"You all get on really well. We'd be fighting like cats and dogs if the Jacobs' were all in one place like this."
"Oh, that happens too," Finn replied with a laugh, guiding the truck out onto the road. "Not that often, but it's happened. Mostly, it's good having them close when you really need them."
"Like when Noah was having problems?" Emma had told Lily the general gist of Noah's issues when their youngest brother, Gavin, had died. According to her, Finn had been a savior during that particularly dark time. She could see it. Maybe he liked to be left alone, maybe he liked the quiet of working with the horses, but it was obvious how much he cared about his family.
"Exactly. Having everyone close when that was going on was really helpful. Emma, too," he replied. She watched his jaw tighten, his gaze directed ahead, obviously thinking of other times when he'd needed to call upon the closeness of his family for support. "The only downfall is when everyone is so close, not a lot slips past them. Secrets are hard to keep."
"Oh yeah? You're a private kinda guy, huh?"
He glanced over at her then, and she might have imagined it, but she could almost feel the tension of longing, difficult to swallow, in the space between them. From him, from her. She knew what he was saying—their kiss was a secret that would be difficult to keep, and he wasn't interested in it being anything but a secret. He didn't need to answer, because his eyes told her everything, so he didn't.
"But," he continued, shrugging, and suddenly the mood had lightened. "It's a lot like that through this whole town, honestly. Somebody knows you're wiping your ass before you've even thought about it. And sometimes the stories get screwed up."
"Sounds brutal."
"It can be. And hurtful, sometimes. Don't get me wrong. There's not too many people in this town who would intentionally hurt someone else. But there's not much to do but talk, and when the wrong story gets spreading like wildfire, you've got a whole mess of hurt on your hands."
"I guess that's one thing I can like about Denver. Your reputation usually stays intact when you make a mistake."
"Except," he chuckled. "If you're from here and something happens there, everybody here still knows what you did. The news makes it home before you ever do."
"Sounds awful." Lily glanced out her window as Finn signaled a right turn. A ranch, not unlike the one they'd just left, sat back from the road, though there were less outbuildings, and what there were seemed unused.
"It's an acceptable trade-off if you got nothing to hide. So, for about one percent of the population." Laughing, he guided the truck into the yard, where a tall blond man waved from the steps of an older house. Finn nodded toward the figure as he killed the ignition. "There's Cutter."
*
Finn pulled back into the Anderson's driveway a couple hours later to find the pair sitting side by side on the steps with lemonade in hand, laughing like they were the best of friends. He couldn't deny the pang of jealousy that tightened his gut when he saw it. Cutter was unaffected by the rumor mill he'd told Lily about earlier. Or, people would talk, but it wouldn't matter, because working at the town's only bar, Cutter would have the opportunity to squash talk, or shape it into the truth. Finn, on the other hand, would have no opportunity to test his ability to kindle his feelings without a huge speculative magnifying glass on him.
He turned his truck and pulled up to the steps, rolling down his window.
"How'd you make out?"
"Good!" Lily said, rising and handing her glass off to Cutter before dusting off the seat of her jeans. Finn caught Cutter's eyes drifting to her fingers and that green monster rose up again. "I think I got some great shots. Easy when the stock is good."
He'd all but forgotten, watching her around the ranch as she shot things that weren't livestock more often than not, that this was her bread and butter.
"The time flew by," Cutter said, rising slow from his seated position and approaching Finn's window as Lily crossed in front of the truck and climbed into the passenger seat. "Easy when you've got good company." He stuck his head in the window and passed a wink at Lily. When Finn glanced back at her, she'd blushed a little.
Cutter was a persuasive guy and Finn didn't doubt he'd spent a good part of their time together charming her. Growing up, he'd always been the most at ease with girls, and there had never been any shortage. He was slick but not disrespectful, and it could probably have been attributed to growing up with two sisters. These days, he was usually so focused on the batch of random jobs he held down, including tending bar at Danny's and the dance hall it seemed he didn't have time to juggle a half dozen completely enchanted girls like he had in his youth. Unless, of course, Finn delivered one right to his doorstep.
Lily leaned forward and smiled past Finn; that soft, sweet smile he'd thought to be for only him. "I'll bring you by a memory stick with all the photos once I'm done editing. A day, two, maybe, tops."
"Lookin' forward to it." Cutter tipped the hat he wasn't wearing.
Like he wasn't even there. Finn reached for the shifter, putting it in first and letting the engine whine while he let up on the clutch.
"Alright, alright," Cutter continued, tapping his palm against the door of the truck. "See ya later Finn. Lily."
She waved and Finn pulled out.
"I thought you two were friends," Lily said as he pulled out the end of the driveway.
"What makes you think we're not friends?"
"Your curmudgeon was showing." She grinned and leaned back in her seat, pushing her hips forward and letting her arm hang out the window, considerably more relaxed than she had been on the drive out. He was, too, after a stop at Hinkley's for pie and then a visit to the store his parents ran. He hadn't actually been intending to come into town, but sometimes he just needed to get off the ranch, and this happened to be one of those times.
He laughed. "I see Emma has been influencing your opinion of my personality."
"Never," she said, turning her face to hide her guilty smile.
"Curmudgeon is definitely her word."
"Maybe she's swayed my opinion a little." Their teasing had produced a pretty blush on her high cheekbones. "But you've done a pretty good job convincing me, yourself."
He was jealous; he had no right to be, and he'd never admit it out loud. Emma had said she needed some good in her life, and maybe Cutter Anderson would be just that good thing she needed. Simple, uncomplicated, easy. Something she could relax into, the goodness she deserved.
—NINETEEN—
Lily tried to swallow, but her mouth was full of blood. Her legs were pinned between something hot and heavy and the cold, wet ground. The squealing of a car engine right next to her ear drove her nearly to insanity. Shivering, she looked down at her legs, both of which were trapped under a big, black mass of horse. She wanted to call for help, but she couldn't make a sound. The engine knocked under the hood and the only thing she could think was the car would explode and they'd all be killed. Her breaths came quick and painful, then interrupted by sobs that hiccuped through her diaphragm.
"Lily."
Hearing her name, she struggled to lift her head but found she couldn't. The knocking of the engine grew more insistent, and she flinched away from the noise. And suddenly, there were hands, lifting her, drawing her out of the mud, sliding her legs out from under Encore's lifeless body, and against a warm, firm chest. Big hands held her close, stroking her hair, and the steady thud of a heart under her ear.
She couldn't have mistaken the fresh, clean male scent of Finn. Her fingers found purchase in the thin material of a t-shirt, and with some effort, she pried her eyes open. Slowly, she became aware of each part of her body, the quiet of the spare room she'd been staying in, and the implication of Finn Baylor holding her.
"Shh, just breathe, love." The rumble of each word under her cheek unlaced the tension that had seized her, and instead of being embarrassed he'd caught her twice, now, in the middle of a full blown panic attack, she gave herself permission to relax.
He sat on the edge of her bed in his boxers and t-shirt, and had drawn her right out of it, into his lap, cradling her against his chest like a child. He shifted back, but still held her close to his chest.
"Close your eyes, I'm going to turn on the light," he murmured, and she followed his direction as he stretched toward the bedside lamp.
Slowly, she opened her eyes again, and lifted her head to look at Finn. They were closer than was comfortable considering their relationship, but he didn't let her go. His hair stuck out in every direction and his slate eyes looked tired, but were full of concern, and something else, lurking just behind the empathy. She'd never been more grateful for his closeness.
She saw her fingers on his stubbled jaw before she even realized she was lifting her hand. He froze, watching her, and then let out a pent-up breath when she slid her fingertips to cup his jaw, the rough hair scratching her palm.
"Lily…" His voice was tight, controlled.
And then he wasn't, and his mouth was covering hers, the hand that had been stroking her hair moving to the base of her neck to tip her head back. She was surprised at first, but then fell into the kiss like it was the most natural thing to do. The hand on her waist dropped to her hip, his fingers pressing into the soft flesh there and drawing her closer. She couldn't get close enough.
She'd discovered Finn to be a careful man 99 percent of the time; the things he did were calculated, thought out well in advance, and purposeful. It was the one percent, the moment she was experiencing right now, as she tasted the spearmint of his toothpaste and the rawness of his emotion, that she liked to see the most. It was the whoop of joy when Tessa accomplished something new in her riding lesson, the quiet burst of tenderness toward his nephew and his nieces, and the scorching kiss that had taken her by surprise the first night she'd stayed here. Those were the moments she relished, the moments where he hadn't exactly thought out what would happen next, carefully choreographing his path to choose what parts of his hand he would show. This was one of those moments.
Her fingers knotted into his shirt at his waist when he strayed from her mouth, drawing his lips across her jaw, slipping her earlobe between his teeth for a gentle tug. He stopped then, his face buried at her hairline just behind her ear, and he drew in a long breath.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry," she whispered, her heart aching. She didn't want him to be sorry for kissing her, because an apology meant he didn't want to. And if he didn't want to, that meant she shouldn't have enjoyed it as much as she did. His kiss was like a breath of air when she needed to fill her lungs.
Uncurling her fingers from his shirt, she slid her hands over his back, up to his shoulders, and held her body against his, absorbing the heat and the emotion the best she could. There was pain in his apology, and she didn't know how to soothe it. She felt his breath drain out of him, and the arm around her waist tightened.
*
Finn lifted his head and dropped his lips to the top of Lily's hair.
The first sound of crying had jerked him awake like a shot. He'd become the lightest sleeper when Sunny was on hospice care in the spare room, and it had never gone away. Not often, but sometimes, she would cry out in her sleep and he'd be out of bed before he even knew what had woken him. Tonight had been exactly the same. Except this wasn't his wife. This was the woman who had infiltrated almost every aspect of his life in less than two weeks, whether she had intended to or not. And she was soft, and warm, and tasted like home.
And now she was holding him, the opposite of how it probably should have been. He drew back and traced his thumb over the tear tracks on her cheeks.
"You were crying."
The smile she put on didn't reach her eyes. "Bad dream."
"Does this happen a lot?"
She blew a breath out between tight lips, her expression locked down. She didn't want to talk, but if he was going to be losing sleep on a regular basis, she was going to have to.
"Sometimes."
"Just like whatever that was that happened to you the day we saddled Encore."
"Yes."
"Lily, have you ever talked to someone about this?"
Her lips pressed together and then the lower one snagged between her teeth, a little line forming between her eyebrows.
"It's not a big deal…"
"It's no way to live."
He was the last person to be giving advice on how to live, considering how he'd thrown himself into the ranch work after Sunny's death. It had been too much to handle all at once, and he wasn't the type to pour his heart out while a medical professional tried to fit his grief into a box with a label. But that worked for some people, and if it took away nightmares and whatever it was that had happened outside the round pen when he'd had to physically hold her together, he wanted that for Lily.
She swallowed but didn't respond.
"What can I do for you right now?" he asked. Obviously, he could try to talk her into Dr. Fields' office, but that would require daylight hours. He winced when he glanced at the clock on the bedside stand. 3am. Morning would be here before long, and they both needed some sleep. He'd do whatever it took.
Her gaze searched his for an agonizing moment. And then she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "Stay."
He hadn't shared his bed with anyone since Sunny. But this wasn't his bed, either.
"Okay."
Finally loosening his grip, he guided her back into the bed, under the covers. She wore a pair of tiny shorts and a giant t-shirt that barely stayed on her shoulders. She shifted, turning her back to him, and he slid in behind her. Close but not touching. Glancing over her shoulder, she motioned for him to get closer.
Tucking himself in against her soft body, he slid his hand tentatively over her hip, his fingers grazing over a soft stretch of skin where her shirt had ridden up, just above the waistband of her shorts. She shivered, but pushed herself back into him, twisting her fingers into his and wrapping herself up in his arms like a blanket. Her silky hair tickled his face, her scent intoxicating him.
She let out a soft breath—a satisfied sigh, barely audible. She would sleep well, but he had no idea how he'd be able to turn off his adrenaline, or his desire.
—TWENTY—
"Um, good morning."
Lily let out a yelp from where she was crouched down beside Finn's kitchen table. She'd assumed he was gone for the day, like usual, but there he was, nearly giving her a heart attack, standing just inside the door in his work clothes. She'd just snuck out of the bedroom in her sleep clothes to turn on the coffee maker, but then she'd gotten distracted by a fat, yellow wedge of sunlight spread over one corner of his battered table. Before she knew it, she'd grabbed her camera and put a pretty handmade ceramic mug in the space, pants be damned.
He hadn't noticed her right away because he was halfway across the floor, frozen in place, his eyes fixed on her bare legs poking out from under the oversized t-shirt she wore. She could feel a blush rising up her neck. Finn had looked at her in a lot of different ways in the time she'd been here on the ranch—sardonically, flippantly, even fearfully, once—but this was totally different. She was torn between covering herself and letting him look as long as he liked. She could almost physically feel a flicker of that same fiery intensity from the night he'd kissed her on her skin as if it were his fingers themselves.
She couldn't even halfway explain why a man who had only shown her brief kindness elicited this kind of response from her body, but she'd woken alone this morning, warm, and happy, with a low simmer in her belly when she thought about the taste of him and the gentleness of his hands as he'd held her through the night. Apart from her photos and her horse, it was about the only thing she could think about, especially when she woke and knew he'd been there.
After what felt like forever, but really could only have been three heartbeats, he cleared his throat and diverted his eyes and the heat in the room dropped a few degrees.
"I'm so sorry," she said
all at once. "I lost track of time and thought you were out for the day."
"No, I'm sorry. I…" he floundered, gesturing loosely with his hands.
"You don't have to apologize, Finn. I'm a guest. I shouldn't be wandering around half naked."
His gaze shot to hers for a moment, almost panicked by the word naked, and edged backward toward the door. She eased herself in the direction of the bedroom, with her hands raised, walking backward, like he was some kind of frightened animal.
"Don't leave, have a coffee," she insisted. "I was going to bring you one in the barn anyway."
She heard Finn sigh as she slipped into her bedroom, her face hot and red. How embarrassing, waltzing around like she belonged here. She shoved her legs into sweats and re-emerged to find Finn fixing himself a cup, like she'd instructed him.
"I'm sorry," she apologized again, twisting her hair into a messy bun high on her head. "I just…the light was perfect."
"Ah," he said gruffly, seating himself at the table. She retrieved her own mug from the corner and clasped it between her hands, standing for a moment, and then deciding to sit. "An artist who can't resist their medium."
"Three weeks ago, I would have walked past that and thought 'oh that's pretty', because I'd have bulls and broncs on my mind." She smiled across the top of her mug at him. "I'm doing way more artistic work here than I have in years, and I think it's just snowballing."
A slow, easy grin spread over Finn's lips as he finally seemed to relax. "As long as I don't come to the barn to find you taking pictures of a pile of manure…"
Lily laughed out loud, and shook her head. "I think I can respect that."
"On that note, you interested in some new models?"
She cocked her head, watching him carefully. "I'm listening."
"There's someone coming by the ranch this afternoon that could use a little dose of the feel-goods your photos seem to give."
Secondhand Heart Page 12
