Could Be Forever: (Finn and Juliet) (A Back to Jetty Beach Romance Book 1)

by Claire Kingsley

He laughs. “Yeah, I think I can squeeze you in. Hang on.”

  I wait a minute before he gets back on the line.

  “I can get you in at seven,” he says. “Do you want to order from the menu, or do you want me to handle it?”

  “I definitely want you to handle it,” I say. “Just no shellfish. And it’s her birthday.”

  “Nice,” he says. “But since when do you have a date? Didn’t I just see you last night?”

  “Yeah, she came into the pub after you left,” I say.

  “Wow,” he says. “All right, I have you all set for seven. Do you want wine?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay, we’ll have it all ready for you,” he says.

  “Dude, you are the man,” I say. “Thank you for this.”

  “No problem,” he says. “Shit, I have to go.”

  Gabe hangs up and I want to do a fist pump. The Ocean Mark is the best restaurant on the coast and when Gabe says he’ll handle it, that means good things. And seven is perfect. The sun should be just going down, so the view will be amazing.

  I say goodbye to the staff and head home to get ready. I really hope Juliet has a good time tonight. Regardless of whether this goes anywhere, I want her to have the best fucking birthday of her life.

  9

  Juliet

  “Seriously, Jules, how hard can this decision be?” Madison asks.

  She and Becca are curled up on my bed, still wrapped in their blankets, while I go through the outfits they packed. They’re both getting their normal color back, and they say they don’t feel too bad. Mostly tired. I’m so relieved they’re getting better.

  “It’s a very hard decision,” I say. “I’m totally not prepared for this.”

  “What about the black dress?” Becca says. “We packed it for going out.”

  “Yeah, it’s the obvious choice,” I say. “And I can wear the heels I wore for the photo shoot. But what do I wear under the dress?”

  “Holy shit, Jules,” Madison says. “Do you think this is going to end with him taking your clothes off?”

  “No, that’s not what I mean,” I say. “We just met. But you know me, I like to be prepared for everything.”

  “Well, you literally don’t own boring bras and panties,” Becca says. “Do you even know the bliss that is plain cotton?”

  I hold up a light pink bra with lace trim and a little black bow in the center. “Wearing nice things under my clothes makes me feel pretty. So what?”

  “My point is, you can’t go wrong with any of this,” Becca says, gesturing at the selection I’ve laid out at the foot of the bed.

  Number of times I’ve changed my mind about my undergarments for this evening: eight.

  “Okay, I think these.” I hold up a black lace bra and matching panties. “They’re classic, but sexy. And they don’t give me weird lines under that dress.”

  “Important consideration,” Madison says.

  The girls roll off my bed and leave me to get changed. I hop in the shower to rinse off and when I get out, I’m glad to see they remembered to pack my jasmine lotion. I waffle over my bra and panties for another couple of minutes and my eyes dart to the black box with the pink ribbon. That sheer one-piece looked sexy as hell on me…

  Stop it, Juliet. You just met him.

  I dry and straighten my hair, do my makeup, and slip on the dress. It’s soft and the fabric has a bit of stretch to it, so it clings to my curves just enough. I give myself a once over in the mirror. Is this too much? I’m not wearing a lot of makeup, but it’s more than I had on earlier today. I look like I’m ready for a date. That’s what this is, right? He did say he’d like me to dress up for dinner.

  I’m agonizing about this too much, and he’s going to be here any minute.

  “Damn,” Madison says when I come out of my room. She and Becca are back to lying on the couch. “I forgot how fucking amazing that dress looks on you. We did good, Becca.”

  “Yeah we did,” Becca says.

  “Thanks, you guys,” I say.

  “I never thought I’d be glad to get food poisoning, but now that I’m no longer relegated to the bathroom, this is kind of awesome,” Madison says. “Listen Jules, we are not waiting up for you tonight. It’s your birthday, so have a great time and don’t worry about us for a second.”

  “We’re just going out to dinner,” I say.

  “Yeah, a dinner date, and who knows what else,” Madison says.

  “I don’t want to rain on this we’re happy for Juliet parade,” Becca says. “But I have to mention that if you need an out, or if things get weird, we’ll have our phones handy. We can pretend to be sick again if you need a reason to bail.”

  Madison looks at Becca like she just sprouted a second head.

  “What? I know, I saw him too,” Becca says. “But none of us know much about him, and I want Juliet to be safe.”

  “I put condoms in her purse,” Madison says. “That’ll keep her safe.”

  My mouth drops open. “Madison!”

  “Hey, I’m just saying,” Madison says. “I know I’m not directly responsible, but if you get laid tonight, I still get at least half credit.”

  “I’m not getting laid tonight,” I say. “You guys are making me nervous.”

  There’s a knock at the door and my eyes widen.

  “I think that’s your date,” Madison says, wiggling her eyebrows at me.

  I take a deep breath. “Okay, I’m going. I’ll text if I’m going to be late.”

  “Have fun, birthday girl,” Becca says. “We love you.”

  “Love you guys, too,” I say.

  My heart races as I open the front door. Finn smiles at me, showing off his dimples. He looks adorable in a charcoal sweater and dark slacks. His hair looks freshly washed, but still kind of messy.

  “Wow,” he says. “You look beautiful.”

  Swoon count: infinity.

  “Thank you.”

  “Are you ready?” he asks, gesturing to his car.

  I shoulder my purse. “Yes, definitely.”

  I follow him out to his car and he opens the door for me. As we drive to the restaurant, there’s tension between us that wasn’t there earlier today. Or maybe it’s anticipation. I try not to fiddle with my purse or check my phone. He keeps both hands on the wheel, but I notice his eyes flicking over to me. He’s definitely looking at my legs. I hide a smile as I re-cross my legs, letting the dress slide up my thigh just a little. Finn clears his throat.

  We get to the restaurant and he puts his hand on the small of my back when we walk inside. His touch sends a renewed rush of tingles through me.

  The host seats us, but doesn’t leave menus. Moments later, the waiter comes out with a bottle of wine and pours. Finn seems unsurprised by all of it.

  “How am I supposed to order?” I ask. “He didn’t give us a menu.”

  “I told you, I know the chef,” Finn says. “He said he’d handle it. And don’t worry. I told him no shellfish.”

  Normally, I would hate not being able to order my own dinner. I like to peruse the menu, weigh my choices, and decide what I want. It also gives me a chance to customize my order if I need to. But I’m so relaxed with Finn, I don’t mind. It’s very unlike me.

  “Okay, I’ll just have to trust you,” I say.

  “You should,” Finn says with a grin. “Oh, I got you something.” He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a small package wrapped in plain paper and tied with a blue ribbon.

  I take it from him. “What is this?”

  “It’s no big deal,” he says. “Just a little present.”

  I unwrap the package to find a small day-planner. It’s pink and the cover is decorated with a cupcake topped with sprinkles. I stare at it for a second, so surprised I can’t respond.

  “I know it’s kind of cutesy with all the pink, but I saw it and couldn’t resist,” he says. “And you said you like to be organized, so…”

  I flip through the pages. It’s adorable
. “This is so thoughtful. I love planners.”

  He smiles. “I thought you might.”

  I tuck it into my purse and meet Finn’s eyes. “Thank you.”

  The waiter brings an appetizer—crisp little pastry cups with a creamy spinach filling. They’re delicious. The tension I felt in the car melts away as we drink wine and talk, enjoying the food as it comes out. The salad is topped with a huckleberry vinaigrette that is to die for, and when the main course comes, I have to stop myself from drooling. Seared beef medallions with roasted asparagus. It’s amazing.

  “So, what do you think?” Finn asks.

  “This might be the best meal I’ve ever eaten,” I say.

  Finn smiles. “Good. That’s what I was hoping for. Gabe is talented.”

  “Please thank him for me,” I say. “For fitting us in, and for this amazing food. This is so great.”

  We talk for a while longer after we finish our dinner, sipping more wine. He’s so easy to talk to, I find myself telling him a lot about myself—things like my distant relationship with my parents and the pressures of owning my own business. He shares more about his dad, and what it’s been like taking over his pub. The wine is almost gone when a man in a chef’s coat comes out.

  “Evening,” he says and shakes hands with Finn. He holds his hand out to me. “I’m Gabriel. I hope you’ve enjoyed your meal.”

  “Hi, I’m Juliet.” I take his hand and shake. “Yes, thank you so much. This has been incredible.”

  Gabriel smiles. He’s younger than I thought he’d be—good-looking with dark blond hair and blue eyes. The waiter comes up behind him and hands him a beautifully plated slice of tiramisu dusted with cocoa powder.

  “I hear a happy birthday is in order,” Gabriel says, setting down the dessert. He plucks a small candle from his pocket, slides it into the top of the dessert, and lights it. “Enjoy.”

  Gabriel and the waiter both leave us with the little candle flickering on top of the tiramisu.

  Finn meets my eyes with a grin. “What are you going to wish for?”

  Oh god, Finn. If only I was brave enough to say it. “I’m not supposed to tell you or it won’t come true.” I pause for a second, then blow out the candle, hoping I don’t blush as I think about my wish.

  “How about you tell me when your wish comes true,” Finn says.

  I laugh to cover how startled I am by the rush of heat that hits me between the legs. He said when. “Okay, I will.”

  We share the dessert, and it’s to die for. By the time we finish, I’m a little fuzzy from all the wine, and I can’t keep the smile off my face. Finn walks me out to his car and pauses at the passenger side, his hand on the door.

  “So, how did I do?” he asks. “Did you have a nice birthday after all?”

  “This has been one of the best birthdays I’ve ever had.”

  He shifts closer and my heart rate picks up. He’s taller than I am, and even in heels, I have to tilt my face up to look at him.

  “I’m glad.” His eyes linger on mine.

  Holy shit, I want him to kiss me. My lips tingle with the thought of it. Is he going to? Does he want to? He’s not moving away.

  Forget it; I’m going for it.

  I move closer and tilt my chin up. We’re only inches apart. There’s no possible way I could make it any more obvious. All he has to do is lean in and—

  Our lips touch, slowly pressing together. My eyes flutter closed. He feels hesitant, like this kiss might be over before it gets started. Then his lips soften and he slants his mouth over mine more fully. He slips a hand around my waist and moves in closer.

  I feel his tongue brush my lips and shyly, I slide the tip of mine against his. I’m rewarded with a low sound from the back of his throat and his hand grips my waist, pulling me against him. His mouth moves over mine, slow and soft, but there’s so much tension in his body, like he’s holding himself in check.

  He pulls back. “Sorry,” he breathes.

  “Don’t be.” I slowly open my eyes. Did that just happen? My blood runs hot and I feel a rush of heat between my legs. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this way before. My heart races and I’m consumed with a deep need. I want him, and I want him now.

  Come on Juliet. Say something. Take the risk. “I was thinking, maybe we could go hang out at your place?”

  He shifts away from me a little and his eyebrows lift. “Um, well. That would be…”

  Oh, god. Does he not want this? Did I just make a total idiot out of myself? He looks so surprised, like he can’t quite believe I just said that.

  Suddenly his hands are in my hair and he’s kissing me again.

  His hands.

  In my hair.

  Fucking hell, I think my panties just disintegrated.

  He pulls away, his fingers still entwined in my hair. His nose brushes against mine. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

  “Absolutely,” I say.

  He stares at me for a long moment.

  Why is he hesitating? “Finn, if you don’t want to—”

  “No, I want to,” he says, emphatic. His fingers massage my scalp a little and my eyes almost roll back into my head. “I just don’t want you to think this whole day was some kind of setup to get you into bed.”

  “I don’t think that,” I say. “Whatever else happens, you’ve been an absolute gentleman.”

  He grins. “All right. I’ll take you back to my place.”

  10

  Juliet

  Number of times I’ve thought about having sex with Finn today: one hundred thirty-six.

  We get in his car and pull out onto the highway. Finn keeps his eyes on the road, but he puts a hand on my thigh. God, his hands. So sexy. I can’t quite believe I’m doing this, but there’s no doubt in my mind. I want him—badly.

  He’s quiet on the drive to his place, but his hand slides up and down my bare leg a few times. He parks in front of a small house and we get out. It’s close enough to the beach that I can hear the waves. He leads me up to his front door with a hand on my back, and ushers me inside.

  Finn flips on a light switch, revealing an open, cabin-like layout. There’s a sitting area with a TV above a fireplace, a kitchen with dark cherry cabinets, and a dining table with two chairs. I put my purse down on top of a small bookcase. Did Madison really put condoms in there? Does Finn have some already? I don’t want to think about why Finn would keep condoms on hand—although come on, Juliet, he’s a grown man. But should I move my purse so I have easier access to them? Should I get them out now? Fuck, I’m overthinking again.

  He takes off his coat and hangs it on hook by the door. “Sorry, I wasn’t really expecting company tonight.”

  His house isn’t what I’d call neat and organized, but I wouldn’t expect it to be. There’s a stack of books and some mail on the little dining table, and a flannel shirt is draped over the back of one of the chairs. I notice a few dishes in the kitchen sink, and some clutter on the coffee table. But it doesn’t look messy; it looks cozy. Lived in.

  “Don’t apologize. I’m a lot less judgmental about other people’s homes than you might think.” I wander over to a tall bookshelf near the couch. It’s stuffed with books, some two deep. There’s a mix of fiction, alongside books on psychology and neuroscience.

  “Be honest,” he says. “You want to organize my bookshelf, don’t you?”

  I laugh. “Kind of.”

  He moves in behind me and my back prickles. “Can I get you something? A drink, maybe?”

  I turn so I’m facing him. There’s barely an inch between us. God, I want to rip that shirt off him and see what he has underneath. I lift my chin so I’m looking in his eyes. Those mesmerizing blue eyes that see right into my soul.

  His mouth comes to mine before I can answer. He threads his fingers through my hair and I press myself close. I’m not the least bit interested in a drink. I want to get straight to the ripping our clothes off part.

  Who am I, and what happened to
Juliet?

  Finn pulls away. “Listen, even though we’re here, I don’t expect you to do anything you’re not okay with.” He brushes his nose against mine.

  “Don’t worry,” I say. “I’m okay with all of it.”

  A smile crosses his face. “So, do you have a curfew tonight?”

  “No,” I say with a little laugh.

  “Good.” He kisses me again, deep and slow. If he’s as good at other things as he is at this, I’m in big trouble tonight. “I want to take my time with you. It is your birthday, after all.”

  Holy shit.

  He looks at me, his brow furrowed.

  “What?” I ask.

  “I want to take you upstairs right now, but I don’t want to be a caveman about it.”

  “Caveman is good,” I say. “Let’s go upstairs.”

  Finn takes my hand and leads me to a narrow staircase. At the top is an open loft with a pitched ceiling. On one side is a railing that overlooks the lower level. On the other are big windows, but it’s too dark to make out the view. And my eyes are on his unmade bed.

  We stand at the foot of his bed and he brushes my hair back from my face. “So, sprinkles. What can I do to you for your birthday?”

  Oh, my god. “I… um…”

  “That’s okay. How about I take the lead.”

  I don’t bother hiding the swoon. My eyes flutter closed as he leans in to kiss my neck. His hands slide around my waist and up my back, finding my zipper. With agonizing slowness, he unzips my dress. He pushes the straps aside and I let it fall off my shoulders to crumple at my feet.

  Number of seconds I spend worrying about it wrinkling: zero.

  Finn looks down at me and runs his fingers beneath my bra straps, from the tops of my shoulders to the lacy cups. “Holy shit, Juliet. Fucking look at you.”

  My face warms, but I love the way he’s looking at me. So hungry. I grab the bottom of his shirt and help him pull it off.

  I’m dead. Slain.

  He has a broad chest and delicious lines running across his abs. But it’s the Celtic knot tattooed on one side of his chest that makes my jaw drop.