“How was your day?” he asks.
“Busy, but productive. Finished a large MS I’ve been working on for a week.”
“MS?” His eyebrows scrunch in confusion.
“Sorry, professional lingo. MS means manuscript.”
His face relaxes and he nods.
“How was your day?”
“School kicked my ass. These shortened summer semesters slam so much together. I lost all track of time until my alert told me it was time to meet you. I didn’t have time to go home and change.”
“You look great!” I say a little too loudly and slap my lips together, feeling heat creep up my face.
He gives me a small smirk that sends my heart back into overdrive. It’s unreal how his presence alone has me bumbling like an idiot. Even when I turned twenty-one and my friends got backstage concert passes to meet Blake Shelton, I never stuttered. They fawned and shed a few tears, but I shook his hand and told him how much I enjoyed his music.
But this man sitting in front of me affects me all the way to my bones. I’m worse than a fifteen-year old at a Justin Bieber concert. At this point, I can’t deny it anymore. As crazy as it sounds, I’m convinced he’s the man Simon was referring to in my dream. And that makes me certifiable because it’s impossible to create a man in your dreams.
“Thanks, but I’d have preferred to change. However, given the risk of being late and missing out on even a minute with you had me rethinking my plans.”
“Really?” I rasp quietly.
“Really,” he confirms.
The screeching of children in the play tubes snaps me out of my fog, and I glance over his shoulder to make sure Winnie is okay.
“So tell me about the MS you finished today.”
“It was a RomCom, which means romantic comedy, for a long-time client. She’s set to publish in six weeks. We’ll do another round after she cleans it up, but this was the critical edit that will hopefully help shape her story.”
“Do you like romantic comedies?”
“I like romance any way I can get it. Simon and Johnny always made fun of me and my addiction to the over-the-top fictional romances. This is a somewhat new adventure for me, though. The book editing fell into my lap. After I graduated, I worked with mostly publications, papers, magazines, and freelance work, helping with special projects.”
“How’d it fall into your lap?” He sits back and extends his legs under the table. One rubs against mine, and that damn tingle circles in the spot his skin touches.
“You know we lost my mom when we were teenagers, right?”
“Yeah, I remembered, but your dad also mentioned it the other day after the funeral. I’m sorry.”
“Thank you. It was rough, but Dad did an incredible job with us. But after she died, I became the woman of the family. When Simon learned he was being deployed, we all gathered together and discussed how we’d help. I was already living in North Carolina to be close to him and Winnie. Luckily, the Marines gave him so much prior notice, we got a good plan together. There was no question Dad would get temporary custody of Winnie until Simon came home, but Johnny and I wanted to be a part of it. So I relocated here with Winnie to start the adjustment. My company was wonderful at first, letting me work from home, but most of my business clients were still in North Carolina. So we worked out a good deal, and they started shooting freelance work my way. It took about six months, but I built up a base of local clients. Eventually, I was able to get some contracts in place. One of the reporters who works with the newspaper contacted me about helping her with her debut novel into the Indie world. It took off from there.”
“Do you like it?”
“Oh yeah, I love it. But even more, I love the life it provides for me. There was no way I was moving back in with Dad at my age. This allows me to be independent and also set my own schedule. For the summer, until we get Winnie into school, she spends two or three nights a week with me.
“Don’t get me wrong, Dad is perfectly healthy, but it’s hard to go from three grown children out of the house to having an energetic four—almost five-year old. And a girl at that. So this schedule allows Dad some time to himself and the ability to keep up his personal life. His law firm also requires a lot of his attention, sometimes into the evening. Johnny also helps a lot.”
“That’s so selfless.”
“I guess, but to me, it’s family. I insisted on this. It’s my promise to Simon. Winnie will grow up in a loving environment with a woman’s influence always around to guide her if needed.”
Finn runs his fingers through his hair and looks at me wearily. “It’s none of my business, but what about her mom?”
There’s the million-dollar question. I think to myself.
“Her name’s Elisa, and she’s still alive, but she gave all custodial rights to Simon. There’s a whole lot more to the story, but I can’t tell you when Winnie is ten feet away and may come busting back here any second. As far as she knows, her mother is a beautiful woman who lives somewhere else. As she gets older, we’ll have to share more, but for now, it works.”
“The woman gave up her child?”
“She did, and we are forever in her debt. It may seem weird to some, but she gave us Winnie, and that little girl inherited the absolute best from both parents.”
“Jesus, you’re even more incredible than I ever imagined. Canine volunteer, doting aunt, loyal sister, concert violinist, the list goes on. Anything else I should know?”
Heat starts to creep up my neck, and my cheeks burn.
“Looks like I can add bashful when complimented to my list.”
“Stop.” I laugh to try to hide my embarrassment. “I think this conversation took a wide turn into deep territory for a first date.”
“I disagree. I could listen to you talk for hours.”
“Well, how about we move onto lighter subjects, considering Winnie is coming out of the playhouse and she’s going to be ‘so hungry’.”
He turns to watch her rushing our way and gets out of the booth when she walks up.
“Hey, little lady, you ready to order?” He bends to help her with her shoes.
“Yes, starving. I worked up a real appetite.” She rubs her stomach dramatically.
He raises an eyebrow to me.
“Finn, Whitney here is quite the actress and has the vocabulary of a much older child.”
“Aunt Presley! My name is Winnie.” She pouts, throwing her hands to her hips.
“No, my dear, your real name is Whitney. Your nickname is Winnie. You must know the difference.”
“Winnie is a better name.”
Finn’s eyes dart between us, and he purses his lips to hide his amusement.
“So my dad and brothers seem to think, Whitney,” I emphasize her name and give her a challenging glare, “gets her sass from me. I deny wholeheartedly.”
“I haven’t seen the sass yet, but I’m inclined to agree she gets something from you. What four-year old can say, with conviction, she’s starving and worked up a real appetite. Someone taught her that.”
“She’s almost five, and it’s widely proven that children who speak and understand a large vocabulary have better social skills.”
“Uh huh, think I may see some of that sass coming out. Time to get dinner.”
I go to stand, but he places a hand on my elbow and stops me. “I’ll get it. Tell me what you want.”
Winnie repeats from memory what we both order, and he walks off. I gawk with appreciation at the form of his body from behind. There’s no doubt he works out with the muscle structure in his long legs. His shirt fits him tightly, pulling against his wide shoulders, and then looser around his waist. I’m so lost in my stare that I don’t divert my attention quick enough when he turns. He catches me red-handed checking him out.
I snap my head away and start to fiddle in my purse, looking for hand sanitizer. When he returns with a full tray of food, I’m almost over my h
umiliation of ogling him and being terribly obvious. Winnie sits across from me like always, and Finn scoots in next to me, brushing my arm and leg several times as he settles and passes out the food.
We eat and listen to Winnie talk incessantly about her summer camp, her new friends, and her desire to start dance classes in the fall. Finn finishes first and leans back, throwing his arm across the back of the seat and settling his hand lightly on my shoulder. It’s a casual move, his fingertips barely brushing my skin, but I feel the touch all the way to my toes. My appetite disappears, and I choke down the food already in my mouth.
Finn’s light touch turns firm, and his body goes stiff. I look at him, but my eyes drift to the man standing at the head of the table.
Oh, fuck! Russell!
“Presley,” he says, his eyes going around the table to take in the scene. They land on Finn’s hand.
“Hello, Russell. How are you?” I try to sound calm. I haven’t seen him since I broke up with him two months ago.
“I’m good. I’m so sorry to hear of your lo—“
There’s a low growl from Finn, and Russell stops mid-sentence. Finn does a small chin jerk toward Winnie, who’s watching him closely. They only met a few times during the months we dated, and he was never interested in our girls’ nights.
Russell understands the silent communication to watch what he says in front of Winnie and clears his throat with the decency to look embarrassed. “What I meant to say was I’ve been thinking about you and your family.”
“Thank you, Russell. That’s nice of you.” I swallow the lump in my throat.
He turns his head and extends his hand. “I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Russell Wayne, a close friend of Presley’s.”
Finn doesn’t remove his hand from my shoulder but lifts his other in greeting.
“Finn Black. I’m Presley’s date.”
Russell’s eyes grow wide in shock, but he doesn’t say anything as Winnie chooses this moment to interrupt.
“Hey, what about me?” She puffs and waves at herself.
What happens next will stay in my brain forever.
Finn reaches across the table and takes her small hand in his, at the same time his grip on my shoulder tightens.
“Pardon me, little miss, I meant I’m lucky enough to have two dates tonight, Presley and Winnie.”
Her little face lights up, and she nods approvingly at me.
Instantly, my heart melts.
Chapter 6
Finn
Who wears a fucking tie to Chick-fil-A on kid’s night? Russell fucking Wayne, that’s who. No matter how hard I try, I can’t block out the way he looked at Presley last night. The desire and heat in his gaze was undeniable. He wants her.
Too fucking bad, asshole.
“One more,” I grunt and push up hard, landing the bench press in the cradle. My arms are on fire and sweat drips down my face as I breathe in deep to steady my heart rate.
Robbie stands behind me, spotting me close with the additional weight I added.
“You wanna tell me what’s on your mind?” He throws a towel on my face.
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit. You can either tell me, or I’ll call Ember and have her trot her ass down here and make you spill.”
“It’s seven-thirty in the morning. She’d kill you for waking her up.”
“She’s already been woken up, but after the workout I gave her, she’s no doubt back asleep. So, yeah, she’ll be pissed, but it’ll be aimed at you.”
“Asshole,” I mutter, sitting up. “But at least you’re a lucky asshole.”
“I know, and I tell her that every damn day. When I wake up with perfection sleeping in my arms, I wonder how I got so lucky.”
“This can’t be happening.” I shake my head at his pussy-whipped philosophy on his new life. “Did you really just say that?”
He gives me a sideways grin and nods. “But don’t change the subject. The threat stands.”
“Fine.” I sigh. “I had a date last night with Presley. Not sure it went well.”
“Why? Did you finally get turned down? Crash and burn? She send you home with blue balls?” He snickers at his own stupid cracks.
“No, you idiot. Things seemed to be going well until her fuckhead ex showed up. Then her attitude changed. She became quiet and stiff. The openness and ease of the night shut down fast.”
“Her ex showed up? On your date?”
“Yeah, which is weird. It doesn’t sit well with me. We were at fucking Chick-fil-A.”
“You took her to Chick-fil-A? No wonder you crashed.”
“Ha-ha. It was her choice. She has a standing date with her niece on Wednesday nights. I asked her out, and she suggested I join them. It wasn’t ideal, but the alternative was to wait until next week, which wasn’t an option.”
“Ahhh.” He motions for me to get up, so he can do his set.
“So we were having a great time. Then there he was, standing at the end of our table. He was not there by coincidence. The way he looked at her was not the look of a man who wants to be an ex.”
“How’d it make you feel?”
“Feel? I saw red. He stood there and had the balls to apologize to her for her loss and didn’t give a shit about the little girl. Didn’t even give her a second glance. Presley’s hands were shaking when she left.”
“Tripp owes me fifty bucks.” Robbie grips the weight and starts to lift.
“What the fuck?”
“Knew it the minute she picked up her violin. Knew it in my fucking bones. You’re a goner.”
“Again, what the fuck?”
“Listen, I’m a happily married man, but even I can appreciate the way that woman looks. Presley is a looker. It’s no surprise she has an ex lurking around. She’s your disease. Tripp said it’d take a month, Max said two months, I gave it a week.”
“I think Ember needs to take you back to your shrink. Obviously, you’re insane.”
“I’m not the only one who noticed. You’re not subtle.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah, and now that you know there’s another man sniffing around, you need to make your move. Regardless if he’s an ex.”
I stay quiet, processing his words. Then an idea hits me. “Come on, man. We need to wrap this up. I’ve got shit to do.”
He stops mid-lift and gives me a knowing grin.
Fuck Robbie, Max, and Tripp. And fuck the damn disease…
Presley: Thank you for the gorgeous flowers, and thank you for including Winnie. She’ll be elated when I pick her up.
I smile at the text and pay for the food, then go back to my car. The whole drive to her place, I hope she doesn’t throw me on my ass.
Her car is in the parking lot, which is a good sign she’s home. I take out my phone, shoot off a message, then hold my breath.
Me: How about lunch?
A few seconds pass, but finally, the response bubbles start moving.
Presley: When?
Me: Now.
Presley: Now?
Me: Yep.
Presley: Where?
Me: Your choice? We could eat at your place or head to the park around the corner.
Presley: My place? Where are you?
Here goes nothing. Please don’t let her think I’m a stalker.
Me: In your parking lot.
The door to her apartment flies open, and she’s standing there with her phone in her hand. I suck in a deep breath at the sight. She’s wearing tight, short shorts and a skimpy tank top. Her hair’s piled on top of her head in a mess of tangles. She’s staring at me with her mouth hanging open and bright, wide eyes.
I step out of the car and raise the bag of food I brought with me. She waves at me to come up.
Thank God.
“Hi,” she says lightly when I get to her side.
“Hi.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Hopefully, surprising you with lunch.”
“I’m definitely surprised.”
“Would you like to eat here, or go someplace else?”
She bites down on her lip and glances behind her with a worried expression. “Umm, we can eat here, but it’s a wreck. We made forts last night and watched a movie. I didn’t have time to clean up yet.”
“I think I can handle a few blankets and pillows strewn about.”
“Well, it’s a little more than that. We may also have attempted to build a castle,” she explains nervously.
“Presley, if you don’t want me in your home, I completely understand. This was a lame attempt to see you again.”
Her nervousness eases, and she gives me a sweet smile. “It wasn’t lame. It was sweet, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She reaches for my free hand and tugs me inside.
I groan at the sight in front of me. What I assume is her living room is an absolute disaster. Blankets, pillows, towels, and clothes cover every inch of the space. “Is that a rug hanging from your ceiling fan?”
“Yes! Little runt insisted we needed a flag for our tower.”
“Oh, God. This is a wreck.”
“I know. I’m so embarrassed.” She lets go of my hand and steps away.
I swing my head to her and jerk her back. “No, babe, don’t be embarrassed. I meant this is a terrible fort and castle. We need to move things around and use the right space to have a castle appropriate for a princess. And you don’t need half of this stuff. We can make it with a portion of these items.”
“What?”
“I’m an excellent fort slash castle maker. Maybe one day I can show you.”
She looks at me blankly then gives me a blinding smile. “You like to build forts?”
“Oh yeah, who doesn’t?”
“We’d love to have your assistance. Then maybe it won’t take two days to clean this up.”
“You tell me when, and I’m here.”
Something flashes on her face, and I don’t miss the appreciation in her eyes. We stare at each other for a long minute until I can’t take it anymore. I move to her quickly and tilt her chin to me. She parts her lips slightly, and I take the small action as an invitation. Lowering my face to hers, I run my lips across her jawline and stop at the corner of her mouth, pecking her softly.
Finn Page 5
