Weekend Fling

by Claire Kingsley

  I stare at him. The crazy thing isn’t that he just told me marriage isn’t about love. It’s that until recently, I would have agreed with him. I would have said yes, and I would have settled for a marriage like the one he just described, because it seemed foolproof. There wouldn’t be any sparks, but that would be safe. Sparks mean fire, and fire can burn.

  But oh my god, I want to risk the fire.

  “Marriage is about being in love,” I say. “And love isn’t about what’s convenient. Sometimes it’s really fucking inconvenient. Not to mention insane, stupid, unexpected, and crazy. But I’ll take all of that over a loveless marriage that’s convenient.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jacob says.

  “Then let me make this completely clear.” I step away. “I’m sorry, but no, I will not marry you. I won’t get back together with you, either. I didn’t think so at the time, but you did the right thing when you broke up with me. Yes, there was a certain comfort in our relationship, but that isn’t enough. It’s not even close to enough. And the bottom line is, I do want to be in love with whomever I marry someday. And I’m not in love with you.”

  “Is this about that guy who showed up just now?” he asks. “Is there something going on with him?”

  “It doesn’t matter if there is or isn’t,” I say. “This isn’t about him. This is about us, and the fact that we aren’t right for each other.”

  “What do you want me to do?” he asks.

  My shoulders slump. “I want you to move on and find someone who gets your blood pumping. And when you do, treat her right, and don’t let her go.”

  Jacob gapes at me. I go to the front door and open it.

  “Goodbye, Jacob. I wish you the best, I really do. But my future isn’t with you.”

  He blinks at me a few times. He still has the ring box in his hand, and he absently pockets it.

  “You sure about this?” he asks.

  I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Yes, Jacob, I’m actually rejecting you. “Yes, I’m sure.”

  He shrugs, like it isn’t that big of a deal, and heads for the door. He gets through the doorway and pauses to look back at me. “Your loss, Juliet.”

  I bite my tongue and shut the door behind him. Just when I almost felt a little bit bad about saying no…

  I grab my phone again, but Finn still hasn’t answered my text.

  There’s no way I can sit around here and wait. I assume he’s on his way back to Jetty Beach, so I’ll go out there to find him. If he calls while I’m on my way, we can figure out where to meet. Otherwise, I’ll catch up with him at work or home. Worst-case scenario, I can camp out at his pub until he shows up.

  I throw a few things in a bag, hardly even bothering to fold them. I guess this is me being impulsive—although I suppose true impulse would be to jump in my car without packing first. But let’s not get too crazy.

  28

  Juliet

  The drive takes forever, but finally I pull into Jetty Beach. It’s well past dark and the streets are mostly empty. I drive by his house first and thank my good memory that I know how to find it. His car isn’t there, so I head back toward downtown. He must be at work. He has to be at work.

  There’s a parking spot right out front, and the open sign is lit up.

  I throw open the door to the pub and my vision of how this would go down is already ruined. Finn isn’t here. There’s a group of people sitting at one of the tables, but no one at the bar.

  Number of times I imagined this moment on the way down here: fifty-seven.

  My heart sinks all the way to my feet. I was supposed to open the door and see him standing behind the bar, holding a white towel. Our eyes would meet. He’d drop the towel and stride out purposefully, meeting me halfway across the room. Then he’d gather me up in his arms and—

  The people at the table start glancing at me, so I shuffle to the bar and sit. I don’t know where else Finn would be. I dig in my purse and get my phone to see if he answered my text yet. What am I supposed to do now?

  “What can I get you?”

  I gasp at Finn’s voice and look up. I didn’t hear him approach. “I don’t know. All of it?”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “You have no idea.”

  He nods. “I’ll be right back. I have just what you need.”

  Oh my god, Finn, you do. You really, really do.

  He comes back a couple minutes later with his shitty day special. He slides it to me and I take a sip.

  “Want to talk about it?” he asks.

  “It’s a long story.”

  He shrugs. “I like stories.”

  I take a deep breath. “Well, it all started when I met this guy. This really incredible guy. Things got intense pretty fast—especially physically—but it was like neither of us could help ourselves.”

  “Pretty good sex, then?” he asks.

  I shake my head slowly. “No, not pretty good. Amazing. Mind-blowing. Off the charts.”

  I think he’s trying to stop himself from smiling.

  “So anyway, we spent the weekend together. When it was over, we wanted to see each other again, but he had to go to his cousin’s wedding, so he invited me along. It was kind of strange to meet his family when we weren’t even in an actual relationship, but at first we had a really good time.”

  “Especially with the blindfold.”

  “Hey, I’m telling this story,” I say. “But yes, especially with the blindfold.”

  He takes my drink and slides it back across the bar. “I don’t know, sprinkles. So far this doesn’t sound all that bad.”

  I slide the drink back. “Just wait. It gets worse. So, we’re at this weekend wedding, and I find out we’re at the resort where he was supposed to get married to his ex. And then, he tells me he’s decided he’s never getting married. Ever.”

  Finn looks down.

  “We’d only known each other for nine days. I think normal people wait until they’ve been dating a while before even having that kind of conversation. But the thing is, I wasn’t having nine-day feelings for him. I was having great big, overwhelming feelings. And that’s when I started acting a little crazy.”

  He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, but I lift my hand.

  “No, let me finish the story,” I say. “So despite the insane chemistry between us, I thought I needed a guarantee. A plan. I thought I needed to know for sure that this would lead somewhere, and I needed to know right then. And when he couldn’t give me that, I told him I had to walk away.”

  I get a little choked up and have to pause. I take a sip of my drink before I continue.

  “So here’s where it gets really bad. I started to realize how silly it was to put that kind of pressure on him so fast. And I thought about calling him, but I couldn’t quite work up the courage. And then I was supposed to have dinner with my mother, but it turns out she had set me up so my ex could come over and take me out. And he showed up at my place.”

  “The ex who was offering you everything the other guy wouldn’t,” Finn says.

  I meet his eyes. “No. The ex who was never what I needed, and never would be. The ex who came over thinking he could get me back, but never had a chance. Because I’m not in love with him. I’m in love with someone else.” I pause again. “And the man I’m in love with showed up at my door, like in a fucking story. There he was, and I think he might have come because he didn’t want to let me go. At least, I hope that’s why he was there. Only he saw my ex and got the wrong impression. And he left before I could explain.”

  “What were you going to explain?”

  “That I didn’t know my ex was coming over,” I say. “That there wasn’t a chance in hell that I would say yes to him. Because I don’t love him, and I never really did. That I was honest with my ex—I told him, in no uncertain terms, that it was over and my answer was no.”

  Finn leans his forearm on the bar. “So this guy—the one who showed up at your
house and might have been there because he didn’t want to let you go—what happened to him?”

  I shrug. “I guess he went home. And I don’t really know what he’s feeling. But I know I’m crazy in love with him. Enough that I’m willing to give it a shot and not worry so much about the future. To give it time, and see what might happen.”

  Finn smiles. “I think I might be able to fill in the missing part of your story.”

  “What missing part?”

  “The guy who came to your house—the one you’re in love with? I can tell you what he was going to say to you when he showed up at your house.”

  I bite my lip and meet his eyes.

  “He was going to say that he’s in love with you too.”

  Oh holy shit. “What?”

  “He is. If falling in love so fast makes you crazy, then he’s just as insane. He never expected someone to come out of nowhere and hit him like a train, so he wasn’t prepared when it happened. He wasn’t having nine-day feelings either, and it scared the shit out of him. Because yeah, he got burned once before. But that doesn’t have anything to do with you. And he loves you enough that he’s willing to give it a shot and—in his own way—not worry so much about the future. To give it time, and see what might happen. And be open to the possibilities.”

  My eyes fill with tears. “Really?”

  “Yeah,” he says. “I have to be honest with you, I’m not sure if marriage is on the table for me or not. But it’s stupid of me to be so stubborn that I wouldn’t even consider it. Especially with you. But, I don’t know, maybe we should date for a while before we decide about the forever stuff.”

  “I can definitely live with that.”

  “Can you?” he asks.

  “Yes, I really can. I usually don’t rush into anything, so dating for a while to see where this goes is perfect.”

  Finn walks around the bar and pulls me into his arms. “I hated it when I thought I lost you.”

  “I’m so sorry I left the way I did,” I say. “I know that was an awful thing to do. And I’m sorry you saw my ex at my house. That moment was like something out of a nightmare.”

  He leans in and kisses me softly. “It’s over now. If there’s anything worse than worrying too much about the future, it’s being caught up in the past.” He brushes my hair back from my face. “I love you, sprinkles. You make me look forward to tomorrow in a way no one else ever has.”

  “Ahem.” A man behind the bar clears his throat.

  Finn laughs. “Sorry, Jesse. I’ll be there in a second.” He turns back to me. “I have to work, but I won’t be much longer. It’s quiet in here tonight, and Jesse can close up for me. Do you want to wait here, or go back to my place?”

  I run my finger down his chest. “How about I wait at your place.”

  He gives me another quick kiss, then goes behind the bar and brings out his keys. He takes one off the keychain and hands it to me. “Here. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  I take the key and pop up on my tiptoes to kiss him. “I’ll see you soon.”

  I drive over to Finn’s house and I can’t keep the smile off my face. Butterflies flutter in my tummy. His house is dark, so I turn on a few lights and bring my bag upstairs. I didn’t pack carefully, but I’m glad I had the foresight to include one thing in particular.

  My sheer black negligee.

  I meant to wear it for Finn over the weekend, but things got a little derailed. I can’t wait to surprise him with it now.

  Before I change, I find a few small candles in a kitchen drawer. They aren’t fancy—he probably has them on hand for power outages—but I put a few around his bed.

  It isn’t long before he texts me to say he’s on his way. I change into the negligee, light the candles, lie on the bed, and wait.

  The door opens downstairs. I turned off most of the lights so his bedroom is bathed in a soft glow. I hear him come in, and the stairs creak as he walks up.

  “Oh my god,” he says when he gets to the top of the stairs. “It’s not even my birthday.”

  I laugh and curl my finger at him. “Come here.”

  “Holy shit, Juliet.” He gets on the bed next to me. “You are so fucking sexy. The real thing is so much better than the picture.”

  I grab his shirt and tug, trying to pull him on top of me, but he holds my wrist.

  “Wait,” he says. “I just need to look at you.”

  He licks his lips and traces his fingers up my body, from my hip to my neck. Then he puts his hand in my hair and leans his face close.

  “God, Juliet, I’m so glad you came.”

  I laugh softly. “Me too. I barely even packed.”

  “That’s okay,” he says. “You don’t need clothes.”

  He kisses my neck and works his way down. When he gets to my thighs, he teases me with his tongue through my lingerie until it’s soaked and I’m begging for more.

  As pretty as I feel in my negligee, I’m glad when he finally strips it off me.

  He slides his cock inside me, and I’m overcome. I almost lost him—almost threw this away. He’s everything I didn’t know I needed. Everything I could have ever asked for.

  He’s mine, and I’m his. And that’s enough for now.

  Epilogue

  Juliet

  Finn holds his hands over my eyes so I can’t see.

  “You know I hate surprises,” I say, although this time I don’t mean it. Whatever he has planned is sending little pings of excitement through me.

  “You’ll like this one. Promise.” He walks me forward through the door to his place, then stops. “Okay, are you ready?”

  “Yes, let me see.”

  He moves his hands and I open my eyes.

  Bookshelves. Three big, brand new, empty bookshelves stand along the wall.

  I try not to squeal. “Are these—?”

  “For you,” he says. “I figure we’ll need more storage space. I also cleaned out the closets upstairs, so there’s an entire closet for you. And we can go shopping and get whatever else you need so you can be super organized and stuff.”

  I want to melt into a puddle at Finn’s feet. He got me bookshelves? Some women love flowers, or fancy chocolates, or jewelry. Me? Organizational furniture.

  “This is amazing.” I take a few steps toward the shelves, so open and full of possibility.

  It took Finn and me all of three months to decide to move in together. No, moving in together after three months was not on my timeline. But I threw that out about the time Finn and I decided to give this relationship a real shot. There’s no such thing as the perfect order, at least not for us. As soon as he brought it up—on a whim, of course, because that’s Finn—I knew it was right. I knew just as quickly that I’d move out to Jetty Beach to be with him.

  That, more than the timing, was what made Madison and Becca think I’d gone crazy. Finn was willing to talk about moving in with me up in West Seattle, but then he’d have to give up the pub. I didn’t want that. His pub is important to him; it’s a piece of his dad that he gets to keep, and help thrive.

  It does mean big changes for me professionally, but change doesn’t seem so scary now. Of course, I gave it a lot of thought (as in, I overthought it almost to death), but in the end, I decided this is what I want. I’m keeping some of my clients, but also looking for new opportunities locally. It helps that Finn knows so many people. He found out the city was looking for someone part-time to work on event planning. Working on events is a new direction for me, but my passion for organizing fits right in.

  I’d say it was meant to be, but I don’t believe in that stuff.

  Not really, anyway.

  “So, you like them?” he asks.

  “They’re beautiful,” I say. “Where did you get them?”

  “I built them.”

  My mouth hangs open for a moment. He built these? With his hands? “Oh my god, Finn, I am so turned on right now.”

  He slips his hands around my waist from behind and pu
ts his mouth near my ear. “I also got you baskets to go on the bottom shelf.”

  I groan and lean my head back into his shoulder. “You are the most amazing man in the world.”

  He laughs. “I am when it’s you.”

  Finn’s friends Lucas and Gabe arrive a little later to help us unload. I’m keeping my townhouse and renting it out, so I left most of my furniture there. Finn’s place doesn’t need much—I mostly brought my personal stuff, and a few things to make it a little more homey.

  A little more ours.

  That night we curl up on the couch together. I lean against him and hold my gin and tonic on my knee. It’s almost hard to believe I’m here, making a home with him.

  It feels like this could last.

  Almost like forever.

  Six months later…

  The bridesmaid dresses Madison picked out are at least four inches too short. I keep fidgeting at the table, trying to make sure it isn’t riding too high up my leg. I glance over at Becca and I’m pretty sure she’s having the same problem. The shimmery lavender looks stunning on her, but she’s been tugging on the hem of her dress as much as I have.

  “This dress is killing me,” I say.

  Becca laughs. “I know, me too. I feel like I can’t sit down.”

  Finn is over at the bar getting us drinks, but I don’t see Brandon, Becca’s boyfriend, anywhere.

  “Where’s Brandon?”

  “He went outside to make a phone call,” she says with a shrug.

  Becca has been with Brandon for almost four years, and Madison and I are starting to wonder what’s stopping him from proposing. Although Becca seems to think it’s a foregone conclusion, something about their relationship has been bugging me lately. I want to talk to her about it, but Madison’s wedding reception isn’t the time.

  Finn comes back and hands me a glass of wine. He looks positively delicious in a dark gray suit and blue tie. I don’t get to see him dressed up very often, so it’s a treat when I do.

  He’s like a present I can’t wait to unwrap later.