other dumbfounded stares. “What’s up, fellas?” It was then he realized he’d joined ra
nks of the hounds when he’d so brazenly marked his territory.
“Wait. You two are together?” This from a tanned and blond—both fake—Bronson, more often referred to as “Bravo” for his fixation with his own reflection and his likeness to the egotistical cartoon character Johnny Bravo.
Finn had already showed his hand, now he had to ride it out. Turning adoring eyes on Joselyn, he gave her waist a squeeze and she melded against his side. “You didn’t tell them, babe?”
Her nervous giggle emerged in a stutter. “Guess I hadn’t gotten there yet.”
“Oh! Ha! Good one, Iron Man. Almost had me going there.”
“Not joking, Jones.” Finn relished in his cocky grin. Read ’em and weep, boys.
“But you don’t date. I mean … you have dates, attractive ones, but—”
Finn held up his hand. “Don’t help me, Jones.”
“Sorry.”
“When did this happen?” Bronson crossed his arms, flexing his muscles.
Finn had endured Declan’s interrogation for an hour the other night. It was Joselyn’s turn to be in the hot seat. He gave her the slightest pinch, and she startled. “Oh. Uh … Well, Finn and I have known each other for a long time, and, uh, after he rescued me he begged me to go out with him. Poor guy’s had it bad for years. It was getting a little path—”
“She simply couldn’t resist me any longer.” Finn slid his hand down to her backside and gave it a little warning tap.
Keeping remarkably still, she reached discretely to his misbehaving hand, twisted his wrist, and bit her fingernails into his skin.
“Man! Why couldn’t it have been me? Finn wasn’t even supposed to be in there—after the trauma of the Monroe fire. Next time, I get to defy orders and save the girl, okay guys?” Wally’s face shone with eagerness and innocence.
Finn stopped breathing. Joselyn released her punishing grip. The languishing silence spoke volumes about Finn’s supposed secret. He drew in a brittle breath, hoping his words didn’t sound as fragile as his emotions. “Well, guys, it was good catching up. See you after next week.” He bent down and snagged the end of Dodger’s leash, trying to breathe through the panic until the cold winter air hit his face.
They all knew about his PTSD? Had Ryker told them about the nightmares?
A cold sweat skated down his spine. He’d mounted extreme pressure on himself to keep it together in front of the guys. Didn’t need everyone second-guessing him, treating him like some incompetent sad sack. If Wally knew, everyone knew. And now, due to Wally’s verbal diarrhea, so did Joselyn.
Finn fled the building without looking back. Dodger trotted along, ignorant of Finn’s escalating anxiety. Handling this on his own was one thing. Being scrutinized as some sort of weak, helpless loser was an option he would not accept. But what was he supposed to do now?
Something grazed his hand. When he turned Joselyn barreled into his chest. “Oomph.” Stepping back, she searched his eyes. “Sorry. I keep bumping into you.” Her lips quirked in a slight, teasing smile.
“Need something?” Over her shoulder he spotted Bronson peeking out the open bay.
She glanced back and then took a step closer. The soft pads of her fingers slipped across the skin of his palm, and she wove their hands together. “Can I drive you home?” Her teeth caught the corner of her bottom lip and held.
He swallowed a curse, hating feeling vulnerable with every fiber of his being. Her eyes were his undoing, so he glued his to the pavement as if there was something more fascinating in the slab of concrete than in the mystifying crystal-blue amethysts he’d gotten turned around in more than once. “I don’t live far. I can walk.”
“But it’s so cold. Come on.” Tugging at his hand, she towed him along to her SUV. He conceded silently. Dodger pranced across the backseat while they waited for a train to pass through Station Plaza without a word. A few minutes later he focused on the images hurtling past the window. “Uh, Joss? You passed my place.”
“Yep.”
“Fine. Sorry for my little love tap back there, but really, can you blame a guy?”
Her smiling lips remained forward.
“My family will come looking for me, you know?” he teased.
“I know.”
“Uh, okay. Where are we going?”
“Ah, patience, Kemosabe. You’ll see.”
Chapter 15
Joselyn Whyte
Uncomfortable silence. How refreshing. Joselyn nibbled her lip until the skin felt raw, then finally risked a glance at Finn. His eyes were trained out the passenger window, looking sightlessly lost in the blur of barren trees.
What had Wally meant? Trauma? Defying orders? She wished she could rewind back and listen again, pay more attention. Instead she’d been squirmy, distracted. The faint trace of Finn’s kiss burning a hole in her cheek and the dizzying effects of his hard body against hers was enough to demote her IQ a solid twenty points.
He obviously didn’t want to talk about it, and it was driving her nutso. Another five minutes of perfect silence deemed too much to take. Joselyn pressed the power button on the steering column, counteracting the unbearable stuffiness with soft whining sounds of the local country station.
“She’s trying to kill me.” Finn craned his head back.
“Thought you were sleeping over there.”
“As if anyone could sleep with this shrapnel slicing through their eardrums.” He plucked Joselyn’s cd case off the floor. “This oughtta be enlightening.”
“It’s not much farther.”
“Another minute of this, and I’ll need to have myself committed.”
“Tempting.”
Ignoring her, he turned down the volume and riffled through her collection. “Hey, Wednesday Addams, how about some music that doesn’t require happy pills?”
“What? There’s some good stuff in there.”
“The Fray, Coldplay, Adele, Jason Mraz? We need to get you a proper musical education. Maybe Zeppelin, Clapton, and REO to get you started.” He swore under his breath. “Evanescence, really?”
“Hey, now, there is nothing wrong with a little angsty girl rock. And Mraz is like the ultimate happy music. You’re crazy.”
“Whatever you say, Debbie Downer.”
“Sweet. Let’s get that in writing.” She risked another glance and got ensnared in his gaze. Moses, her heart actually fluttered. So lame. Thankfully, she was driving and rerouted her eyes to the road.
“What’s this Eli Young Band?”
“That’s not their newest album, but they’re amazing. Put it in.”
Finn complied none the wiser. Joselyn skipped to track two. “One of my favorites.”
It was like music therapy. The catchy tune for “Crazy Girl” slipped like liquid Xanax through her veins, loosening her tense muscles, helping her unwind. Belatedly, she realized she’d unwound too far. Managing to forget herself long enough to add her own sing-a-long harmony and an asinine jive of her head to the beat. Oh, the horror. She froze, clamped down on her lip so hard she might have tasted blood.
Silence met her from Finn’s side of the car, and she felt his gaze like direct sunlight on already blistering cheeks.
Stupid girl was more like it.
She could hold her own, but she was no singer. Not like Sadie. Come to think of it, she was pretty sure Finn could sing too. She knew he played the guitar, but she’d never witnessed his talents firsthand.
Her thoughts careened from there down a very slippery slope that had her face heating even hotter. Curse her pasty skin!
“This song is like your anthem, crazy girl.” Finn’s fingers tugged a lock of her hair. “Better. Still country, though. Very sneaky.”
She lifted her hands from their ten and two vice on the wheel and shrugged before returning them, her morbid clench on the smooth woodgrain a vain effort to restrain the humiliation still broadcasting in her blazing cheeks.
Before the song ended they’d pulled up to the back entrance of her father�
��s property. Joselyn hopped out and unlocked the low metal gate, drove through, and repeated the act. Finn didn’t seem to realize where they were as he scanned the endless equestrian fence and vast pasture until they pulled up to the stables.
When the car came to a stop, Finn angled toward her. “We gonna go for a ride?” He cocked an eyebrow.
“Well, I thought you could use a distraction. I always ride when I need to clear my head. And they say it’s best to get back on the horse. Or in your case, just get on the horse.”
A smile inched across his lips, his eyes, shadowed beneath a thick fringe of honey-highlighted lashes, filled with amusement. “You did something nice for me.”
“No. I simply didn’t want to deal with your sulky little tantrum. And—”
He grasped her chin, silencing her with the press of his thumb. “It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.” He winked and skimmed over her bottom lip before retracting his hand.
Oh … oh, man.
Need. Oxygen. Joselyn sucked in a breath and of course that made him grin, all slow and knowing, completely aware of his effect on her.
Well, crap.
Not having any semblance of a comeback, she cracked the window for a snoring, belly-up Dodger before jerking open the door and fleeing the close quarters.
Deep purple ink spilled over the bleary horizon, bleeding lavender and periwinkle strokes onto the blanket of gray. The air had a frosty bite, mollified only slightly by her exhaled heat pumping out a ridiculously labored hazy white plume.
She told herself it was the late-afternoon breeze that sent a shudder to her bones and quickened breathlessly in her lungs. It had absolutely nothing to do with the muscle-bound tank of testosterone dogging her heels every step of the way. By the time she drew back the sliding door she was practically wheezing like an asthmatic. Chill pill. Stat! Of course Finn strode past, limber-legged, easy as you please, absorbing the top of the line stable with childlike wonder. Which she had to admit was a little bit adorable.
From Winter's Ashes: Girl Next Door Crime Romance Series - Book Two Page 11
