“I know,” she says quietly. “Trust me, no one knows that better than me. I’ve been through this many times with him. But, he’s my brother, Finn. I’ll always hope that he’s being honest, even when I know he probably isn’t.”
“As long as you stay on your toes with him, and don’t blindly trust him.”
“You’ve known me awhile now. You know that’s not how it is with Kyle and me.”
“You’re right.” I nod, even though she can’t see me, and drag my hand over my face. “I’m a little protective in this situation.”
“And I appreciate it, but I’ve got this one. Cautious optimism is the name of the game here.”
“Okay, babe.”
“What are you up to?”
“I just pulled into Mom’s driveway. I thought I’d come check on her, spend a little time with her.”
“There you go, being a nice guy again,” she replies.
“If you call me a mama’s boy, I’ll never speak to you again.”
She laughs. “No, that you’re not. Tell her I said hello, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Have a good night, sweetheart.”
“You too.”
I love you.
But rather than say it, I end the call. I walk into Mom’s house.
“Hello?” I call out.
“Finn?” she calls from the kitchen. “Is that you?”
“The one and only,” I reply as I join her. She’s building a turkey sandwich. “How are you?”
“Oh, I’m fine. I’m grateful that it’s you and not your ridiculous brother.”
“What has Quinn done now?”
“He calls me no less than five times a day, just to make sure I’m okay. I’m surprised it’s not him showing up, because he does that most evenings as well.”
“He loves you.”
“He’s smothering me,” she says, and cuts the sandwich in half, then offers me one.
“Thanks.” I take it and bite into it, instantly thrown back thirty years in time. “You always made the best turkey sandwiches.”
“The trick is to not put too much mustard on them,” she says, leading me to the living room, where we both sit down and enjoy our food. “Why aren’t you with London tonight?”
“She’s in L.A. until Wednesday,” I reply. “She had to sign contracts for her next project, and has some other meetings. But I just talked to her, and she said to tell you hi for her.”
“I truly like that woman,” Mom says with a smile. “She’s got a brain in her head, and she doesn’t just smile and do your bidding like the other bimbos you’ve dated.”
“I don’t think they were bimbos,” I reply, but she just shakes her head.
“None of them were wife material. You don’t want a woman who’s more concerned with the way she looks than she is about having a career. Those girls didn’t want a career, they wanted a rich man—you—to swoop in and take care of them.”
She’s not wrong.
“Well, it obviously never worked out with any of them,” I say. “And thank God for it, because London is absolutely the woman for me. Like you said, she’s intelligent, and funny. She loves an adventure. She’s not afraid to call me out on my shit.”
“Finally, you’ve fallen in love.”
I nod, but don’t reply, and Mom narrows her eyes at me.
“You have told her you love her, haven’t you?”
“She knows I love her.”
“Dear God, how did I manage to raise a couple of idiots?” She shakes her head and looks to the ceiling, as if the answers are written there. “How is she supposed to know? Because she can read your mind?”
“I’ve mentioned love before.”
“But have you said I love you, London?”
“No.”
“And why not?”
I shift in my chair, uncomfortable with this line of questioning. “That’s a good question. She hasn’t said it either, you know.”
“Youth is wasted on the young,” she mutters. “Do you know, my sweet boy, that I would give literally anything in this world to be able to tell your father that I love him, even one more time? He was the love of my life, and I waited a long time for him to come into my life. He took his sweet time about it.
“I was almost thirty when I finally met him, and let me tell you, in those days I was well on my way to being a spinster. There are times that I feel like we got cheated out of so much time together because we met so late.”
“I didn’t realize that.”
“True story. And then he was just gone, in the blink of an eye. London is here, Finn, and you love her. So, you have to tell her.”
“What if she doesn’t feel the same?”
She sits back in her chair and smiles at me, using that smile that women have when the men they’re talking to are clueless.
“She does. I know that for sure. I’ve seen the way she looks at you, dear boy. Women don’t look at men like that unless they’ve already planned the wedding in their head ten different ways.”
“Wedding?” I swallow hard and shift in the chair again. “I haven’t thought about marriage.”
“Yet.” She leans forward to catch my gaze with her own. “You haven’t thought about it yet. But you will, because I didn’t raise my boys to carry on with a woman without marrying her.”
“This is the twenty-first century,” I remind her, but she shakes her head stubbornly.
“I don’t care. If you love her, and want to be with her, you’ll marry her, and I don’t care if you’re turning forty soon, you’re still my child.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She smiles softly. “My baby is about to be forty. How did that happen?”
“Time passes.”
“Too quickly. You’ve done some amazing things with your forty years, Finn.”
“Thank you.”
“Now it’s time to settle down and give me some more grandchildren.”
“Are we going to talk about this all night? Because if so, I have other things to do.”
“Fine, then.” She waves me off. “Are you excited about your party?”
“I’m not sure why I need a party.”
“It’s a milestone birthday, and it’ll be fun to celebrate it. Now, I think I’d like to get out of the house for a few hours.”
“Okay.” I stand with her and smile down at her when she lifts her handbag. “Where are we going?”
“Take your mother to the movies. Nothing dirty or scary, now.”
“I can do that.” I lift my arm, inviting her to hold on to it as I escort her out to my car. “This is a fun surprise.”
“Life should be full of fun surprises, my boy.”
Chapter Fourteen
~London~
I’ve never been so exhausted in my life. Not physically. I’ve been so physically exhausted before that I couldn’t walk. No, this is a mental exhaustion that’s settled around me like fog around the Brooklyn Bridge, and it doesn’t feel like it’s going to dissipate anytime soon.
Of course, that doesn’t mean that I’ve had a wink of sleep on this flight from L.A. to New York. I mean, that would just be silly. In fact, I’ve hardly slept at all since I left Finn’s condo just over two days ago.
It’s ridiculous.
Suddenly I can’t sleep when I’m not with Finn? I’ve been sleeping fine without him for thirty-two years, but now I can’t.
Finally, after six hours in the air, we land and I bring my phone to life. I have two texts from Sasha and one from Finn, which I open first.
I’ve missed you. Do you mind coming straight to my place?
I grin and reply. I’ll see you soon. Just landed.
Rather than reply to Sasha’s texts, I call her while I wait for my luggage.
“Are you back?”
“Just landed. I’m waiting at baggage claim and then heading over to Finn’s. What’s up with you?”
“Oh, nothing.”
“Sasha, your text said, and I quo
te, I need you right now.”
“Well, I might need advice. About a man.”
“Really? Spill it. Who?”
“Fuck life,” she says with a sigh, referring to Jeremy. “I know, we said we don’t like him, but I might be starting to like him, and he asked me out on a date. Like, a real date, not just a hookup.”
“If you like him, you should go.”
“It’s not that easy,” she says, and I can hear the fear in her voice. “The hookups are working for us. No fuss, no muss. And now he wants to complicate it with dating? I mean, why does he have to do that?”
“Because he has feelings?” I suggest, and hear her snort in the phone. “I mean, I know he’s a man, and it’s a hookup, but you’re fucking incredible, Sash. What’s not to love?”
“Yes, I’m fabulous. But the point of the hookup is to not have any feelings that aren’t centered around an orgasm. I don’t have time to mix dating into it.”
“Then tell him no.” I pull my suitcase off the belt and walk toward the cab line. “Tell him you want to keep things as they are.”
“But that makes it awkward,” she replies, and then groans. “Why did he have to do this? I don’t want to find a new fuck life.”
“I think you’re overthinking this. Just tell him what you’re thinking and go from there.”
“Okay. What are you and Finn doing tonight, besides getting naked?”
“I don’t know, I’m too tired to make plans, so hopefully we will watch TV and then go to bed.”
“God, you sound old.”
“I feel old today. I’m tired. I’ll tell you all about it later. I have to hail a cab.”
“Okay. Talk to you later.”
I rattle off Finn’s address to the driver and climb in the backseat. It’s almost dark now, which surprises me, but then I realize that I just lost three hours with the time change. The drive is uneventful, and quicker than I expect. I pay the driver, and Finn’s doorman smiles as he opens the door for me.
“Hello, Miss Watson.”
“Hello, Doug. Thanks.”
He nods and I walk to the elevator.
I can’t wait to crash on Finn’s couch.
Or on Finn.
Once on Finn’s floor, I knock on his door, and he opens it, as if he was waiting on the other side.
“I missed you,” he says, pulling me inside and into his arms. Thank God. This is exactly what I needed.
“I missed you too.” I bury my nose in his neck and hold on tightly, breathing him in. “You smell good.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m tired.” I pull back to look at him. “But I’m much better now that I’m here.”
“I’m glad. I have something to show you, if you’re up to it.”
“Do I have to go very far?”
“No, not very far.” He brushes his thumb over the apple of my cheek, and I’m pretty sure I’d go anywhere with him right now.
“Lead the way.”
He takes my hand and leads me to the back of his condo, presses a button, and an elevator door opens.
“I’ve never seen this before.”
“This leads to my rooftop,” he explains with a smile.
“You have a rooftop? Like, of your own?”
“Yes, I own it,” he says, and presses the up button. When the door opens, and he leads me out into the warm night, I stop and stare.
There are lights strung back and forth across the length of the space. Candles are lit, and there are red roses on every surface possible.
“That’s a lot of flowers,” I murmur, completely shell-shocked.
“I called the florist and asked for roses,” he explains, leading me to a seating area in the middle of the space. “When they asked me how many I wanted, I told them to send all of them. I had no idea it was quite this many.”
“They smell amazing.”
He smiles and guides me down on a plush chair, then sits in the chair next to me.
If he gets on one knee and pulls out a ring, I might throw up.
We’re not there yet.
He does lift a wrapped box off the table and offer it to me.
“This is for you.”
I look at him with so many questions swirling in my head, take the box, and stare down at it.
“This is a lot.”
“I missed you,” he repeats, and brushes my hair off of my cheek, hooking it behind my ear.
“I guess so.” I take a deep breath and unwrap the box, stopping cold at the sight of the signature black Chanel box. “Finn.”
“Open it,” he urges.
Inside the box is the stunning black handbag I had my eye on several weeks ago when we went shopping together. I had intended to go back for it, but ended up buying something else instead.
This bag is a dream.
“I know you don’t need me to buy these things for you,” he says, and rubs his hand up and down my back. “I wanted to buy it for you. It’s not your birthday, or any holiday. I wanted to get you something that you’d love, because I love you, London.”
I blink rapidly and stare up at him in surprise. He finally said the words, and he put this gorgeous evening together for me.
“Wow,” I say at last, staring at the flowers, the lights above, and this amazing gift in my hands. “Thank you so much. It’s all amazing.”
“And appropriate?”
His lips are twitching in that way they do when he’s particularly happy with me, and I can’t help but laugh and launch myself into his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“Yes, it’s appropriate. You’re quite the romantic, Finn Cavanaugh.”
“It seems I am. I’m quite surprised myself.”
I sigh and let myself enjoy the feel of his arms around me.
“Is something bothering you?” he asks quietly, his lips settled against my hair.
“I’m more exhausted than I expected to be,” I admit. “And frankly, it scares me a little. I only had two full days of work, and I can barely keep my eyes open.”
“It was a lot of work,” he reminds me. “Is your leg okay?”
“It doesn’t hurt. It’s a mental exhaustion more than anything. Who knew that stepping outside of your comfort zone could wipe you out?”
“Here.” He picks me up and carries me to the outdoor sofa. “Lie down. Put your head in my lap.”
“I am usually happy to oblige you with a blow job, Finn, but I’m really—”
“Funny,” he says, interrupting me. “Just relax, sweetheart.”
I happily oblige him, lying on the comfortable sofa and resting my head on his lap. He drags his fingers through my hair, making my eyes drift shut.
“The city is pretty at night,” he murmurs.
“Hmm.”
“Are your eyes closed?”
“Oh yeah.”
He chuckles. “You should sleep, London.”
“You went to all of this trouble, and I’m going to sleep through it.”
“It’ll be here in the morning.”
I just can’t keep my eyes open. His fingers feel like heaven in my hair, and I’m just so exhausted.
“Didn’t sleep without you.”
“You didn’t sleep well without me?”
I shake my head no.
“That makes two of us, baby.”
I stretch and yawn, loving the way the crisp sheets on Finn’s bed feel against my naked skin. I haven’t opened my eyes yet, but the sun is warm on my face, the bed is comfortable, and I smell bacon.
My eyes fly open.
I smell bacon.
I glance around and frown, then reach over to feel the bed where Finn was. It’s cold. He’s been up for a while.
I check the time and gasp.
It’s after ten in the morning.
I slept straight through from falling asleep on Finn’s lap on the roof until now. And I’m starving.
I climb out of bed and walk into the bathroom to do my business. There’s a white T-shirt
of Finn’s sitting on the vanity with a note.
This is for you, my love.
The man is seriously sweet.
I pull the shirt on and pad out to the kitchen, rubbing my eyes as I go. I sit down and brace my chin in my hand as I watch a shirtless Finn work around the kitchen.
And what a show it is!
His back is to me. He’s moving effortlessly from the stove top to the fridge, chopping vegetables and whisking eggs.
Shirtless.
Did I mention he’s not wearing a shirt?
It’s something to write home about. His faded blue jeans sit low on his hips, giving me a glimpse of the dimples above his tight ass. His skin is dark and smooth, and his muscles are aplenty.
God bless him.
“Good morning,” I say, getting his attention. He turns to smile at me.
“Hey there, sunshine. Do you feel better?”
“Yeah, I slept.” I push my hair over my shoulders. “In fact, I slept so hard I don’t remember you carrying me down here or getting me naked.”
“Really? You don’t remember the hot, screaming sex we had at about midnight?”
“Uh, no.”
“That’s because we didn’t have any.”
He laughs and pours the eggs into a skillet and begins to scramble them.
“Who brought all of the flowers down?” I lean over and press my nose into a bloom, breathing in their fresh scent.”
“I did.”
I stand and walk around the island so I can wrap my arms around him from behind and lay my cheek against his back. “You know I love you too, right?”
He turns and smiles at me. “I know.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t say it last night. I think I was gobsmacked.”
“It’s okay.” He kisses me and boosts me up on the countertop so I’m out of his way. “You were tired and surprised.”
“I hope I didn’t hurt your feelings.”
“You didn’t.”
“Because I wouldn’t ever—”
“London.” He comes back to me and leans in to kiss me, long and slow, before just resting his lips against mine. “I’m fine. I’m glad you feel better. And I love you.”
“I love you.”
He kisses me once more then returns to the task at hand.
“Now, what do you want to do today?”
All the Way Page 15
