Val felt light and happy. It had only been a day, but she felt the same. Who needed food when they could feast on each other?
Finn stepped away. The look in his eyes revealed it had taken him some effort. He rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip, his eyes dark and dangerous. “Dinner. I’m making pasta, and it’ll be mush otherwise.”
“I’m hungry.”
“I’m hungry too. But we have to eat first.”
He could make her laugh so easily. Val followed him into the kitchen. A couple of saucepans bubbled on the stove, and the kitchen table was set for two.
Finn took a bottle of wine from the fridge, opened it with a flourish, and poured two glasses.
“Are we celebrating?”
“Not especially. I just had a bottle hanging around, and I thought you might like some.” He peeked inside one pot, and stirred another.
The light bubbles made Val’s nostrils flare in the way they did when a sneeze threatened. She sipped, then, “I better warn you, I get tipsy pretty quick on champagne.”
He stilled like a hunting tiger. Stared into her eyes in a way that made the hairs on the back of her neck rise. His slow smile heated her blood. “What do you do when you’re tipsy?”
“I lose my inhibitions.”
“I like the sound of that.” Finn took the large saucepan off the stove, drained it, and poured its contents into a large white serving dish. He put the sauce into a smaller bowl, and sat next to her. “Ravioli. Easy to make, quick to eat.” His eyebrows rose. “More champagne?”
“Trying to get me drunk?”
One hand at her nape, he kissed her again, so passionately she was tempted to push the food aside, and drag him off to the bedroom. “I have to talk to you about something.”
The contract popped into Val’s mind instantly. She chewed her bottom lip. It could be anything. Their first date. The fact that it was Friday. She didn’t want to think about work, knew that bad news would shatter the mood, but couldn’t wait. “Tell me.”
He refilled her glass and sat down next to her. “We chose the photographer.”
There was a somber look in his eyes—she didn’t have to ask, but couldn’t stop herself. “It wasn’t me, was it?”
“No.”
Disappointment twisted Val’s gut. “Shit.”
“It was a tough call. You were everyone’s second choice. But Leo Sorensen won.”
Leo Sorensen was a fantastic photographer with a large studio in town. If she had to lose out to someone, at least it hadn’t been a mediocre photographer. “He’s good.”
“His pictures were very different than yours. Minimalistic.”
She’d taken a chance, including people in her shots, but still, the loss of the contract hurt.
“I’m sorry.” There was concern in Finn’s eyes. Concern for her reaction.
Val took a drink and forced a smile through stiff lips. “If I had to lose, I guess Sorensen is a good person to lose to.”
“I don’t want this to change things between us.”
“It doesn’t.” Just as he’d promised, he’d made a decision based purely on the work submitted. She couldn’t fault him for that. “I’ll just have to find another way—”
“Another way to what?”
“To make some money.”
Finn stood, drained the pasta, and brought bowls to the table.
“Is money a problem?”
She didn’t want to make him feel guilty, but couldn’t lie. “I worked part time at a bookshop, but I’ve recently lost my job there so I need to expand my photography workload. Your commission would have made things easier, but…” She shrugged. “I’ll work something out. I did my first commission for another photography studio today. A dudeoir shoot.”
Finn frowned. “I don’t know what that is.”
“It’s like a boudoir shoot—an intimate shoot where the client wears underwear or poses sexily, usually as a private picture for themselves or for their partner. But with dudes.”
“So you’ve been photographing a man naked?” His eyebrows rose.
“Not exactly naked, but close.” The shoot had been fun, and the client’s satisfaction with the pictures had boosted her confidence. “I was nervous about it.” She hadn’t spoken to Finn about her inexperience before, not wanting to jinx the photography commission.
“Because?”
“Everything about the job was an unknown,” Val said. “The studio needed someone to fill in, and asked me, I hadn’t done dudeoir, or,” she shot him a glance, “taken on a job on my own before.” She twisted her napkin into a figure eight, rolling the tissue between her fingers. “I knew I was capable of it, of course, but the only major job I’ve done before was the commission for your company.” And that hadn’t worked out so well, had it?
“I don’t understand why you are working for other photographers. Wouldn’t you like to open your own studio? Go out on your own?”
“Sometime, maybe.” Simon had given her a start in the business, even if she was successful enough to make it on her own, she couldn’t just abandon him. And there was the every present problem of money. “I plan to, but right now, I don’t have the finances.”
“So start small, bring in the work, and build up to it.” Finn pushed away his empty plate. He reached over and rubbed the crease between her eyebrows. “It’s natural to be disappointed. Put your cares on hold for the weekend, and stay here with me.”
Val rubbed her mouth with her fingertip. “Hmm. What on earth would we do all weekend?”
Finn stood, pulled her to her feet, and curved an arm around her back. Her heart sped up as he nuzzled her neck. “You have to ask?”
*****
Her low, husky laugh always turned him on. All the time they’d been talking, he’d wanted to touch her, wanted to trail his lips over every inch of her body. The fact that she was unaware of the overwhelming attraction that drove him ratcheted up the sexual tension even more.
When she’d confessed her money worries guilt had welled up that he’d chosen another photographer and shattered her dream. He wanted to help. Wanted to find out more about her problems and solve them.
He’d never wanted to know everything before.
Now that he had her in his arms, thought could wait. Finn licked her neck, felt her shiver. “What are you wearing under this sweater, another skull tee-shirt?”
“You remember that?” Her voice was husky.
“I remember everything about the first time we met.” His hands slid under the hem of her sweater and his palm flattened against her warm skin. “You were so matter of fact, with your list of questions. So different from all the other women there, who were out to find a man. Out of place, just like me.”
“Like I said, Maggie dragged me along. I wasn’t looking for anyone.”
There was no fastener on the smooth elastic back of her bra. It must open in the front. He palmed her breasts, loving her frantic gasp as he stroked her erect nipples through the fabric. “Let’s go.” Picking her up, Finn stalked to the door. Getting horizontal as soon as possible was an overwhelming urge he had no intention of denying.
Val nuzzled against his chest. “There’s no need to carry me everywhere, I have legs, you know.”
He gripped her thighs tightly, “It’s quicker.” He loved the way she clung with both arms around his neck. The feel of her body against his. She didn’t weigh much so carrying her was pretty effortless. Hell, he liked feeling like a he-man too, but there was no way he was admitting that. “Don’t you like it?”
Her hand stroked the back of his neck. “Oh, I like it.”
He walked up the stairs, kicked open his bedroom door, and laid her gently on the bed.
“I just don’t want you to tire yourself out, that’s all.” She pulled him down and spoke against his lips. “Because you’re going to need every bit of energy tonight.”
He could tell her he had boundless energy when it came to making love to her, but why tell when he could sho
w? Slowly, deliberately, he peeled away her clothes.
She reached for him too, but he stilled her hands. “Wait.” He stood and walked to the door. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
He took the stairs two at a time, dashed into the kitchen, and took the dessert he’d made out of the fridge.
“Finn?” she called as he dashed back upstairs.
She was sitting up on the bed when he entered the room. Her gaze flicked from the glasses in his hands to his eyes, and with a wicked smile she let her hands drop from her bare breasts when she saw what they contained. “Lemon mousse?”
“Yeah.” He placed the glasses on the bedside table, and shed his clothes, then settled between her thighs and dipped his fingers into a glass.
“Cold!” Goosebumps erupted on her skin as he smeared the mousse over one breast and then the other.
Finn smiled. Took more of the dessert, and spread it over her stomach, and down to the space between her thighs.
Her cornflower eyes darkened to navy. Her fingers gripped the coverlet, clenching and unclenching like a kitten. She licked her lips, and moaned as he lowered his head and slowly licked every trace of mousse from her body.
This time, there was a slow satisfaction in their lovemaking. The urgency that had held him captive earlier in the evening stretched and dissipated with every taste of her skin beneath the lemon. They had all night, and he’d made her his for the days to follow.
Every night should be like this.
The thought gave him pause for a moment as he flipped onto his back, and she smoothed protection over his erection and straddled him. Every night? Do I really want…
Val was on her knees, carefully positioning him at her entrance. He held her hips, looked into her eyes as she slowly took him inside. His hips moved, and the look of bliss that transformed her face sent a wave of emotion through him.
Caring, wanting, loving. Knowing that there was no-one else for either of them. Unable to consider that there ever would be.
They moved as one and Finn couldn’t hide the truth from himself anymore. This was no casual affair he could control. He wanted her every day and every night in his house. In his bed. In his life.
He was in trouble.
*****
In one way, being with Finn was easy. Val slept through the night in his arms, and they spent most of the morning in bed, rising late and heading out to the pub on the corner for brunch. If it weren’t for the unwanted echoes of how life had been before, it would be perfect.
Life before. Life with Michael. She’d forced him from her mind ruthlessly after the divorce. Had tried hard not to look back. But as they walked hand in hand through the empty streets near Finn’s home, she couldn’t help but remember.
Michael had accused her of changing once they were wed. He’d said she wasn’t the woman he’d married. Deep down, she knew he was right. The strain of being solely responsible for their finances had eaten away at her carefree nature, made her question every penny he spent having dinner with his friends, or merely going for a pint after college. Her emotions back then were ugly and dark. Resentment and frustration. She’d been too tired to make love with him for weeks before he’d cheated.
She’d never told anyone that the overwhelming feelings were of relief that their marriage was over, mixed with guilt that she’d driven him away.
“You’re quiet.” Finn squeezed her hand.
“Just thinking.” She brushed aside Finn’s concern, unable to put her thoughts into words. The last thing she should do is confide in her new lover. The details of her splintered marriage were not for sharing.
They walked up to Finn’s front door. Inside, Finn dropped the Sunday newspapers they’d bought onto the sofa. “My brother who lives in London is over and we’ve been invited to a party at my parents’ house next weekend.”
“We?” The thought that Finn’s family knew of her existence was a surprise. “Don’t you mean you?”
“I’d like you to come.” He bracketed her face in his hands. “Where I go, you go.”
Val took a step back. “Did you used to bring the harem to family gatherings?” She hated the sharp note in her voice, but couldn’t seem to keep her emotions in check.
“I haven’t brought a girl home since I was a teenager,” Finn said. “But I’d like you to meet everyone.”
He was telling her that she was different. That she was special. Everything she didn’t want to be. Val crossed her arms. “I wouldn’t want to give your family the wrong idea.” Her back was so straight it ached. “I mean, you and I aren’t in this for the long haul, Finn. We’re just having fun, that’s all.”
Finn frowned. “What if I want more? What then?”
Chapter Fourteen
He knew he shouldn’t push it. Could tell she was withdrawing by the way she avoided his gaze. But he’d never been in this position before, never wanted more from someone who was unwilling to give it.
“I don’t think we should try to make this more than it is.” Her measured tones sparked anger deep in Finn’s gut.
He frowned. “So what’s your take on our relationship then? Are you just in it for the sex?” There was no logical reason why the idea should burn through him like acid. After all, he was a master of casual relationships—every single one of his previous relationships had sex at their core.
“We’re friends too,” Val said. “It’s not just sex. I care about you.”
The words were so like the ones he’d used to previous paramours, she might have bugged him for months. For the first time, being on the other side of the conversation, he understood how much they hurt. “You and I could be more. We could…”
Val’s eyes blazed. “We could what, Finn? Be boyfriend and girlfriend? Be a couple? Get engaged and married? I’ve done that. I don’t want to do it again.”
How they’d gone from a fling to married, as though those were the only options available made his head spin. “I wasn’t thinking marriage.” Although the idea wasn’t as repellent as he’d thought it would be. “But we’re exclusive, we could be a couple.” I already think of us as that.
“You’re the master of casual.”
“I used to be.” He felt raw. As though he’d chained himself naked to a rock, and was inviting her to tear strips out of him. “But I want more.”
“I don’t have any more to give. Maybe I should go.” She picked up the coat she’d discarded on the sofa mere moments before.
Finn touched her arm. “Don’t. Let’s talk through this.”
“I really don’t see what there is to talk about.” Her jaw was set in a tight line. “I don’t want more, Finn. I’m happy with what we have.”
He stepped close. Watched her eyes darken, and her tongue swipe over her bottom lip. “So you’re happy with this…” He cupped her face and kissed her. “And this.” He pulled her close so every inch of her body aligned with his.
“Yes,” her voice was deep and husky.
“So let’s start here.”
*****
The next day, Val made an excuse after breakfast, and returned home. She spent the rest of the day working, editing the dudeoir shoot, and putting together the finished work into a portfolio. Maggie was out for the entire weekend, so she had nothing to break the solitude, and her thoughts that crowded in, making her question herself.
When she went to bed alone that night, thoughts of Finn overwhelmed her. She missed his smell, his touch, his warmth. How had she started to fall in love with him so quickly? Surely she had more sense. She’d been born on Valentine’s Day. Every year without fail, her mother sent two cards, a birthday card and a Valentine’s Day card, covered in hearts and flowers. She didn’t even have to read the words in the Valentine’s card to know what they said. They were always the same. “I wish you love.”
Every year she’d thrown the card away, not wanted to embrace the sentiment inside. Her mother wished her love—in her romantic view, love made the world go around. For the past two years Val ha
d resolved to live without it. To not trust the fickle emotion, lest she be hurt and find herself alone again.
When she was alone, without the possibility of someone in her life, it was easy to discard the idea of love, but now she was actively pushing away someone. Pushing away Finn, as well as the concept of being one half of a couple. It was cowardly, and made her miserable. And really, what he was asking wasn’t such a big deal. She’d blown it up out of proportion, refusing to meet his family. There were ways to conduct adult relationships, ones she had yet to master, apparently.
Val clicked off her bedside light, and turned over in the darkness. Her only previous experience of love had been all in. She knew how to live without someone in her life, and how to share her life totally with a man. Something in-between? Well, that would take work.
*****
The pressure of work kept Finn busy for the next couple of days. Val was busy also, too busy to meet up—at least that was what she said. He wanted to push, but it would be counter-productive, so he let it be. Leo Sorenson was working on the pictures as a rush job, while Finn and Connor produced their proposal for Wonderful Houses.
Being on television would open their business to a wider audience and once the thought of nailing the job would have consumed him. No longer. Instead the sneaking suspicion that Val was edging away from a relationship seemed to be the only thing he cared about.
She called on Wednesday, asking if he was free for dinner on Thursday.
He agreed, and kept the conversation to small talk—avoiding mention of the upcoming party. She’d been adamant she wouldn’t go, and there was no point in revisiting that particular subject.
“Is Simon back?”
“He rang this morning from the airport, saying he was on his way home to bed.” Her tone was measured, but beneath the surface was a hint of excitement. “I have a meeting this morning with Love Shots, the studio I did the dudeoir shoot for, and Simon asked me to keep this evening free, I think we’re going to have a working dinner.”
Logan 02 Three Minutes to Happiness Page 11
