by Cara Dee
I laughed and stole a leftover blueberry from the container. “How modern of you.”
“Right?” He closed the distance and rested his hands on the counter, and he kissed me quickly. “That said, I hope you come with me.”
“Come with you where?”
“On my morning run.” He nipped at my bottom lip when I pouted. Running was torture! “You said you wanted to get stronger, Emilia. This is how.”
I thought back to the classes Sarah had put on her list. It would probably do me good to write a similar one so I didn’t forget my priorities. I’d never had ambitions before, and that had to change. Evidently, I suddenly had a future.
“Okay,” I whispered. “I’ll go with you.”
I was gonna get stronger, dammit.
“Fuckin’ A.” Finnegan grinned and rubbed his hands together, returning to the blender. “We head out in ten. Do you have anything to wear for now? We’ll get you new shit in the city.”
“You are way too excited for this.” I jumped down from the counter and huffed. “I’ll dig out my old sneakers.” Hopefully, my yoga pants still fit.
I should’ve known Finnegan didn’t get his sculpted body from eating cake.
“Four more laps, princess. You’ve got this.” He ran past me—again—on his millionth lap around their property.
For the record, their property was freaking huge. If the front wasn’t big enough, the open grounds behind the main house were gonna kill me. That space alone was easily a few football fields big. There was an unfinished pool area, patio, orchard, an enormous lawn, and at the very end, a duck pond and small forest. All of it was surrounded by a ten-foot-tall hedge with a fence buried inside it, according to Finnegan.
Music was pouring out of his house, which I couldn’t hear when I reached the end of their property.
I huffed and puffed, and that rat bastard was somehow always near when I wanted to pause and catch my breath.
I continued running. Or, let’s be fair. I jogged. Finnegan was running. He made it look too easy.
The next time he passed me, he even smacked my butt.
“I’ll kick your ass, Irish boy!” I yelled, panting.
“Might wanna catch me first!” he hollered.
I gnashed my teeth together and went a little faster. Who needed to breathe anyway. My clothes stuck to my body, and I felt generally gross.
Three laps later, I was ready to throw in the towel. Finnegan was outside his house doing push-ups, and I just… I snapped, okay? I stalked over to him and sat down on his back, causing him to collapse on the grass.
“Oomph.”
“Not so fit now, are you?” I folded my arms over my heaving chest and peered down at him.
He growled, and then the fucker got a better grip, hands planted on the grass, tendons straining in his arms. I yelped and almost fell off of him, and he made me hate him just a bit when he completed his set.
“You were saying?” he panted and rolled over, effectively brushing me off of him in the process. He was smug as hell, but fuck, he was incredibly sexy. He’d shed his hoodie, and his tee was drenched in sweat that made his muscles glisten.
My mouth went dry.
I lifted his T-shirt and eyed his abs. “Um, can we go inside and have actual fun?”
He chuckled breathlessly and sat up. And he gave me another glimpse of his abs when he used the bottom of his shirt to wipe his forehead. “We’re not done yet.” He cuffed me playfully on the chin. “I wanna test your strength.”
“Wanna wrestle?” I waggled my eyebrows.
He grinned and took himself a big kiss. “You have no idea how much you’ve brightened my life, princess.” Telling me things like that…no bueno. I felt things. He was stirring up emotions in me. “Let’s table that idea for later. I’m definitely interested.” He stood up and extended a hand. “First, something else.” He retrieved his water bottle too, and I guzzled like a champ.
As another song began blaring out of Finnegan’s house, he ushered me toward Patrick’s place. The side of it, more correctly. It was an empty house wall, aside from some contraption. A wood beam stuck up from the grass, and it had a bar attached to it. The other end of the bar was secured to the house wall. I wasn’t entirely new to gym equipment. This was used for chin-ups.
It was high, high, high up.
“Chin-ups,” I said with a nod. “I don’t do those.”
“You will soon,” he murmured in my ear and squeezed my butt. He’d clearly developed a fondness for it. “Do you know how to do them?”
“No,” I lied. “You’ll have to show me. You should probably lose the tee.”
Meanwhile, I was developing a huge crush on making Finnegan laugh.
“Are you objectifying me?” he asked.
“Like whoa.”
He humored me, thank goodness. He tore off his shirt and…hnngh. Definition everywhere. Standing underneath the bar, he jumped up with a grunt and grabbed it, immediately heaving himself higher to start a set of chin-ups. I just stared. Finnegan was solid. Not slim, not bulky. With some meat on his bones and those muscles that rippled when he worked out, he was one perfect sandwich. I mean combo.
His filthy sounds weren’t helping. I clenched my thighs together, and he finished the last two chin-ups with sexy growls.
“Whew.” I cleared my throat.
He smirked and crooked a finger at me. Come, princess.
“Don’t mind if I do,” I mumbled under my breath. “I’ll never reach that thing.”
“I’ll help you.” He positioned me with my back to his chest and gripped my waist. “Maybe lose the tee first?”
Smug bastard. Oh, fine. I was wearing a sports bra underneath. If Patrick waltzed out of his house and wondered what the ruckus was, I wouldn’t look totally indecent. I dropped my shirt on the ground and earned myself a couple seconds of eye-fucking from Finnegan.
“Ready?” His voice came out huskier.
“Not one bit.” I looked up and squinted, and as he lifted me off the ground, I raised my arms. “Crap!” Merely hanging from the bar wasn’t a walk in the cake. I mean park. Okay, I was hungry. Maybe I was obsessed with cake. “You can’t leave me here, Finnegan!”
His laugh was carefree and booming. “I’m not leaving you.” He’d stepped in front of me, though. He could see me making an ass of myself. He’d watch me fall. “Try to pull yourself up. And quit flappin’ your feet. You’ll just lose your grip.”
I groaned through a whine and scowled up at the bar. How cool would it be if I blew his mind by completing at least one chin-up? Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes, and I heaved… With all my strength. My arms trembled and grew hotter and hotter. Had the sun set them on fire?
“Ugh!” I almost tumbled to the ground as I straightened my arms again. “How…how…” Fuck. I couldn’t breathe. “How close did I get?”
Finnegan cleared his throat. “Oh…four, five inches?”
“What!” I squeaked. “That’s so lame!”
“Now we know where you’re at, though.” He stepped forward and slid his hands up my hips and waist. “You should be outlawed, baby.” He grazed his lips down my nonexistent abs, only to move up again. With his tongue. He licked a hot trail up my stomach, and I let out a noise that sounded like hhuungh.
“Finnegan.” I gasped, torn between panic and overwhelming arousal. Panic because I was slipping, slipping, slipping. “Eeep!” I wrapped my legs around his chest. A second later, I lost my grip.
Then I was sliding down his body until I was lowered to the grass and covered by one turned-on Finnegan O’Shea. All the air left my lungs as he pressed his thick cock against me and kissed me like a starving man.
My brain short-circuited from all the sensations. The grass tickled me, his sensual touches and kisses melted me, the excitement set off shiver after shiver, and I needed, needed, needed.
Finnegan made me feel normal. Like I didn’t come from nothing and had even less to offer. His presence was immense a
nd intense, and when he aimed all his attention at me, I didn’t stand a chance.
I tore away when black spots filled my vision and my lungs demanded air. Finnegan continued. He left openmouthed kisses along my neck and collarbone. Our position flooded me with memories from early this morning and what we’d done. From his gentle touches whenever he was near my stupid marks, to his dirty words in my ear and his fingers buried inside me.
“Finnegan,” I moaned.
He hummed, pinching my nipple through my bra, and returned to my mouth. “I can’t keep my hands off of you.”
“Good.” I sucked in a breath and swiveled my hips as he thrust against me. “Fuck, that feels…” Perfect.
Before things to could get too wild, he slowed the kiss down. With his forehead resting to mine, we caught our breaths and enjoyed the moment. The arousal simmered below the surface, but something else stole my focus when I opened my eyes.
In the bright light of the sun, the dark copper in his hair was almost more prominent than the chestnut brown. I traced his beard with my fingers, across his lips, up along his nose… His eyes were out of this world, and they weren’t solely gunmetal at all. There were flecks of green in there. Like the darkest forest.
I stopped breathing and noticed he was watching me just as intensely. It was as if he was trying to figure something out.
“I thought I knew exactly what I was signing up for with you,” he murmured. “I’ve never been happier to be wrong.”
I released a shaky breath and splayed my fingers on his chest. His heart was drumming fast.
“You’re stuck with me now.” I mustered half a smile. There was a voice at the back of my mind, sounding suspiciously like Sarah. She warned me to keep my feelings in check.
“For life, if I have any say.”
He couldn’t mean that. Not truly.
He tilted his head for a beat, then sighed and faced me again. “We’re about to have company.”
“Who?” I lifted my head off the ground and looked toward the gates. “Oh my God, is that your parents?”
“No,” he chuckled. “It’s Patrick.”
“Oh.” I relaxed again. “I thought he was in his house.” Which reminded me… “Um, where’s Alec and Nessa?”
“Probably back in Chicago by now. Pop picked them up yesterday, which you wouldn’t remember ’cause you were out cold.”
I flicked my gaze between his eyes, my brow furrowing. “He was here? When I was here?”
“Aye, he checked your pulse and shit. I was worried sick, you know.”
I could process Finnegan’s worry much, much later. I couldn’t freaking believe Shannon O’Shea had given me some checkup, and I didn’t know it.
“Well, that’s embarrassing,” I muttered, my head landing on the grass with a thump. Christ, more like humiliating. “I looked like a train wreck.”
Finnegan smirked faintly. “It’s cute that your biggest worry is your appearance. A few weeks ago, you would’ve said something else.”
“I don’t think you should remind me of that,” I said pointedly. Farther away, the gates were opening.
“Good advice.” He nodded once before helping me up.
I wasn’t ready for our bubble to burst, but I didn’t have much of a choice. Patrick exited his car, and Sarah was there too. He must’ve gone to pick her up.
“I’ll fix breakfast.” Finnegan kissed the side of my head, then left, probably to give me a moment alone with Sarah. Which I wasn’t sure I wanted. She was the voice of reason, and she’d have no issue delivering a reality check.
Patrick offered a two-fingered wave on the way to his house. “How you doin’, hon?”
“Better, thanks,” I replied. “Thank you for being there yesterday.”
“Of course.” He winked and disappeared with Finnegan.
As Sarah made her way over to me, I picked up our discarded tees and Finnegan’s water bottle. In an attempt to hide some of my bruises, I put my shirt back on. Ugh, sticky. I couldn’t wait to shower.
“Hi.” I put a smile on my face so she wouldn’t see any of my worries.
She didn’t respond at all. When she reached me, she just threw her arms around me and held me tightly.
Emotions surged up without my damn permission, and I hugged her back. “I’m okay, Sarah. I promise.”
“You have to agree to Finnegan’s proposal, Em,” she croaked. “You can’t stay in town anymore. I could kill your dad—”
“Hey. Honey.” I halted her before she could really get going, and I ended the hug to show her my ring.
Her jaw dropped at the sight of it. “Holy fucking shit!” At my laugh, she made a noise and grabbed my hand. “Oh my God, it’s gorgeous. How can it both be adorable and flashy?”
“I know. That’s what I said.” The baby blue of the diamond at the center made it lovely. Then the small diamonds all around the big one—and the ring—cranked up the extravagance.
She beamed at me. “You said yes.”
I nodded, unable to speak for some reason. She looked so relieved.
Would she still be relieved if she knew how close Finnegan and I had become?
My fierce best friend was all about strategy and putting herself first for once.
I was getting lost navigating through all these feelings.
“You have no idea how happy this makes me,” she said, her eyes welling up. “Tell me everything. Christ—” She was back to inspecting the ring. “This sure makes the other one look cheap.”
Okay, that irked me. The Claddagh ring that used to belong to Finnegan’s grandmother meant a lot to me. Where the engagement ring allowed me to indulge in feeling like a freaking…well, princess, the delicate silver ring on my index finger carried a deeper meaning.
“Tell me how it happened,” she repeated. “And what’re the plans? Are we good to finally fuck off from this town?”
She had no idea.
Chapter 17
Emilia Porter
A few hours later, I had a ridiculous number of butterflies in my stomach. The morning had passed in a blur that was kind of hard to digest. In a good way, but…almost in a too good to be true way.
Sarah had made one comment that’d been difficult to address. She’d seen Finnegan lying on top of me in the grass, and she’d studied me closely when I somewhat bluntly admitted we had good chemistry. And I owned it, right there in front of her. I believed it as I said the words. It was okay for me to enjoy this. Sarah’s words, after all. It didn’t change anything because I knew what kind of contract I was going to sign very soon. It was business. Only, it wouldn’t stop me—us—from enjoying each other. Finnegan and I happened to get along, and we were obviously drawn to each other.
I didn’t mention to Sarah just how drawn we were. The important thing was, Sarah had agreed with me, and she was glad I could find happiness in this for the moment. As long as the end goal was the same. In three years, she and I would walk away.
I ignored the feeling that’d come over me at that ’cause, frankly, I wasn’t ready to deal with it.
After that little conversation, Sarah had jumped in, headfirst. The four of us had eaten breakfast together on the patio, and she’d said if Finnegan and I were gonna spend more time in the city, she wanted to do the same. We were two girls who’d waited for this for so long. Hell, I hadn’t even thought this day would come. Now, I was in the car with Finnegan, and we were officially on our way to Philadelphia.
Patrick was staying behind with Sarah to help her pack up her stuff and check out of the motel, and then they’d meet us for dinner in the city tonight. Tonight! It was unbelievable. Within the hour, I would walk into Finnegan’s condo, and it would become my home too.
“When was the last time you were in Philly?” he asked.
“When I was fourteen,” I answered right away. Because I remembered it so clearly. Our class had gone to DC and Philadelphia on a school trip. It’d been an awesome weekend.
“But it’s only a coup
le hours away.”
I lifted a shoulder and looked out the window. The forests were gone, replaced by fields and suburbs. “I haven’t traveled much.” Twice was the most accurate answer, aside from a handful of visits to Philadelphia. When I was twelve, Dad took me to Destin in Florida because my grandmother had lived there. She’d died, and Dad had hoped to make a buck off of her belongings.
He hadn’t.
Finnegan grabbed my hand and kissed it. “We’ll get you a few passports and make up for lost time.”
I looked at him strangely. “A few passports?”
He cleared his throat and let out a chuckle. “I guess we like to fly under the radar in my family. It’s good to have a few names you can use.”
And so it began.
I folded my arms over my chest and stared out the window. Finnegan didn’t strike me as a guy who misspoke. He was going to drop little bombshells like this one until they either stopped fazing me or they became too much. I couldn’t even begin to grasp the fraud that was part of a crime organization. Fake travel documents, fake signatures, fake promises.
I knew this, though. It was the price to pay. I’d gain my freedom at the end, but the cost was steep. Only a week ago, I’d thought I could help the FBI do their job. How wrong had I been? If Finnegan was going to give me these anecdotes of insignificant crimes—in the grand scheme of things—I’d be sitting on a wealth of information before I knew it. And I wouldn’t have the balls to risk getting caught, so he bought a lot more than three years from me. He was buying my loyalty.
“It’s for our safety, Emilia.”
Sure, whatever. “How does it even work?” I asked. “Your face was once plastered across the news.” Granted, I hadn’t seen any recent photos of anyone in the SoM. Finnegan and Patrick had grown up enough in ten years. Still, Shannon…? All the others from the older generation? “Anyone over thirty remembers everything that went down in Philly.”
“Do you remember?” he asked curiously.
“Not much. Names and charges, I guess. There were like, eighteen murders.”
