“I did in high school.” Brightening, Taylor pushed his glasses up his nose. “I heard a rumor that a pro basketball team is coming back to Seattle.”
“That would be cool,” Finn said. The next twenty minutes were a passionate discussion of professional sports teams in the Seattle area.
After dinner, Taylor excused himself to prepare for a tutorial tomorrow. Carly and Susan cleared the table and went to clean the kitchen.
“Ready to show me what you’ve got?” Finn said to Annie.
With a flashing smile, she nodded, ponytail bobbing.
He crossed the room and sat on the piano bench, warming up his fingers with a few quick scales. “What do you like to sing?”
“Rock, blues, R&B, soul, pop, jazz—anything, really. I love Amy Winehouse and Adele.” She stroked the shiny edge of the concert grand then ran the hem of her cardigan over it in case her fingertips had left prints. “Have you got music?”
Now that they’d arrived at this moment he almost wished he could send her away so she wouldn’t embarrass herself. With her pudgy cheeks, round brown eyes and dimple in her chin she looked far too young and too innocent to sing Amy Winehouse’s raw and gritty music with any credibility. But he’d promised.
“You start singing, I’ll improvise.” He set his phone to record. Then he began playing minor chords in a bluesy arrangement. If she had any talent at all, even if it wasn’t suitable for Dingo’s band, he would do what he could to encourage and help her. “When you’re ready.”
Annie closed her eyes and took two deep breaths, focusing inward. Finn kept his head down so as not to make her any more nervous than she already was. His hands marked time with a quiet, repetitive R&B rhythm. He’d almost lulled himself into a meditative state when the raw power of her voice channeling Amy Winehouse woke him with a start.
His mouth dropped open in sheer surprise before he recovered and started playing properly. His hands found the beat and then the melody and meshed them together, keeping the volume low so as not to overpower the singing. No chance of that he realized as Annie’s voice swelled into the chorus. He risked a glance at her. Her eyes were open now but were fixed on some distant vision only she could see. She no longer looked or sounded like a child. Anguish and emotion she could surely never have experienced in her life were somehow conveyed through the tremor of her vocal cords. Swaying with the music, she snapped her fingers and moved her shoulders and hips in a sexy, sensual movement that kept time with the soulful beat.
Dimly Finn became aware of Carly and Susan in the hallway, listening. Then of Taylor, quietly coming down the stairs and standing behind them.
Annie finished abruptly, almost before the last bar was done. “What do you think?”
Still stunned, he shut off the recording.
“That bad?” Annie asked, fearfully awaiting his verdict.
“That good!” He grinned. “You’ve got one helluva voice.”
“Really?” She smiled tentatively as if afraid to believe it.
“I’ve never in my life heard anything like that from a complete amateur.” He rose from the piano to give her a high five. “If Dingo doesn’t use you in his band he’s a fool and there are plenty who will.”
He looked over to Carly and the others. “Am I right?”
They broke into applause and cheers.
Annie burst into tears.
CHAPTER TEN
IT WAS NEARLY 11:00 p.m. before Carly sat down by herself on the couch with her laptop. All in all, it had been an emotional and exhausting evening. Finn had recorded Annie singing three songs and promised to speak to Dingo the next day, before driving the elated girl home. As Carly mixed up another batch of sourdough she heard Susan again plead with Taylor to come home. Taylor had refused, nicely but firmly.
Although Carly was tired she was far too wired to sleep. Finally she had a moment to herself and could investigate more about what happened to Irene. She Googled brain aneurysm, selected a respected medical site, and started to read. The more she read, the more depressed she became. She didn’t hear Finn come in until he appeared in the living room.
“What’s so fascinating?” he asked.
“You mean, terrifying.” She passed a hand over her face then leaned back. “Did you know that a person can have a brain aneurysm for months or years and not know it? They’re like a ticking time bomb and at any moment the aneurysm can burst. Boom and they’re dead.”
Finn sat beside her on the couch. “So there’s no warning?”
“Most of the time there are no symptoms until it ruptures,” Carly said. “I feel awful that I didn’t know, didn’t do something.”
“Don’t.” Finn shifted closer and put his arm around her. “Irene had a good life. She wouldn’t want you to feel bad. She’d want you to look to the future.”
“I know. She always had such a positive outlook on life.” Carly leaned against him, soaking in his warmth.
He played with her fingers, rubbing his thumb across her nails. “If you knew you were going to die tomorrow, what would you do tonight?”
“I wouldn’t go hiking, that’s for sure.” Her broken chuckle made a tear fall to her cheek. She brushed it away. “Sorry I’ve been such a downer lately. Normally I coo over pictures of kittens and put wildflowers in jam jars and stuff like that.”
“Don’t be sorry,” he said gruffly. “You’re grieving.”
“I know and it’ll never pass completely,” she said, remembering her mother’s death. “You learn to live with it. There’ll be darker times, like now, and other days when you cope. And some days the sun will shine.”
Her fingers were interwoven with his, their thumbs stroking. Together with him, she felt stronger than alone.
If there was no tomorrow, what would she choose as her last act? Would she worry about how long a relationship lasted? No, that would be meaningless. Would she waste her time worrying about all the potentially bad things that could happen? Again, pointless. Or would she celebrate the joy in life? Try to find a crumb of happiness to end her days?
She looked into Finn’s eyes. Glimmering in their dark irises she saw light. Warmth. And yes, hope. If she were dying, who better to spend her last night with than Finn? He was one of a handful of people whom she’d cared about most of her life and even though long separated, had never forgotten. His calm, steady strength put things into perspective for her.
Her end was far from imminent but she still had unanswered questions—about him, about herself, about them.
“I would do this.” She kissed him, at first lightly then, seeing the heat flare in his eyes and the sound of startled pleasure, she pressed her lips against his again, slowly, sensuously. Savoring the firmness of his mouth, the warm gust of his breath.
His arms came around her, pulling her close. She sank into him and then she couldn’t stop kissing him. Angling her mouth for more, she savored the slide of his tongue against hers, the heat of his skin beneath her fingertips. His hands moved over her and she slid down on the couch so he could lie on top of her. Heat spread through her at the intimate touch even through their clothes. She kissed him like a drowning woman gulps for oxygen, as if she could never get enough, as if the world was coming to an end and she would inhale him along with her last breath. As if he was life itself.
* * *
WHEN FINN KISSED Carly all his doubts receded and the clamor in his brain stilled. Whatever else was going on in his life, this was pure and right. Everything he’d said about hope and belief in the future distilled into the desire to wash away her heartache with gentle kisses and soft strokes. But when she pulled him down onto her, lust took over.
They fumbled with each other’s clothes, furiously working at buttons and zippers, awkwardly shifting to push down pants and hike up skirt, laughing with eagerness and nerves. How many times had he sat at the piano for his lesson and st
olen glances at Carly curled up on the window seat with a book, wishing he could be doing exactly what he was doing now? His mother’s warnings had held him back. She’s too good for you. She’ll play with you and then break your heart. Concentrate on your music. That’s the only thing that matters. The only thing that will last. Your only chance to rise above your station in life. Then you can have any woman you want.
He squeezed his eyes shut, willing his mother’s voice out of his brain before the moment was ruined. Right or wrong, he wanted Carly. He’d always wanted her. And now he was with her and she was willing and eager. He wasn’t going to turn her down, not when he’d waited years. Oh, the sweet taste of her nipple puckering beneath his tongue. The fullness of her plump breast, the firmness of her belly, the heartbreaking tenderness of her navel.
When they were fully naked, stretched out, her moving beneath him, he groaned with wanting. Her lithe body, the sensation of skin against skin, of her breasts pressed against his chest and his cock finding its way between her legs like a divining rod searching for the lodestone, made him crazy to be inside her.
Through the blood-hot lust haze he remembered to use protection. Leaning off the couch he grabbed his pants, found his wallet and fumbled for a condom. When he finally entered her he looked into her eyes and was humbled by the trust and happiness he saw there. They both stilled and he touched her cheek, and then her lips, abrading the soft skin with his fingertips. She was real, not a dream or a fantasy.
He began to move, slowly at first, then faster as her hips pushed up hard to meet his thrusts. And all the time their eyes were locked in fierce intimacy. Only when she came did her head fall back with a little cry and her eyelids closed, ecstasy softening her features, rolling through her and melting her limbs beneath him. That made him even harder if that was possible. He pumped into her, his body rigid. Her legs came around his hips and pulled him closer, squeezing. The orgasm rolled through him, picked him up and flung him high and then sent him floating back to earth. To the couch and Carly, warm and damp with sweat. He buried his nose in the earthy scent of her skin.
He pressed his lips to her neck and started to shift his weight, worried he was too heavy.
“Stay here at the house,” she said, holding him tightly with arms and legs. “I don’t just mean tonight.”
“You’re looking for a sex slave,” he teased.
Eyes shut, she smiled. “That’s it.”
“I’ll get my things from the hotel tomorrow.” He eased back down, more relaxed and content than he could recall being in a long, long time. They fit together perfectly, legs entwined, his hand cupping her breast protectively, their breath mingling. He drifted in and out of a sleepy bliss. Whatever else was going on, whatever else would happen or wouldn’t happen, he would always have this memory of Carly gazing up at him with desire in her eyes and love in her touch. They’d made love together and they couldn’t unmake it.
* * *
CARLY CAME AWAKE with a pervading feeling of well-being throughout her body, mind and soul. Finn lay curled around her on the couch, breathing evenly, his eyes closed. Lightly, she stroked his hair back from his forehead and smiled as she watched him sleep.
Making love with him had been even better than she’d always dreamed it would be. Possibly they shouldn’t have given in and done the deed but if the world did end tomorrow at least she could die happy. In a moment she would take him up to her room and they would do it all over again, more slowly. Take time to really get to know each other’s bodies. She wanted to find out what made him purr and what revved his engine.
Her smile faded as reality found a way in through a crack in her happiness. What was the point in getting involved? In another two days she would be back in New York. He would be in Los Angeles. A long-distance relationship worked for some but she liked routine and certainty and the idea of coming home to the man she loved at the end of a long day.
Anyway, who knew how long this early phase bliss would last, especially when there were already no-go zones in their relationship. Finn wasn’t willing to let her in, not if he wouldn’t talk about the five-hundred-pound elephant that had been keeping him from performing.
“Finn?” They were both cooling down and she wanted to be under the covers.
“Hmm?” He started kissing her face.
“Let’s go to bed.”
They gathered their clothes and crept up the stairs. Taylor’s light was out, thankfully. What she and Finn did was none of anyone’s business but theirs. Besides, it was temporary. The less anyone knew, the fewer explanations would be necessary when it ended.
She pulled him into the shower and they washed each other. Then he smoothed lotion over her whole body. Finally, back in her room, he made love to her again, slowly. In a seated position on her single bed, with her straddling him, they explored each other, touching, kissing, stroking, licking. Letting the tension build and build, holding off until they were both panting with need. She found another condom somewhere in her bag and made a ritual out of sheathing him. By the time she finally lowered herself over him with a long moan, he was growling with impatience. But he slowed them down again and made her wait while he stroked and kissed and built the tension all over again.
Tension so fierce she wanted to scream. Her nails dug into his back. Before she could change the pace herself, he did, thrusting into her in long, hard strokes that sent her into the stratosphere. She came within seconds. Before the waves of sensation had peaked, he came, too. They clung together, rocking gently, which set her off a second and then a third time.
Finally, exhausted, they slept, curled together in her single bed. Her last thought before she drifted off was that while her mind might be telling her this was temporary, Finn was already burrowing his way into her heart.
* * *
FINN WOKE WITH a crick in his neck from sleeping with his head half off the pillow. He stretched the tight muscles carefully so as not to wake Carly. Then he propped his head on his elbow and gazed at her. So beautiful. So sexy.
Last night when he’d held her in his arms, twelve years and a continent separating them had evaporated as if it was nothing. Forging a relationship going forward wouldn’t be easy but he’d waited for her too long to let her go again. Was it possible to turn their budding romance into something lasting?
He rolled out of bed and headed for the shower. As the water sluiced over his head, he was grateful that Carly had stopped pushing him away. They had a lot of lost time to make up for and he would enjoy every minute.
She was still sleeping when he checked in on her again, lying on her side with her tousled blond hair over her face and the sheet tucked up beneath her arms. He bent to kiss her cheek. She stirred and rolled onto her back, her eyes still closed. The sheet slipped, exposing a rounded breast and one smooth rosy nipple. Unable to help himself, he brushed his lips lightly across the tip to feel the incredible softness. Beneath his gaze it budded and his groin tightened.
She opened her eyes and seeing him, smiled. “Come back to bed.”
“Tempting.” He loved lazy morning sex and Carly was soft and sleepy and willing. And he was so very hard. “Can I take a rain check? I believe you said the plumber is coming this morning?”
“Oh, right. The downstairs bathroom.” She sat up, glancing at the clock. “I need to go to the grocery store. Then I’m going to pack up Irene’s room. Putting off the task won’t make it go away.”
“Do you want help?”
“I’ll be fine, but thanks.” She reached for her dressing gown and slipped it on. “I thought you’d head straight to Dingo’s house so he could listen to Annie’s recording.”
“He’s at work. I’ll see him this afternoon,” Finn said. “Annie’s voice has a lot of potential but it’s untrained. Dingo’s going to hear that. I hope she doesn’t get her hopes up too high.”
“You could train her,” Carly said
, picking through her suitcase for clean clothes.
He huffed out a laugh. “I’m not a music teacher.”
“You had voice lessons for years, along with the piano lessons,” Carly argued. “You know what she needs to learn.”
“The thing is…” The real reason was surprisingly hard to come out with. “I won’t be here long enough—”
“Right, of course.” She smiled, a little too brightly. “Which is a nice segue into talking about last night.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“It was wonderful, and you were wonderful,” she rushed on. “But we both know it’s temporary.”
“Carly,” he said firmly, stemming the flow. “It only has to be temporary if we want it to be. I don’t want you to go out of my life again.”
“Which brings us back around to maintaining a friendship.”
“That’s a given,” he said, hiding his disappointment. He wanted more.
“Pinky promise?” She crooked her baby finger.
“Pinky promise.” He linked fingers and squeezed. Then he turned her hand over and kissed the palm. “We both have a lot on our plate right now. We don’t have to make life-altering decisions after one night of mind-blowing sex. Let’s take this one day at a time.”
She gave him a lopsided smile. “Mind-blowing, huh?”
He knocked his head. “Hollow. I’m short about five pounds of gray matter.”
The doorbell rang.
Finn leaned in to kiss her and then rolled off the bed. “That’ll be the plumber.”
* * *
CARLY SAT DOWN at the kitchen table to make a grocery list. She and Finn had agreed to be friends—that was the good news. The bad news was, cementing their friendship didn’t stop her from being infatuated. Back when he was simply the object of her fantasies, her feelings were easier to keep under control. Now that they’d made love she was hyperaware of him. Like now, for instance. How could she think about milk and eggs when the sound of his deep, rumbling voice down the hall talking with the plumber made her hot all over again?
Harlequin Superromance May 2018 Box Set Page 88
