by Nicole Lynne
"What kind of deal?"
"If you take the job, then I'll get a job."
I frown. "Why would you do that?"
"Well,” she shrugs, “you were right. I am a spoilt princess and live off my dad's money..."
"No." I tuck her hair behind her ear and tilt her chin up, forcing her to look at me. "I didn't mean that. I was being a dick."
She smiles softly. "No, it's fine. You're right. I can't keep shunning my family because of my sister, but taking their money regardless. Plus, I do have a master’s in marketing and advertising," she shrugs.
What can I say to that? A job with kids...I can do that. For Lydia. "Okay." I kiss her, allowing my lips to linger for a second.
"Is that a yes?" She narrows her eyes, biting at one side of her bottom lip to try and supress a grin.
"Yep." Fuck, I hate the idea of a normal job, but I can't crush her and I need to do this. I know I do.
She leans in, bringing her lips to my ear. "You can still fight in The Pit. You know I find it hot when you beat the shit out of those guys." Her teeth scrape over my ear and her nails scratch through my hair. Fuck, I missed her. My dick presses against my fly and my blood heats.
I yank her hair tie free and fist her long hair, tugging her head back as I swipe my tongue up the length of her throat. A gasping breath leaves her. "Fuck, I’m one lucky bastard," I say with a growl, wrapping my arms around her tiny waist and lowering her to the couch. Hope McGrath is a pain in the arse, but she's a hot, sexy, and unfailingly loyal pain in the arse. Despite every effort to keep her at arm’s length, I think I might be falling for her.
I brush my fingers over her forehead and down her cheek. "What?" she asks.
"You're something else, queenie" I kiss her softly. "You really are."
She shrugs. "I'm ginger."
“Red in the head, fire in the hole,” I laugh and she flips me the bird.
29
Hope
Sweat drips down my nose and I adjust the gloves on my hand and head toward the mat, and there’s a slight twinge between my legs when I walk. A constant beacon sounding an alarm in my head: I fucked Finn. I fucked Finn…
"Fucking hit me!" Kyan says.
Propping my gloved hand on my hip, I tilt my head to the side. "Bit unnecessary, dickhead."
He lowers his pads. "Babe, this ain't holiday camp." He nods towards my bare stomach. "Keep eating pizza every night and that little pooch isn't going to be so little."
My mouth falls open. "You did not just call me fat!" He grins and holds the pads up. I move to punch his stomach, chest, face, but he always blocks it. "You're a fucking cunt, princess."
His head falls back on a laugh and I kick him in the ankle. When he goes down, I trip on his long legs, falling on top of him. His hands wrap around my upper arms to stop me head butting him in the face. I’m pressed against him and all I can smell is the scent of sweaty man.
"Ew, you're gross!" I say.
He grips the back of my neck and smooshes my cheek into his slick pec. "Take it, ginge."
"Kyan!" I scream, thrashing against him. "You are fucking disgusting." My thighs end up either side of his waist as I attempt to push off him. I grab his nipple, twisting it hard between my thumb and forefinger.
"Motherfucker!" He lets me go and I roll away from him landing on my back on the matt next to him.
I'm spitting, swiping my hand over my mouth. "I have your sweat in my mouth, you gammy fuck."
I hear a throat clear and I look over to see Finn leaning against the wall, his arms folded over his chest as if he's been there a while.
"Finnley." I smile, curious how well he’ll tolerate mine an Kyan’s interactions now. "Your friend is gross."
"My friend?" he says, his expression unreadable.
"Yeah, come on, ginge. I thought we were besties."
Pushing to my feet, I glance down at Kyan. "Besties do not have to taste each other’s sweat." I flick my hair over my shoulder and he laughs.
Finn's eyes narrow as I approach him. I take a swig of my water, trying to wash the salty taste from my lips. He pushes off the wall and reaches for the hem of his shirt before yanking it over his head in what feels like a deliberate move. I mean, why else would you do that to a girl? That shit is not fair. My eyes drop to his chest before flicking up to his eyes, then his lips. My mouth goes dry and my fingers twitch with the urge to touch him.
He moves closer to me. "You looked like you were having fun," he says.
My mouth opens on a gasp before I smile. "Finnley, are you jealous?" I whisper. All he does is stare at me. "You are!" I bite my lip to tame the grin trying to break free. He's so fucking cute. I move closer to him until our bodies are aligned. He looks down at me and I focus on his chest, gently trailing my fingertips up the centre of his stomach and over his pec. "I do prefer the strong, silent type."
"Dear god. So you are fucking!" Kyan says from behind me. Finn glares at him and I spin on my heel to face him.
"Look, you are getting enough vag that there is no way you need to be concerning yourself with who is jabbing mine."
"Eloquent as ever, queenie," Finn mumbles behind me.
"And pet names so soon?" Kyan touches his hair then rests his hand on his hip, blowing out a sharp breath.
"Oh, don't get bent out of shape. It's not like you're losing a wing man. It's fucking Finn!"
"Hey, look, he is the perfect wing man. He watches my beer while go bust a nut in the toilet," Kyan rolls his neck to the side. "So when some chick Rohypnol's my arse, it's your fault, ginge."
"Chick?” I cock a brow. “I keep telling you that you'd make a perfect bottom, princess. If I see you walking funny...."
"Fuck off," he groans. Finn laughs behind me and his hands land on my hips. "I'm going to train. No fucking in the gym," Kyan says, pointing at us before he walks off in a huff.
"He's such a diva," I say, facing Finn.
I go to move past him, but he snags my waist, spinning me as he presses his lips to mine. Grabbing his face, I kiss him back, moaning against his lips.
"Fucks sake, ginge!" Kyan shouts. "Toilets are that way." I raise my arm and give him the middle finger without breaking away from Finn.
“I’ll come to your place tonight, but I’m cooking. You burn bacon, remember?”
Rolling my eyes, I push away from him and head to the punching bag, a little pep in my step. I feel like a giddy-fucking-school girl.
I get a quick workout in and go to harass Finn one final time before I leave. I find him on a bench, pressing heavy weights above his head. I stop at the side of the room and watch him for a moment, admiring the way the dim lights dance over his strained muscles.
“I can see you in the mirror perving,” he says before he drops the weights to the floor with a thud. I smile and walk over to him, leaning down and pressing my hand on the centre of his chest. He grabs the back of my neck and pitches off the bench, slamming his lips over mine. My heart flutters in my chest as his tongue brushes over mine.
“I’ll see you tonight?” I ask against his lips.
“Sure thing, queenie.” He gives me one final kiss and lies back, picking up his weights again.
I leave him to work out, because that body is all kinds of good.
30
Hope
3 weeks later
I stroll into the boxing gym and spot Finn working with a group of teenage boys. He smiles briefly at me and they all turn to follow his gaze. One of them wolf whistles and his friend laughs. Finn smacks him up the back of the head with his boxing pad on and the kid flinches, turning back around. I grin because he's so cute. He's been in a really good mood recently. The case against Kiera is really strong and it's moving quickly. He loves his job here, and I think it gives him a sense of fulfilment.
He walks up to me and kisses my cheek and the kids all make gagging sounds to which Finn promptly turns around and scowls at them for. “Drop and give me fifty!” he shouts. They all groan but do as he says.
I cover a laugh. He turns back to face me, his scowl melting away. “Five minutes, queenie, and I can go.”
"It's bingo night," I say and Finn groans I hold my hand up. "I swear to god, Finnley if you are about to even consider the possibility of not coming to bingo...no lasagne for you."
"It's Poppy's lasagne, though."
I narrow my eyes. "I will ice you."
"You have issues."
“You say that a lot.” I smirk and smooth my palm over his broad chest. “You love it."
“I kind of do,” he says.
“How are you finding it?” I ask. He’s only been here a few days, but he seems to like it.
He nods, glancing over his shoulder at the kids who are all groaning and complaining through their press ups. A small smile touches his lips. “Yeah, I like it. They’re good kids. Robert says this job will look really good when the court sees my case.”
Smiling, I loop my arms through his. “Good. You look hot in these shorts.”
Thirty minutes later and we have our bingo cards spread out in front of us. Finn has his lucky purple stamper gripped in his hand and he glances over to where Opal’s sitting. “She’s not winning tonight.”
“Is that a fact?” I ask, smiling.
“Fact. Three hundred quid? She has her pension to pull from. She doesn’t need that.”
I pat him on the shoulder. “You see now, don’t you, and yet you piss and moan about coming.”
He laughs. “Three hundred quid is three hundred quid, queenie. Plus, I have to try and defend my manhood.”
I slip my hand underneath the table and grab him through his jeans. “Oh, your manhood is just fine.”
Finn glares at me and rolls his eyes. “Don’t distract me.”
I pull my stamper from my purse. “And I have issues,” I mumble under my breath.
Ten minutes in and fucking Finn jumps up from the table, raising his arms above his head and shouting. “Bingo. I’ve got fucking bingo!” He points one finger at Opal. “Take that and shove it.”
She scowls at him and grips her walker, standing up and shuffling to the restroom
"Motherfucking cunt!" I say, huffing as I toss my bingo cards to the side.
Finn has a shit eating grin on his face as he makes his way to the front of the room. Three hundred quid! He doesn't even like bingo. Bastard.
He takes a small bow as he takes his prize and then he makes the way back over to the table. "I'll share my winnings with you," he says on a grin.
"It's the fucking principle, Finnley!" He chuckles. "I swear to god,” I say, “you're going on my shit list with Opal."
He’s still laughing as he leans in and swipes a strand of hair from my face. "Aw, queenie. That's mean."
I swipe his hand away. "Shit list, Finnley."
He takes my hand and pulls me to my feet. “Come on, let’s go home.” I grab my purse and follow him to the exit. As soon as we step outside, he grabs my hips and pulls me tight against him, placing a warm, soft kiss below my ear. I shiver and lean into him as his hands drift to my arse, forcing me against his hard crotch.
"Bingo does it for you, Finnley, huh?" I say, my bad mood rapidly dissipating.
"No, bingo does it for you," he chuckles, kissing along my neck. "You do it for me," he says.
"Flattery will get you everywhere." My voice comes out breathy and strained.
"I don't need words, queenie and you know it." He pulls away, dragging me to the car. “As soon as I get you home I am fucking the shit out of you.”
"Sex will not make your bingo betrayal any better," I say, attempting to sound stern. "I mean...you're welcome to try, but I don’t think it will."
Epilogue
Finn Finn6 months later
6 months later
Money and influence sure go a long way. I've spent thousands over the past two years on a shitty solicitor who couldn't get my case heard and then here comes Hope McGrath, and in a matter of three months I've had my case heard. She's sitting next to me at the long conference room table. The dress shirt and slacks she insisted I wear make me feel out of place and I keep shifting uncomfortably in the stuffy chair.
Hope places her hand on my bouncing knee to still it. "It's okay, Finn." She smiles and I lean in for a quick kiss. The door behind us opens, a waft of cool air blowing inside. The solicitor and a group of other people, Kiera included, walk in and take seats around the table. Kiera won't even look at me. I glance at Hope and she gives Kiera a fleeting glance before setting her gaze on the solicitor. Hope reassuringly squeezes my leg. It's moments like this that really show you how much you need a person, how nice it is to have someone who will stand by you, how much you really don't want to be alone. Kiera finally looks over at me. Her gaze drifts from me to Hope and back. Tears are brimming on her lash line. This is the first time I've been around Kiera and it's not hurt. This is the first time I've had the thought that maybe it wasn't just me who wasn't good for her, but maybe she wasn't good for me. Sometimes, I think, we focus too much on the things we expected to make us happy. I think we lose ourselves in the things we think should have been when really, happiness is sometimes found in the most unexpected of places. Kiera shoots an angry glare in my direction before turning her attention away. Hope leans in by my ear.
"I'll cut her if she looks at you like that again," Hope whispers and I fight a laugh.
"Mr. West," the solicitor says and my heart immediately goes into a galloping sprint.
"Yes."
"We've been able to come to a decision regarding your custody and visitation rights of Lydia West." He takes a breath and opens a manila file set on the table. "You've held down a good job, no arrest—"he glances up with a narrowed gaze—"aside from the one violation of your restraining order which has since been deemed to have been unnecessary." I inhale. Sweat is building under the collar of this stiff shirt and I find myself pulling at it in an effort to get a good breath. "From here on out, you will be awarded visitation every fortnight. For the first six months those visitations will be supervised, but if all goes well, within the next year you may be awarded regular weekend visitation."
I grab Hope's hand and squeeze, fighting the tears welling in my eyes. "Do you have any questions?" he asks as he closes the file.
"When can I see her?"
"This weekend will be your first visit."
I smile and when I do the movement forces the tears free from my eyes. I've lost five years with Lydia, but I don't have to miss any more time, and that's all thanks to Hope. "Thank you," I say.
Kiera gets up, storming from the room with her solicitor in tow. I turn to Hope, sitting there in her tight blouse and her pencil skirt. "Thank you, queenie."
She reaches for my face, trailing her fingers along my jaw. "Anything for you, Finnley," she says on a smile before kissing me. "You can thank me in other ways though." One eyebrow lifts and her teeth sink into her bright red bottom lip.
"That can be arranged." She stands up, giving me a view of her arse in that skirt. Yeah, that can definitely be arranged.
Hope comes stumbling into the living room clutching her cup of coffee. She plops down next to me on the couch. Her red hair is a holy mess. "Is waking up at this ungodly hour really necessary?" she groans.
"It's Christmas, queenie, of course it is."
She stares at the tree and sips her coffee. "Well, Santa is a cunt. Why can't he come at lunch and leave presents? That way we wouldn't have to wake up at six-fucking-am."
Laughing, I lean toward her to give her a kiss and she grabs my jaw, narrowing her gaze at me before her eyes drop to my lips. "Have you brushed your teeth?" she asks.
"Yes."
She kisses me then pulls away and smiles. "I haven't." She exhales. "Look at all those presents the fat man left." She grins as she snuggles up next to me, leaning into my side
"Yeah, seems Santa went a bit over board.” I smirk at her.
"Look, I like buying presents..."
The light at the end of
the hallway cuts on. "Daddy?" Lydia's sweet voice floats into the living room.
"We're in here, baby girl," I say.
Lydia comes stumbling into the room, her pigtails lopsided from sleep. She grins with wide eyes before she runs to the tree and picks up a doll. "Santa came," she whispers as she turns and looks at me. "Santa came, daddy."
"You must have been a good girl, look at all those toys," I say. Lydia grabs a present from under the tree and skips over to me and climbs into my lap. I wrap my arms around her and hug her. "This one's for you, daddy," she says. "From me and Miss Hope."
"Oh, is it?" I grin as I take it and carefully peel back the wrapping paper. "Wonder what it could be?" She giggles and wiggles in my lap. Underneath the paper is a white box. I open it and move the tissue paper to the side. It's a silver frame with a picture of me and Lydia, the words: I'll Always Be Your Baby Girl engraved on the top.
My chest goes tight and I hug Lydia tighter. "Thank you, baby girl."
She squeezes my neck hard. "I love you, daddy."
"And I love you." I kiss her cheek.
"Come on, shortie. Those presents won't open themselves," Hope says, tickling Lydia's sides. Lydia squeals, giggling as she flops off the sofa. Hope catches her and places her on her feet. Lydia runs to the tree, the lights illuminating her rosy cheeks. I swear, Hope is more excited about her opening the presents than Lydia is. She tears into a present, shredding the paper before she opens the top to a box.
