by Vivian Wood
“Nothing for you to worry about, Finny. I got everything under control,” Wyatt said.
“Bullshit.” Finn set his glass down and gave his brother a hard look. “You’re in some kind of trouble, like always. The difference is, this time you actually seem worried about the outcome.”
Wyatt sucked in a breath and looked away, jaw tensing.
“There’s a girl…” Wyatt started, then stopped himself. “You know what? There’s nothing anybody else can do, so there’s no point talking about it.”
“I can’t say that I’ve ever seen you hung up on a girl before. Or defeated, come to think of it.”
Wyatt gave a humorless chuckle and shook his head.
“Just pour me some damned whiskey, Finn.”
Finn poured him a shot and slid it down the counter, curiosity burning him up inside. Fortunately for Wyatt, Nora chose that moment to make her appearance, and all of Finn’s other thoughts fled.
Nora wore a tight, short crimson dress with a low neckline. The dress was cinched at the waist, showcasing her wild curves to the fullest. Pristine white pumps graced her feet, bumping up her petite stature a couple of inches. Her dark hair was styled in a sleek bob, and she wore red lipstick that practically had Finn’s tongue rolling out like dog after a bone.
“Quit staring and get moving,” Wyatt cracked, slamming his glass down on the counter. “We got business to do.”
Nora gave Finn a sultry glance as she grabbed her purse and made for the door. Finn couldn’t do anything but follow, watching her perfect bare legs as she walked away.
96
Eleven
The bar where Wyatt brought them was nothing like what Finn had expected. He’d braced himself for a pretentious Portland wine bar, maybe, or even a trashy pop-music-filled dance club. But no, Wyatt never did what was expected. He’d brought Finn and Nora to a honky-tonk bar half an hour further away from Portland. There was a live bluegrass band playing, and there were dozens of couples two-stepping on the dance floor. The place was filled with big hair and denim-on-denim outfits, but at least it was lively.
Finn took a long sip of his beer and swallowed, pulling a sour face. He watched Nora and Wyatt from across the room, keeping close tabs on their every movement. Only minutes after settling into a booth at the bar, Wyatt had spotted the supposed client he’d spoken of, and then he’d dragged Nora off to make the introduction.
Now Nora and the client, a rugged-looking cowboy type, were in an animated conversation. Wyatt seemed distant, scanning the crowd. Every now and then he’d interject something into the conversation, or say something to Nora. He even touched Nora’s arm a few times, making Finn’s hackles rise, but Nora just shook him off and focused on the client.
Finn was surprised when Nora put her hand on the cowboy’s arm and let him lead her to the dance floor. She shot an impatient eye roll over to Finn, implying that she wasn’t enjoying herself, but she laughed and played along as the client led her through the steps of a fast-paced song.
Wyatt wandered back to the booth and slid in across from Finn, looking troubled.
“Your girl knows how to handle a cowboy,” Wyatt said, his tone thick with sarcasm.
“I’d watch what I said about Nora if I were you. You’re on thin ice with me as it is,” Finn said flatly.
Wyatt scowled and waved the waitress over, ordering another round for the table. Beers and shots, which made Finn heave a sigh.
“Tequila?” Finn asked, raising a brow. “You planning to get in a fight tonight, then?”
“Fuck off,” Wyatt said, finishing the last of his beer.
When the fiddles quieted and the song ended, the client bowed and handed Nora a business card. She beamed and gave him a quick bow, then halfway ran back to Finn’s table.
“I think I got a big client!” she said, her grin irresistible. Finn scooted over to make room for her in the booth
“Yeah? Hooked a big fish, huh?” Finn asked, sliding an arm around her waist and giving her a quick squeeze.
Nora beamed up at him, flush with her accomplishment. For a moment, all the barriers between them vanished. They were just Nora and Finn, two happy people about to embark on a new adventure together. Finn leaned down and brushed a kiss over her crimson lips, appreciating just how small and fragile she was in his embrace. Heels or no, Nora was a curvy little pixie, and damn if Finn didn’t find that hot as hell.
“Alright, alright,” Wyatt cried, waving a hand at them. “Look, here are the drinks.”
They accepted their shot glasses and slammed the tequila, all wincing.
“There’s no way that was top shelf,” Wyatt coughed.
“You probably banged that waitress and forgot her face,” Finn said with a shrug, wiping at his lips.
“I never slept with anyone here,” Wyatt grumbled.
“Whatever you say. Hey, Nora. Let’s toast to your first big fish, huh?” Finn asked, raising his beer.
Nora grinned and clinked the neck of her beer bottle with his, and they both sipped.
“I could get used to this,” she said with a laugh.
“It’s not all balloons and roses in this family,” Wyatt informed her, sipping his own beer.
“No family is perfect,” Nora said with a shrug. “I just meant—”
“Cause, you know,” Wyatt continued as if Nora hadn’t spoken. “Some families are distant, and that’s sad. But ours has the opposite problem. Ours is a little too close. Right, Finny?”
Wyatt shot Finn a meaningful look.
“What are you talking about, Wyatt?” Finn asked, his impatience mounting.
“Just that, you know… We’re all so close, maybe too close. Take you and Noah, for instance. Did you ever tell Nora the story of how Noah met Charlotte?” Wyatt asked Finn, then turned his gaze to Nora, his tone confidential. “Finn here was Noah’s wingman, you know. If that’s the word…”
“That’s enough, Wyatt,” Finn said, setting his beer down with a sharp bang.
“Hey, hey. I’m just saying that, you know, it’s important to be close to your twin, but maybe not SO close to him. Or his pretty blonde mate, eh?”
Nora cleared her throat, her face suddenly pale.
“Uh, Finn, maybe we should go dance,” she suggested.
“Nah, I got this,” Wyatt drawled, sliding out of the booth and offering Nora a hand.
“Wyatt, don’t do this,” Finn said, feeling anger rising in his chest.
“Relax. It’s a fast song, kid.”
Nora shot Finn a helpless look, putting her hand into Wyatt’s. Finn rubbed the back of his neck with a hand, unable to tear his eyes away from them as they moved out onto the dance floor. Wyatt kept his distance at first, but when the music slowed and turned sultry, Finn jumped up. Just in time, it seemed, because Wyatt pulled Nora close and moved his hands down toward her ass.
Her shocked expression of dismay pulled Finn like a magnet, and in seconds he stuck his arm between them and forcefully pushed Wyatt back a few steps.
“I’m cutting in,” Finn said, giving Wyatt a pointed look. “Maybe you should go have some water, brother. Sober up a little.”
Finn was shocked to see a flash of remorse on Wyatt’s face instead of the usual cocky sneer. Wyatt slunk back to the booth, leaving Finn with a confused frown on his face. When he turned back to Nora, he was doubly confused. The dancers moved all around them, but Finn and Nora were stuck in place for a long moment, staring at each other. Nora had that look again, like she might want Finn to kiss her, but she looked conflicted, too.
Finn took the chance, pulling her close and pressing his lips to hers. She stiffened after a second, breaking away and blushing as she looked at the crowded dance floor. She licked her lips and looked up at him, her expression unreadable.
“I’m a little drunk,” she confessed after a moment. “Maybe we should call it a night.”
Finn tried to hide his disappointment. He tucked Nora’s hand in his own and pulled her off the dance flo
or, toward the exit. He paused before they got to the door, thinking better of it.
“Give me a second to say goodbye to Wyatt,” Finn told her. “I’ll be right back.”
Nora nodded, eyes wide. Finn stalked over to the booth where Wyatt sat. Leaning over the table, he gave his brother a hard look.
“I’m taking Nora home. Find your own ride,” Finn told him.
“Fine,” Wyatt said with a shrug, his attention elsewhere.
“Look at me,” Finn said, slamming his palm on the table, making Wyatt jump.
“Jesus. What?” Wyatt snapped.
“Stay away from Nora. You put us in this situation, and I’m trying to make the best of it. Now you’re interfering. Don’t call her. Don’t drop by. I mean it, Wyatt,” Finn snarled.
Wyatt didn’t speak, but he raised his hands in a gesture of defeat.
“Good,” Finn said. With that, he turned and made his way back to his mate, putting an arm around Nora and guiding her out of the bar. He opened the passenger door of the car and helped her in, then climbed into the driver’s seat.
“Nora…” he started, unsure how to ask her not to talk to Wyatt.
“Can we just… not talk right now?” she asked, pressing the side of her face against her window.
“What did Wyatt say to you?” Finn asked, watching her closely.
“Take me home, please,” was Nora’s only reply.
Gritting his teeth, Finn backed the car out of the parking lot and pulled out onto the highway, his anger growing with each mile he drove.
Wyatt sure as hell did have a reckoning coming; Finn was going to make sure of it.
97
Twelve
Nora lay in bed, thinking how strange her morning had been. She looked at the clock and saw that it was only eight thirty. And she’d already seen Finn once today, which was about 100% more contact than she’d had with him for the last four days. He’d been super busy managing some small crisis on the farm, and had been out of the house from dawn to dusk, coming home for long enough to ravage a pile of sandwiches, shower, and pass out in his office or on the couch.
On day two, Nora had felt so bad for him that she’d started packing him lunches to take out to the field. On day three, out of pure lonely boredom, she’d started packing lunches for the whole crew. She could only work on designs for the house for so many hours before she started to get stir crazy.
And now she was starting to get crazy in a different, more physical way. All because of a minute-long run-in with her own mate, no less.
She’d left the bedroom this morning to pee and literally, physically ran into Finn… who’d been fresh from the shower, wearing nothing but a towel. He was a hundred miles of abs and pecs and… whatever the muscles were in his arms and shoulders, good god. His dark hair had been slicked back, matching the lust dusting of hair on his chest… and lower, lower… Right about where Nora’s face almost landed when she’d run smack into him and nearly fell over.
“S-sorry!” Nora yelped as he reached out to steady her.
Then he’d blinked and shifted, reaching down to adjust his… bulge… and Nora had almost swallowed her damn tongue. Finn was big. Like really, really, crazy big. She’d lifted her gaze to his, blushing ten shades of red when she saw that he was staring right at her breasts. That was the moment that she realized she was only wearing panties and a flimsy, see-through tank top.
“No worries,” Finn said, pulling his gaze back up to her face. Nora did the same, though now she was curious whether his… response… was to her, or just morning wood.
“Uh… hey, I thought I might make dinner tonight,” Nora said, her mouth dry.
Nora laid in her bed, Finn’s bed really, shamelessly breathing in his scent where it lay heavy on his pillows and comforters. It was deep and musky and woodsy, filling her mind with all kinds of naughty thoughts about the man in her life. She was desperately horny now, and it was all Finn’s fault.
Well, mostly. After her little conversation with half-naked, smoking hot Finn, she was on the verge of losing control. Nora bit her lip, wondering… Finn was probably already gone. If she was really quiet…
Slipping her hand into her panties, Nora relaxed and let her fingers do all the work, her mind full of Finn.
98
Thirteen
Finn could hardly think straight by the time he made it back to the house. He’d rushed to finish the last of his work for the day, and managed to climb the porch steps in the late afternoon. He was exhausted and famished, but more than that, he was distracted.
All day, working to contain a pest problem that had developed in the far west field, he’d been thinking of Nora. He’d been on fire for her since he’d returned from the conference, but between Wyatt and the damned caterpillars, Finn had been SOL. He’d barely had time to sleep and eat, much less spend time wooing his mate.
And oh, how he wanted to woo her. Especially after this morning, when she’d surprised him in the hallway. He’d left the bathroom, towel slung around his waist, and she’d barreled into him. When he steadied her and took a step back, he nearly died from the sight of her. Her dark hair was deliciously tousled, her eyes wide, her lips full and lush and tempting… and then he’d noticed her attire.
Her barely-there white tank top did nothing to conceal her full, round breasts, nipples standing at attention. Her shapely legs were long and pale and bare to his view, and only a thin pink triangle of fabric covered her sex. He’d been hard for her in an instant, downright embarrassed by his sudden, evident hunger. The fact that he’d gotten himself off in the shower only minutes before did nothing to ease his need for her.
Worse, he’d caught her staring at his erection. He’d almost taken her right there, pulled her to the floor and ripped off her panties and devoured her inch by perfect inch.
Then she’d spoken, talking about dinner, and Finn had snapped out of the moment. He thought about the vital work that needed doing that day, and he’d reluctantly decided to take care of the last steps of his caterpillar project first. He told himself that he’d enjoy taking Nora more with his mind and conscience clear. He told himself that work was the reason, not his concerns that she might long for his brother.
And then Nora had almost ruined him one more time. After dragging on his clothes, he decided to knock on her door, maybe kiss her and tell her he looked forward to some quality time that evening. But his Nora never did what he expected, of course.
As he made to knock on the door, he heard a soft sound. A hitch of her breath, maybe. Finn hesitated, putting his ear to the door. About three seconds later, he heard Nora give a deep, throaty cry of pleasure that sent chills down his spine. His fantasy from the hotel had come to life; sweet little Nora was touching herself, making herself come. In his bed.
Torn, he knew he couldn’t just barge in and invade her privacy. He’d have to wait, even if it destroyed him.
So he’d had a long day of torment instead of a languid day in bed, and now he was starting to lose his cool. He dragged himself into the house, blinking in surprise when he found the object of his day’s obsession in the middle of a tornado of activity.
Nora was dressed in tight gray leggings and the same filmy tank top, though he could see that she now wore a bra. She stood at the kitchen counter, kneading a thick pillow of dough. When he stopped a few feet away, she jumped in surprise.
“You scared me!” she accused, shaking a finger at him. In the next second, she burst into a bright smile. “I didn’t know when you’d get back. I was just getting some gnocchi dough ready.”
“Sorry,” was all Finn could manage. He couldn’t stop ogling her body, every curve showcased in her tight clothes.
“Jeez, sit down. You look like you’re going to fall over,” Nora said, her smile dimming. “Go make yourself comfortable.”
“Only if you come with me,” Finn said, his lips twitching. They’d only been mates a short while, and she was already the boss of him.
“Give me
two shakes. I have some designs to show you anyway,” she said. She scooped the dough into a bowl and put it in the fridge, washing her hands.
Finn headed into the living room and settled on the couch with a sigh of relief. Nora was on his heels, carrying an armful of blueprints and swatches.
“Okay, this is for the kitchen…” she started. Finn listened as she went through all her plans, even more detailed and well-thought-out as he’d seen before.
“These are amazing,” he said, nodding as he flipped through the sheets.
“Oh! I forgot, I have a surprise for you,” she said. She rose and fled to the kitchen, returning with two frosty beer bottles. She offered him one, and his heart warmed as he read the label.
“Bluebeard Brewery! Where’d you get this?” he asked, astounded.
“I looked up which breweries used your hops and then ordered a case online,” she said, beaming. “Cheers.”
They clinked bottles and sipped. Finn gave a satisfied sigh, feeling happier than he had in months. Just this moment, things between him and Nora seemed so… right. His body tightened for her once more, and he couldn’t wait another moment to taste her. Plucking her beer from her fingers, he sat both bottles on the floor.
“I—” Nora said, but she didn’t get any further.
Finn reached out and dragged her onto his lap, his mouth descending on hers. He worked at her lips, opening her fully, exploring her warm sweetness. Her tongue danced with his, encouraging him. It was a moment’s work to slip his hands under her tank top, groaning at the exquisite feel of her bare skin. He gripped her hips, traced her ribs, cupped and lifted her breasts.
Nora released a soft mewl of pleasure, turning in his lap to straddle him. She gave as good as she got, her arms encircling his neck, her hips rocking against his erection. Finn was so desperate for her at that point that he could have come just from that, but he held himself in check. Nora deserved a real man in every sense, not some teenage boy who couldn’t control himself.
