The Comeback Kiss

by Lani Diane Rich

  He’d been much, much smarter then than he was now.

  Finn looked down the length of the alley, the back of which jutted up against the parking lot of Max’s, the two spaces separated only by a cheap metal guardrail and some trees thinned by the winter. He had to get out of there before Tessa saw the car and announced his presence in town.

  Tessa. He could still see her face in his mind. Light freckles sprinkled over nose and cheeks. Blushed lips. Chocolate brown eyes that flashed murder when provoked. Oval-shaped face framed by thick dark curls she always complained about but never cut. Something coursed through him, and it took a moment for him to recognize it as a mixture of regret and excitement.

  Over a girl he hadn’t seen in ten years; a girl who would probably kill him with her bare hands given half a chance.

  He pulled up the collar of his jacket around his face and hunched into it as he headed out to the sidewalk. If he could get to the edge of town, he could probably hole up in the shack next to the lake until he figured a way out of town that didn’t involve relying on Babs friggin’ McGregor, which had been just one in a long string of mistakes he’d made in recent months.

  Well, it was over. The stupidity, the guilt, and the lame attempt at making up for something that couldn’t be made up for. From now on, he was the old Finn, the smart Finn, the Finn who moved through life free and easy, letting the past stay in the past.

  Head down, he took a left out of the alley and kept his eyes on his feet. It wasn’t until he smelled the smoke that he slowed down and looked up. At first, he couldn’t tell where it was coming from, and he was about to dismiss it as someone’s fireplace smoke when he heard panicked sounds coming from across the street. He grazed his eyes over the buildings there and saw smoke creeping out from under one of the doors, then lifted his focus to the sign over the awning.

  FOR PET’S SAKE.

  I should let it burn down just for the name alone, he thought. He looked down the street one way and then the other. No one. Nothing. He heard what sounded like a high-pitched bark, and saw that the smoke creeping out from under the door was thickening.

  Something in FOR PET’S SAKE was definitely on fire.

  Hopefully, it was the person who’d named it.

  “Well,” he muttered to himself as he felt the struggle between smart and stupid start to stir within him. “Shit.”

  Chapter Two

  Finn clenched his fists in his pockets, decided that smart was gonna win this time, and started walking in the direction he’d been heading. It was early, but he was sure someone would be coming by soon. Someone who belonged here, someone who cared about what happened in Lucy’s Lake.

  Someone not him. He had bigger problems to think about right now, like how he was going to convince the car rental place in Brattleboro to deliver a car to him out in the middle of friggin’ nowhere.

  He’d made a few long, determined strides before the barking grew louder, more frenzied. Finn grunted and stopped again, looking impatiently up and down the deserted street.

  “Christ,” he muttered. “What the hell is wrong with you people?”

  He stepped out into the street and glanced at the apartment windows above the offices for the Lucy’s Lake Weekly, just three buildings down from the pet store. Back in the day, Stella Hodgkiss had owned the Weekly; probably still did. Seemed fitting that the same woman who knew when the mayor’s wife farted in church showed no sign of waking up when the damn town was on fire.

  Finn looked back to the pet shop. He hated pet shops. During his bird thieving days he’d worked in one to get leads on the good, rare birds, and it had sucked. Full of weird dogs that seemed to be bred for funky looks and nervous urination, big-eyed fish that died the moment people got them home, and hairless cats that were even uglier than regular cats. He’d be doing the town a favor if he just kept walking.

  He took one more step, then stopped and closed his eyes.

  “Shit,” he grumbled, then turned on one heel and darted across the street. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed 911. Two rings sounded, followed by a woman’s voice.

  “Nine-one-one, what’s your—”

  “FOR PET’S SAKE is on fire. Get someone down here now, or Max is gonna have to get some creative dog-meat specials on the menu.”

  There was a rustling as the woman put her hand over the receiver and yelled to someone that the pet store was on fire, then came back on the line. “They’re on their way. Who’s calling, please?”

  Finn flipped the phone shut and picked up the pace as he stepped up on the sidewalk in front of the store. A sign in the window read, Closed for Vacation until Feb. 16. Through the window, he could see orange light flickering through the crack under the office door at the back, which meant the fire was probably mostly contained in there, for the moment. The smoke was another story; it filled the store, thicker toward the ceiling but still menacing even down low.

  Finn looked around for something he could use to break the glass panes in the front door. There was nothing. He tightened his gloved hand into a fist and slammed it through the pane, then reached in and undid the lock. The smoke hit him hard in the face as he entered, and he ducked back outside to take a big breath of fresh air before putting the collar of his jacket over his mouth and running in.

  From what he could tell, it should be quick work. There were two puppies and a few kittens in cages along one wall, and some birds squawking in the back. He headed to the birds first, as they were closest to the fire.

  African grays, he thought, grabbing a cage in each hand and mentally calculating how much he’d get for the pair on the street in Manhattan as he carried them outside.

  Not that he was going to steal them. It was just that old habits die hard. And the market was glutted with grays, anyway.

  He darted back inside, searched under the register for the keys to the animal crates. He unlocked them, letting a springer spaniel and a shih tzu puppy loose. Another dog, some kind of border collie mutt mixture, was barking by the office door as the puppies ran around Finn’s legs like frantic, furry bumper cars. Moments later he chased the dogs out, carrying two more birdcages with him. One of them was filled with common parakeets not worth stealing, but the other cage held a macaw that looked young and in relatively good health, smoke inhalation notwithstanding.

  Macaws still got a decent price in New York. He’d bet they’d get about the same in a place like, say, Boston.

  He set the macaw off to the side, slightly behind a wrought-iron bench in front of the drugstore next to the pet shop. He’d sworn he’d never do another bird job, but it wasn’t every day that a macaw just dropped in his lap.

  And Smart Finn? Would absolutely steal that bird.

  When the fire truck finally arrived three minutes later, he was carrying out the last of the animals, two small kittens that had been frolicking in the front window display.

  “The fire’s in the back office,” he said to Matt Tarpey, a big hulk of a guy who’d been the fire chief since Finn was a kid. “Door’s closed, but a few more minutes, there won’t be a door.”

  Tarpey shouted some orders to his guys, who went to work pulling out the hose as people started to gather in the street. Finn ducked back toward the bench to make his escape with the macaw, then remembered he was still holding the kittens. He turned back and was instantly blinded by a flashing camera. He blinked a few times to get his vision back, and when he did, he saw Stella from the Lucy’s Lake Weekly.

  So much for slipping out of town unnoticed, he thought.

  “Dermot Finnegan,” she said, her beady little eyes locking on him as she released the camera slung around her neck. “I could just kill you with my own two hands.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Get in line. Better yet, take these kittens off my hands, and I’ll save you the trouble by kicking my own ass out of town. No mob required.”

  Stella’s face suddenly flashed into a smile as she moved forward and put her hand on his shoulder. Start
led, Finn instinctively flinched back, taking a moment to process that her expression held none of the hatred and vitriol he was expecting.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said. “I was supposed to be keeping an eye on the place while Vickie was away, and—” Stella put her hand to her mouth, eyes moist, then clutched it to her chest. “I didn’t even wake up until I heard the fire truck. Thank you.”

  Finn shrugged. “No problem. Well. See ya.”

  Stella grabbed his hand and squeezed it, smiling up at him. “Why didn’t you tell us you were coming home? I would have made you a dinner.”

  Finn tried to recall if he’d ever heard “made you a dinner” used as a euphemism for “beat you with a tire iron.” Before he could respond, she threw her arm around his neck and hugged him.

  “I haven’t forgotten what you did for Frank and me,” she said quietly into his ear. “And now this...” The kittens mewed and she pulled back, her eyes now full-on teary. “It’s so good to have you home again.”

  Finn blinked, tossed a look at the macaw behind him, then looked back at Stella. “What I did for... what?”

  She sniffed. “Oh, don’t be so modest. Although I don’t know how in the world you found out exactly the amount of our deductible for his foot surgery. We never would have been able to afford it without you, even with the insurance. Seven hundred and fifty dollars is a lot of money to people like us.” She squeezed his hand again, and Finn felt a stab of panic that he was in the social clutches of a Stella gone mad, as he had no idea what the hell she was talking about.

  She sniffed again. “Your uncle will be so happy to see you.”

  “You know what?” Finn said quickly. “Maybe don’t tell Max.”

  “Oh, of course, you want to surprise him,” Stella said, wiping at the edges of her eyes. “But don’t wait too long. News travels fast around here, you know.”

  Finn stared down at her. Stella had to be in her sixties, but her eyes were still as bright and sharp as ever. When had she lost her mind? Not that it mattered. He’d been gone a long time, and what had happened in Lucy’s Lake in the interim was not his deal. His deal was getting gone again, and if he could just distract Stella for one minute, he could probably get gone with that macaw...

  “Hey, there’s Matt Tarpey,” Finn said, holding out the kittens to her and motioning toward the fire truck with his head. “Get him with the kittens. Talk about a money shot. The Pulitzer people’ll be eating out of your hand.”

  “Oh, Tarpey gets plenty of press!” she said, taking a step back and aiming her camera at Finn. “You’re the hero of this piece. Let me get a few more pictures. You looked a little startled when I took that first one.”

  “No kidding,” he said flatly, holding the kittens and pulling on a tight smile. Behind Stella he could see a crowd starting to gather, distracted for the moment by the bright fire engine. He sighed. If he was going to get that macaw and get out of there, he had to move fast.

  Stella flashed the camera at him a few more times, and he stepped forward and pushed the kittens at her.

  “Great to see you, Stella. Give my love to Frank,” he said, taking a step backward.

  “Wait. Let me get these to a safe place and I’ll come right back.” Stella grinned at him. “Don’t think you’re getting out of that dinner.”

  Finn grinned back. “I can smell the pot roast already.” Stella turned toward the fire truck with the kittens. Finn scanned the crowd; no one was watching him. He dipped down and his fingers were just grazing the handle on the macaw cage when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He closed his eyes and cursed under his breath, then turned to face the person who’d come up behind him.

  “Well,” he said as he looked into deep brown eyes, flashing murder at him.

  ***

  “Shit,” Tessa said, withdrawing her hand from Finn’s shoulder. She’d hoped it wouldn’t be him, that somehow all the evidence that Finn had returned was wrong, but she couldn’t really feign surprise. She paused for a moment, waiting for the heart attack and the panic and all that nonsense, but instead, she just felt kind of numb. This was not how she had imagined this moment. She thought she’d be panicked, babbling, unable to string one coherent thought together. But she was actually feeling pretty calm.

  “Dermot Finnegan,” she said slowly. He smiled down at her, cocking his head to the side as he did.

  “Contessa Scuderi...” he began, feeding on an old joke that was never funny in the first place.

  "Tessa,” she said. “Don’t start with that crap.”

  “...mistress of all she surveys.”

  His eyes connected with hers, and she felt that hitch in her chest and where the hell did that come from and she had to get him out of here or someone would figure out Finn wasn’t the person she’d told them he was and...

  Ah, hello. Here’s the panic. She placed her hand over her chest, felt her heart bouncing around in her rib cage like a straitjacketed mental patient in a rubber room. Yep, that’s about how I imagined this moment.

  Finn put down the birdcage he was holding and touched her arm. “You okay? You don’t look good.”

  “I can’t breathe,” she said.

  “I have that effect on women,” Finn said, grinning down at her. “Don’t worry. It’ll pass.”

  “It’s not you, you big idiot,” she spat.

  “You gotta let me flatter myself, Tess,” he said. “If I don’t do it, who will?”

  He smiled down at her with total focus, making her feel like the only person in his world.

  Just like old times.

  She looked up into his crystal blue eyes, which were laughing, as usual, never taking anything seriously, not even her.

  Just like old times.

  She put her hand to her forehead. She had to think. She had to think fast.

  “Tessa?” he said, his voice suddenly tentative and concerned. She felt something tweak inside, followed by a rush of something powerful and oddly not pissed off. Which wasn’t possible. If it felt even remotely good to see him then that meant she’d missed him, and if she’d missed him then that meant she still felt something for him, and if she still felt something for him...

  Well, she just didn’t. And that was that.

  “We have to talk,” she said quickly. She took a few steps down a side street, away from the crowd. It would afford them a few minutes of privacy, and that was all she needed. Just enough time to somehow convince him to leave and never come back. When Finn caught up to her, she turned and looked up at him.

  “What are you doing here?” she shot out in a harsh whisper.

  “Being a hero, apparently,” he said, tucking his hands into his pockets, and giving her his trademark lopsided smile. “Concrete proof that wonders never do cease. How’d you find me?”

  “Saw the car. Smelled the smoke. Put two and two together.”

  “Hey.” Finn’s eyebrows locked together in what appeared to be sincere indignation, but with Finn you never could tell. “I didn’t set the place on fire.”

  Tessa gave a dismissive wave. “Whatever. Look. I don’t have much time—”

  “I busted into a burning building and saved those animals.” He held out his arm, showing off the singed area on the elbow of his jacket. “Life. Limb. Risked. Credit?”

  “Whatever,” she said again, talking low and fast. “I can’t tell you everything because there just isn’t time, but the Reader’s Digest version is that I’ve led everyone in this town to believe you’re some kind of benevolent hero, and if you don’t get out of here, you’ll completely screw up my life. Again. So... bye.”

  “Benevolent hero?” Finn said. “Is that why Stella Hodgkiss invited me over for dinner?”

  “She invited you to dinner?” Tessa put one hand over her stomach. “Oh, God. Pepto moment. You didn’t say yes, did you?”

  “Tessa...” He stared at her, looking both amused and confused. “What’s going on?”

  Tessa sighed, glanced over her shoulder, the
n leaned in and spoke without moving her lips. “The town bell.”

  Finn laughed. “The town what?”

  “Agh!” she said, whacking him on the shoulder. “Keep your voice down.”

  Finn continued to chuckle, and she couldn’t believe how difficult it was to fight the desire to clock him one across the chin. This must be what it feels like to be a man...

  Finn regained himself. “Look, I know it was probably a big deal to these people when we stole the town bell—”

  “Shhhh!”

  “—but they were the idiots who left it out in the open on a trailer to wait for the repairman. They were begging us to steal it. And they got it back. No harm, no foul.”

  Tessa narrowed her eyes at him. “No harm? They got it back three months later. After you dumped it in Manhattan. Meanwhile, I’m back here fighting off the friggin’ Spanish Inquisition. Big foul, Finn. Big. Damn. Foul.”

  “Well, no one expects the Spanish Inquisition,” Finn deadpanned.

  “Look,” she said, ignoring his joke, “I don’t know why you brought my Thing back, but if you’re looking for forgiveness, you know what? You’ve got it. Now, make it up to me by leaving and never, ever coming back, okay?”

  She glanced over his shoulder nervously, although she couldn’t see the crowd from where she stood. Didn’t matter. It wouldn’t be long before the distraction wore off and people came looking for Finn. The Big Hero. Lucy’s Lake’s own personal Guardian Angel.

  Finn cocked his head to the side and eyed her, a playful smile forming on his lips. “Can’t.”

  Panic gripped her at her edges. “Can’t? Why can’t? What can’t? You got here. Get gone.”

  “I don’t have a car.”

  She pulled out the silver key chain, stuffing it in his hand. “It’s at the house, right where you left it. I don’t know why you brought it here in the first place, but I don’t want it, so you take it. Shoo. Go away.”

  He recoiled. “Shoo? What am I, a dog now?”

  “No. Dogs are loyal. Now go.”

  He put the keys back in her hand and closed her fingers over them, all traces of amusement gone from his face. “You don’t want it, fine. Then sell it. But it’s yours and I’m not taking it.”