“Finn.” She needed him closer. Stronger.
He responded to her movement, her words, her every breath. He was exactly where she needed him to be but it was too much. His knowing, his power, his surety, overwhelmed her. Her toes curled into the liquid warmth of him.
“God, Finn.”
He was part of her, above her, controlling her. She gasped into him. He tensed, prolonging her, teasing her. She lost track of time, of herself. Then, with a slow, small cry, she came into his final thrust, feeling him climax too.
“Cecelia,” he whispered.
She shuddered at the power of what they had just done. My God, what had they just done?
“Cecelia Burns,” he whispered again. He stroked her hair.
She clung to him, unable to pull him close enough. “What?” she whispered back. With him it was like nothing else. It was like magic.
“Nothing,” he said. “Just your name. I’m just hearing it, in every cell of my body, that name.”
And for that moment, she let herself believe.
Chapter 30
Cecelia came in the door from a grueling day at work—three codes in two hours, one which was clearly a DNR (Do Not Resuscitate by order of the family). The nervous medical student on duty had called the code anyway, and Cecelia didn’t arrive until they had the poor ninety-seven-year-old woman intubated and hooked up to every machine in the ward.
It made her think of Fate. Of how maybe Fate had intruded into the family’s plans for the sick woman, how maybe Fate had needed this old woman to live a few days longer. Just as it needed Finn to live. To not be her One True Love so that he could take care of Maya, get the happiness he deserved.
She’d have to let him go, eventually. The fact pulled at her. He had to be happy and being with Cecelia was keeping him from the ultimate happiness.
She thought of the amazing time they had last night, on that couch. The ultimate happiness. No sense in rushing anything. They could have their own sort of happiness for a while. That wasn’t a crime.
Amy plodded down the hallway in her bathrobe and slippers, eating cold Chinese food out of the carton with her fingers.
Cecelia peered around Amy. “Where’s Finn? Where’s Maya?”
“Man, this is no fun,” Amy said. “Look at me—I’m lazing about. It’s seven at night and I haven’t even gotten dressed today. You’re so damn happy that I can’t even get you mad at me anymore.”
“Mad?” Cecelia barely looked at her. Where was Finn? She’d been waiting all day to see him. “Why should I be mad?”
“Slippers! Jammies! I took the day off. Doesn’t that piss you off?”
Cecelia patted Amy’s shoulder distractedly. “No. You’re right. I’m too happy to be pissed off.”
“Oh? And why are we so happy, my little fleshpot?” Amy asked. “Did my big sis get her mind blown last night with a very naughty man—”
Cecelia couldn’t help herself. “A very sexy, knowledgeable, naughty man—”
“Why thank you! You’re pretty sexy and knowledgeable yourself, Doctor.” Finn sat up from where he’d been lounging with a magazine on the couch. He was freshly showered and wearing a T-shirt and jeans.
Cecelia felt her face go red. “Where’s—?”
“Maya’s having a sleepover with Granny Trudy.”
“Granny Trudy?”
“Yeah. I think she’ll always be Granny Trudy whether I like it or not.” Finn held up his hands in surrender.
“I don’t suppose anyone made dinner?” she asked. She let herself fall into a lime green slipper chair across from Finn. She pulled off her sensible hospital flats. She had been seeing patients from seven in the morning until six-thirty at night and she hadn’t eaten all day.
“I can order in,” Amy said brightly.
“Or we can just eat the leftovers. How did you get that Chinese food? Did you use my credit card?”
“I started an account—”
“Amy!” Cecelia fell back in her chair. Now that she had located Finn and gotten her fix, she could muster some anger at her little sister.
“In my name!” Amy protested. “I got the job. Starting tomorrow I’m a waitress at Santa Anna’s. My name tag says ‘Maria.’”
Cecelia blinked in surprise.
“It was that or Juan. They only had two tags.”
Cecelia turned to Finn. “But you, lounging around, you’re supposed to be fixing up Molly’s place.” She pointed an accusing finger at Finn.
He smiled at her and her whole body reacted. Forgiven.
“I worked from 6:00 A.M. until 5:00 P.M., lady. Hard physical labor. We contractors got you cardiologists beat by a mile.”
Oh, right. He had been gone in the morning when she’d left. All this sex was making her stupid.
“Anyway, I’m making dinner tonight,” Finn announced. He jumped up.
Cecelia watched him walk into the kitchen and thought, who needs dinner?
Amy winked at Cecelia. “And he cooks!” she whispered.
Cecelia ignored her sister and followed Finn into the kitchen. “What can you make?” she asked dubiously.
“Ah,” Finn said. “Vat vould dee lady desire?”
Cecelia leaned back on the counter. You. “Oh, are we French? Well, in that case, how about omelettes with wild mushrooms in a cream sauce?”
“Non. Eet is not my specialty.” He crossed the kitchen and pinned her to the counter with the length of his body. His specialty.
“Cheese soufflé with a baby greens salad?” His body was warm against her.
“Non.” He guided her face to his and nipped at her lower lip.
“Leg of lamb with—”
He kissed her full on the mouth, stopping her words. She opened her lips to his. Warmth, then heat, then fire. He pulled her closer and she didn’t resist.
“—with sex?” She gasped.
He kissed down her neck. “Ah, that vee only serve on Mondays.” He pulled back and let his eyes travel the length of her. “Today, eets the vorld’s best grilled cheese sandwich.”
Cecelia’s body went rigid.
“Vat’s wrong? Dee mademoiselle does not like le grilled cheese?”
“I haven’t eaten grilled cheese in twenty years.”
He frowned at her serious tone. “Why not?”
“It’s a little hard to explain.” Cecelia sighed. She could eat a grilled cheese. It wasn’t as if she were a little kid. “Okay. Grilled cheese tonight, but I’m making wild mushroom omelettes for you tomorrow morning.”
“You won’t have time to make omelettes tomorrow morning.” He stroked her cheek.
She pulled back.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Is it the tenth?”
“Oui.”
She looked at the calendar hanging by the phone. “I’m supposed to be at an appetizer tasting for the wedding tonight.”
“Don’t you think that’s a little ridiculous?”
“But I have an appointment that I didn’t cancel.” Cecelia looked at the man in her kitchen. “Right. I guess it’s a little ridiculous.”
Finn opened and closed the cabinets. “There’s really nothing in this place.” He smiled a very wicked smile. “Let’s go to the tasting together.”
“You mean pretend that we’re a couple getting married?”
“Why not? It’s a free meal.”
“Me too!” Amy came into the room. “I am the maid of honor, after all.”
“No way. It’ll be a hundred happy couples and us.”
“We’re a happy couple.”
“A happy threesome,” Amy corrected.
“Exactly,” Cecelia said. “No way.”
“C’mon,” Finn urged. “I worked eight straight hours dragging drywall up three flights of stairs. I don’t really want to cook or shop and neither do you. Maya’s at Trudy’s all night. Let’s do it.”
He took her in his arms and she thought, I’ll do anything you say, buddy, just keep on holding me tha
t way. “Okay. But I’m not pretending anything.”
“Right,” Finn said. He looked at her long and hard. “I’m not either.”
Cecelia would never have come if she had known it would be like this. Couples wearing white baseball hats that said “Bride,” “Groom,” “Worst Man,” and even “Jilted Ex-Lover,” filled the vast room. Chippendale dancers strolled by in their tuxedo pants and suspenders (and only pants and suspenders), stopping here and there to pose for pictures with giddy brides.
A woman with an oversized smile handed Cecelia a huge pen with a loopy, droopy white feather spiraling off the back. The pen said “Your Name and Date Here” in gold letters down the side. Another woman handed her a white and gold notebook with a pad of paper. Then she reached into the bag of hats. “Bride I presume?” the woman asked.
“Sure,” Cecelia accepted the hat and stuffed it into her purse. She shouldn’t have come.
“This is the time we have scheduled for your makeup consultation and your hair consultation if you choose to indulge,” the woman said, handing Cecelia slips of gold paper. Then she gave Amy and Finn their hats. Amy got a hat that said “Maid of Honor.” When the woman wasn’t looking, she switched it for a hat that said “Still Available.” Finn accepted an “Eligible Bachelor” hat, then stuck it immediately into the nearest potted plant.
“This is worse than the gypsy fiasco,” Cecelia whispered to Finn as they entered the crush of people in the room. “I thought it was just an appetizer tasting.” Waiters circulated with huge trays. Each tray had a number on it. Cecelia checked her pad of paper—right, she was supposed to check off what numbers she liked so they could be served at her wedding.
Her wedding. Emptiness engulfed her. My God, was there still a part of her that wanted to plan the wedding? She looked around the room at the endless sea of happy couples. She took a roast beef sliver on a cracker off a tray and tried it. A little salty, but not bad. She wrote the number down on her pad with the quill pen.
“What are you doing?” Amy asked.
“Nothing.”
“You’re planning a wedding! Oh, goody goody. You know, I always said, forget True Love and just go for great sex.” Amy grabbed three doughy poufs off a passing tray and stuffed two in her mouth.
Finn, who had been investigating an enormous ice sculpture imitation of Rodin’s Kiss statue, joined them. “It’s only four thousand dollars. What do you think, honey? Should we get it?”
Cecelia wasn’t in the mood to joke. In fact, she was feeling sick. She was hanging out with the wrong man for great sex. She had to stop, to let him go. “I’ve got to get out of here,” she said to them.
“Not before your makeover!” Amy cried. “Unless, of course, you want to give your appointment to me.”
Cecelia handed all her paraphernalia over. “I’m going to the bathroom,” she told them. “And when I come back, we’re leaving.”
Finn started to say something, then stopped. Cecelia pushed through the crowd of couples, surprised that tears were already in her eyes.
Chapter 31
She stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. This was pathetic. She was hanging out with a gorgeous guy for great sex, but he wasn’t her One True Love. She let a solitary tear drop.
Okay, she had to get herself together. As soon as this was over, she had to make up her mind: Finn or True Love. Being with Finn was fun—hell, it was a lot of fun—but maybe it was time to get serious. Jack wasn’t coming back. At least, not back to her. So, the next step was obviously to go to California and find that lawyer named Finn.
She splashed water on her face and rejoined the crowd. A waiter passed and offered his tray. Salmon, dill, a dab of créme fraiche on a sliver of French bread: the appetizer would have been superb if Cecelia hadn’t stuffed it in her mouth the exact moment that she saw Jack across the room. On his arm, her grasp light and sure, was a pale woman in a pink dress. Her thin brown hair, under her “Bride” cap, was needle straight. She didn’t wear a trace of makeup. On the other side of Jack stood his happy mother. Her hat said, “Warning: Mother of the Groom.”
Cecelia spit the salmon into a napkin.
She stood stock-still. Jack didn’t see her. She was, after all, just one shocked face in a sea of smiling happy ones. Happy couples in jeans or casual work clothes surrounded her. They nibbled off heaped trays, kissed, put food into each other’s smiling mouths, kissed, scribbled notes onto their menu handouts, kissed, met each other’s eyes with knowing glances, kissed.
Cecelia turned back to the bathroom. It seemed acres away, impossible. Just when she decided to make a break for it anyway, a giggling bridal party scurried through the bathroom door, and she knew it was hopeless. She’d just have to discreetly throw up behind the pillar.
No. She’d get a hold of herself.
Where were Finn and Amy? She scanned the buffet, where Amy was tucking filled napkins into her purse. Finn, his arms crossed, didn’t eat anything at all. He had his back to the buffet, probably looking for the hot dogs and keg.
Cecelia looked back at Jack and his pink lady. He was feeding her a mushroom cap stuffed with something that must have been delicious because she shut her eyes as she chewed. Jack watched her with such tender concern, Cecelia knew they weren’t going to see her. They weren’t going to see anybody. Her dread was replaced with fascination.
Jack ate his mushroom cap and the pink woman stared up at him, expectant, as if the mushroom held the key to the universe. Jack’s mother checked something off on her paper, but she, like the rest of humankind, was outside the love bubble that enclosed Jack and his new fiancée.
Jack murmured something into his love’s ear. She smiled and took his hand in hers. She was so tiny, so wispy; Cecelia felt for a moment that maybe Amy had conjured her.
A waiter in all black offered Cecelia something brown on a tray and she ate it without tasting. She had come on a whim, a lark, for fun and free food. But Jack was here for real. She had come with a man who couldn’t possibly be part of her future. Jack had come with a woman who obviously adored him as much as he adored her.
And they were planning their wedding.
Regret spread through her into every cell. She didn’t want Jack—but she wanted some of that True Love. And she didn’t want to deny it to Finn.
She looked to the other couples. They were playing the part of rapturous engaged young people. Their moves were too obvious, too scripted. Their smiles and hugs bellowed, “All this and we’re having awesome sex!”
But Jack and his True Love were different. Jack pushed a lock of hair off her face and she looked up. He kissed her gently and she squeezed his arm, then looked away. It was a dance, and only they could hear the music. They were the real thing. True Love.
She was happy for them.
“Is that Jack?” Finn was beside her.
She nodded, but she didn’t look at Finn. She felt hidden at his side.
Jack and his entourage moved toward the buffet.
“Amy—” Cecelia and Finn both said at once.
Then they both said, “Shit.”
But it was too late. Amy was hugging Jack, then his mother, then his new fiancée.
“They probably want her to be their maid of honor,” said Cecelia.
Finn laughed—then grew serious. “They’re looking over here.”
“Oh, God.” Cecelia put on a merry smile and waved. “I’m going to pass out.”
“I have a better idea.” Finn waved too and put his arm around Cecelia.
She continued to smile, but she said, “I don’t want to play games, Finn.”
“Who’s playing games?” he asked. He drew her closer. “I love you.”
Her smile fell. “What?”
“Cecelia, I know you don’t believe in me, but we’ve got something. Can’t you feel it?”
“Sure. I feel it. It’s great sex. It’s fun. I love it. But it’s not—”
Suddenly he was kissing her. A thorough, complete kiss that rocked
her to the soles of her feet. “It is,” he murmured, then kissed her again.
She let herself fall into his kiss. Jack, the pink lady, Amy, Jack’s mother, were forgotten. Why had she cared about them again?
“We’re not like the other couples here. Can’t you feel that?” Finn murmured, not letting her go. “You have to stop believing in Amy and believe in me. Believe in yourself.”
“Cecelia?” Another voice was beside her.
Finn let her go.
“Hello, Jack,” she said, turning to the voice. Her lips still tasted of Finn.
“Can we talk?” Jack asked.
They were alone—as alone as they could get in a packed room, which meant pushed up against a radiator on the wall farthest from the buffet. Jack shook his head at her in wonder. “You found him. I’m so happy for you!”
Cecelia stared at Jack. “I found—?”
“Your True Love! Look at the two of you. The minute I saw you guys together, I could tell. It was like you were in a bubble and the rest of the world was outside it. Isn’t it amazing? Can you believe that we almost missed it?” He was giddier than she’d ever seen him. Come to think of it, she’d never seen him even the slightest bit giddy.
“Sharon—” he began.
“The cat lady from Ohio?” Cecelia asked.
Jack laughed. “Yes! That’s her.” He waved to her and she waved shyly back. “She has changed my life in so many ways,” he went on. “I was living such a lie, Cel. I mean, no offense. But it wasn’t just us. It was everything. Everything that I thought mattered, didn’t matter. I quit my job.”
“You did what?”
“I quit. I’m moving to Ohio. I’m so happy.”
“Ohio?”
“Sharon has a cabin on a lake and I’m going to write a novel, Cel. I’ve always wanted to write a novel and now I’m going to do it. A lawyer-crime thriller. It’s inside me. I can feel it straining to get out. I can’t believe how much of my life I’ve wasted.”
“Who are you?” Cecelia asked. “What have you done with Jack?”
“He’s gone. He was no good.”
Cecelia felt oddly calm. It was all meant to be. “I’m glad you found your One True Love,” Cecelia said.
Make Me a Match Page 21
