by Jill Shalvis
And he kisses like sex on a stick . . . “And he works too hard.”
“And you think what?” he asked dubiously. “That you’re going to change that?”
“He needs a life,” she said far more defensively than she’d meant to. “He was robbed of his.”
“Not your fault, Pru,” Jake said with firm gentleness.
“Well I know that.”
“Do you?”
“Yes!” she said, not gently.
“Then why are you working your way into his life?”
A most excellent question.
“You didn’t work your way into the life of any of the others,” he said. “You did what you could and you stayed back, letting them move on without your presence. But not here, not with Finn. Which begs the question, chica—why?”
Again, a most excellent question. But she had the answer for this one, she just didn’t want to say it out loud.
Finn was different.
And he was different because she wanted him in her life in a way she hadn’t wanted anyone for a very long time.
Maybe ever.
“You know what I think?” Jake asked.
“No, but I’m pretty sure you’re going to tell me.”
“I think, Smartass,” he went on undeterred by her sarcasm, “that he’s different because you have feelings for him.”
No kidding. And she could have added that she was thrown off balance by that very thing. Confused too, because she’d never felt this way about anyone and she didn’t want to hurt him. She didn’t, but that left her digging a pretty damn big hole for herself. “I said I don’t want to discuss this with you.”
“Fine. Then discuss it with him.”
“I will. Soon. But I can’t just spit it out, it’s a lot to throw at someone. It’s only been a few days, I’ll get there.”
Jake just looked at her for a long beat. “I was at the pub last night.”
She froze. “What? I didn’t see you.”
“I don’t see how you could have, since you didn’t take your eyes off Finn.”
Crap.
“I saw you with him. I saw the look on your face. And I saw the look on his. People are falling, Pru. Denying it is stupid, and one thing you aren’t and never have been, is stupid.”
“Okay, now you’re just being ridiculous.” But then she remembered Finn’s unexpected kiss, that amazing, heart-stopping, gut-tightening, nipples-getting-happy kiss, and folded her arms over her chest. “Seriously ridiculous,” she added and then paused. “You really think he could fall for me?”
Jake’s eyes softened. “Any guy with a lick of sense would. But chica, you’ve got to—”
“—tell him, yeah, yeah, I know.”
“Before it goes too far,” he pressed. “Before you sleep with him.”
“I’m not going to—”
Jake held up his hand. “Don’t say something that you’re going to have to take back, Pru. I was there.” He gave her a grim smile. “Don’t make me prove how much I love you by going behind your back to protect you by telling him myself.”
She stared at him. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me,” he said. “And since I’ve got you all good and pissed off at me, you might as well remember something else as well. If you sleep with him before everything’s square, I’ll have to kill him for taking advantage of you when you’re still messed up.”
“I’m not messed up—” she started and then stopped. Because she was. She was so messed up. “Don’t even think about interfering. This is my problem to handle.” And with that, she strode into what had been her old room, grabbed one of her last boxes of stuff, and turned to go.
“Pru.”
She stopped but didn’t turn around. Instead she looked down at the box she held. It was labeled PICTURES, and she felt her heart clutch. She’d left this one for nearly last on purpose. Everything in it meant something to her and holding it all in her arms made her heart heavier than the box itself. It was almost more than she could bear, making her wish she’d grabbed one of the other few boxes left, like the one labeled KITCHEN CRAP I PRETEND TO USE BUT DON’T.
“You know I’ve got your back,” Jake said.
She sighed and closed her eyes. “Even if I screw it all up?”
“Especially if.”
Chapter 9
#RealWorldProblems
In the end, Pru and Thor and Pru’s big box of stuff took a cab back to the Pacific Pier building. They had to get out a block early because of traffic, which meant dragging Thor on his leash and carrying the box, which got heavier with each step.
In the courtyard she stopped by the fountain and set the box down for a minute to catch her breath.
Thor plopped down at her feet, panting like he was dying even though he’d barely had to walk at all and he certainly hadn’t had to carry a heavy box.
“Hey,” she said, “this adulting thing isn’t for the faint of heart.”
Thor gave the dog version of an eyeroll and huffed out a heavy sigh.
She took pity. “Look, I’m just trying to keep us in shape. Some of us are supposed to be in our prime.”
Thor was unimpressed.
She was about to coax him up to her apartment with another bribe when her phone rang. Tim.
She’d met him and his brother Nick after the accident, in the hospital. They’d spent a few days there with their mom, who’d needed surgery to repair her badly broken leg. Michelle had been unable to work for months afterward, a huge strain on the family. They’d lost their apartment and had lived in their car until Pru had been able to sell her parents’ house and help.
Michelle had easily accepted her friendship but not the money. In the end, Pru had made an anonymous donation through her attorney. All Michelle knew was that someone in the community had come up with funds to help her and her boys out.
At the time the boys had been in middle school and Pru had been so worried about them. But Nick was working for Jake now and Tim was in college studying to be an engineer.
She was so happy for them.
“Tim,” she said when she answered. “Everything okay?”
“That lead you gave me on the apartment near campus, it might pan out,” he said excitedly. “They’re going to call you as my reference. If we get it, me and my friends will live there together.”
“That would be great, Tim,” she said.
“You know how hard it is to get a place here,” he said. “Almost impossible.”
She did know. It’d taken a hell of a long time for her to get into the Pacific Pier building.
“Anyway,” he said. “Thanks for the lead. It means a lot.” He laughed a little humorlessly. “We aren’t looking forward to living in our cars. Been there, done that.”
“No worries,” Pru said, her stomach jangling unhappily at the memory. “How’s school going?”
“Hard as fuck, but I’m in it,” he said. “Gotta go. Talk to you soon.”
Pru disconnected and looked at Thor. “We did good. They’re going to be okay,” she marveled. “All of them.” And then she called her contact and put in a second good word for Tim, and was assured they were first in line for the place. It warmed her from the inside out to know it.
Now you need to get okay . . .
But she was working on that. “Come on, let’s go.”
Thor yawned.
“You know, I could have a cat. A big one who eats little dogs for snacks.”
He blinked and she sighed. “Okay, I took that too far. I’m sorry.” She crouched down and hugged him in, which he graciously allowed, even giving her a sweet little lick on her cheek. “Love you too,” she murmured, kissing the top of his head. “I’m not going to get a cat.” She could barely afford to feed the two of them.
She’d never even meant to get a dog at all, but about a year ago, she’d been walking home late one night when she’d heard a funny rumbling sound coming from behind a dumpster. She’d stopped to investigate, but the rumbling
had stopped. It was only when she’d started walking again that the rumbling came back.
Pru had walked around the dumpster. Crouching low, using the flashlight on her phone, she’d fallen back on her ass when two glowing orbs had locked in on her.
Scrambling up to run, she realized the rumbling had stopped again and she slowly turned back. Channeling her inner Super Girl, she’d moved closer and had peered down at a scrap of fur surrounding those two huge eyes.
Thor, underfed, filthy, and trembling in terror. It’d taken a bribe to get him out, and another before he’d let her pick him up. All she’d had on her was a granola bar but he’d not been picky. Or dainty. He’d nearly bitten her finger off in his haste to eat.
And Pru, who’d been known to snarl herself when hungry, had fallen in love.
Straightening now with Thor in her arms, her gaze caught on the window across the way.
Finn’s office.
The pub wasn’t open. The accordion doors were shut and locked, but the morning sun slanted inside. She could see Finn behind his desk, head down. He was either dead, or fast asleep.
Both she and Thor stared at him. “I know,” she whispered to her dog. “He’s something. But you can’t get attached to him, because once I tell him everything, it’s over.”
Thor set his head on her shoulder. He loved her no matter how stupid she was being.
Leaving her box and Thor—his leash wrapped around a bench—to guard it, she quickly crossed the courtyard to the coffee shop.
Tina stood behind the counter. Tall, curvy, and gorgeous, she had skin the color of the mocha latte she was serving. When it was Pru’s turn, Tina smiled. “Your usual?” she asked, her voice low and deep and hypnotic.
“No, this one’s not for me,” Pru said. “It’s for a friend. Um, you don’t happen to know how Finn O’Riley likes it, do you?”
Tina smiled wide. “Sugar, he likes it hot and black.”
“Oh. Okay, um . . . one of those then.”
Tina laughed her contagious laugh and got it ready. When she handed it over, there was a dog biscuit wrapped neatly in a napkin to go. “For Thor,” she said. “And how about some advice that you didn’t ask for?”
Pru bit her lower lip. Was she that obvious? “Yes, please.”
“Two things. First, don’t even try to speak to him before he’s caffeinated. That man is hot as hell and a great guy, but he’s also a bear before his coffee.”
“And the second thing?”
“There’s no doubt, he’s a serious catch,” Tina said. “But he’s barricaded himself off behind work. So if you want him, you’re going to have to show him what he’s missing.”
“I’m think I’m working on that.”
Tina grinned at her. “Because you’re the Fun Whisperer?”
Oh, God. “You heard that, huh?”
“Sugar, I hear everything.” Tina winked at her, making Pru wonder if that meant that she’d also heard about Pru nearly killing him. Or their first kiss . . .
“Good luck,” Tina said. “My money’s on you.”
Pru took the coffee and dog cookie and headed back through the courtyard. Finn was still asleep. She gave Thor his treat and put her finger to her lips. “Stay,” she said and stepped into the planter that lined the building.
Thor ignored her and attacked his cookie.
Pru, draped on either side by two hydrangea bushes, knocked on Finn’s window.
He shot straight up, a few papers stuck to his cheek. His hair was tousled, his eyes sleepy, although they quickly sharpened in on her. His five o’clock shadow was now twelve hours past civilized. And holy cow, he was a damn fine sight.
Before she even saw him coming, he’d crossed his office and opened the window, looking far more alert upon wakening than she’d ever managed.
“What the hell are you doing?” he asked, in the sexiest morning voice she’d ever heard.
“Got you something,” she said. “It’s not a waffle but . . .” She lifted the coffee and added a smile, trying to not look as if she hadn’t just sweat her way through the courtyard with Thor and a heavy box of painful memories—impossible since her shirt was sticking to her and so was her hair. She didn’t have to look in any mirror to know that she was beet red in the face, her usual after-exercise “glow.”
Finn climbed out the window with easy agility. Pru backed up a step to give him room but he kept coming, stepping right into her space, reaching for the cup like a starved man might reach for a promised meal.
Clearly the man was serious about needing coffee. She stared up at him as he took the cup and drank deeply.
She might have also drooled a little bit.
“Thanks,” he said after a long moment. “Most people won’t come within two miles of me before I’m caffeinated.”
Not wanting to tell him that Tina had already warned her because she didn’t want to admit to soaking up info on him whenever and however she could, she just smiled. “How’s the hole in your chest?”
He absently reached up and rubbed a hand over his pec, a completely unconscious but very male gesture. “Think I’m going to live,” he said.
She eyeballed his hair and the crease on his cheek where papers had been stuck to him. “Living the wild life, huh?”
“The wildest.” He looked past her. “So who’s the fat cat?”
She turned and followed his line of sight to Thor, who’d curled up in a sunspot next to her box to doze. “I’ll have you know that’s my fierce, very protective guard dog.”
“Dog?”
“Yes!”
He scratched his jaw while eyeing Thor speculatively. “If you say so.”
“He protects me,” she said. “In fact, he won’t let anyone get near me. And don’t even think about trying to touch him, he hates men.”
“Not me,” Finn said. “Dogs love me.”
“No, really—” she started but Finn crossed the courtyard and crouched low, holding his hand out to Thor, who had opened his eyes and was watching Finn approach.
“Careful—” Pru warned. “He’s like you without caffeine, only he’s like that all the time. He might nip—”
To her utter shock, Thor actually moved toward Finn in a flutter of bravery, his little paws taking him a step closer, his tail wagging in a hopeful gesture that, as always, made Pru’s heart hurt.
Then, unbelievably, Thor licked Finn’s fist.
“Atta boy,” Finn said approvingly in an easy voice full of warmth and affection. “She says you’re a dog, what do you think?”
Thor panted happily and rolled over, exposing his very soft, slightly enlarged belly.
“What’s his name?” Finn asked, head bent, loving up on her dog.
She glared at Thor. “Benedict Arnold.”
Benedict Arnold ignored her completely and she sighed. “Thor.”
Finn snorted. “A real killer, huh?”
“Yes, actually, he—”
And that’s when Thor strained to reach up and lick Finn’s chin. Pru couldn’t exactly blame him, she wanted to do the same.
And then . . . her poor-sighted, man-hater of a dog climbed right into Finn’s arms and melted like butter on a hot roll. Except minus the hot roll and add a hot guy.
“I can’t believe it,” she said to herself, watching as Thor settled against Finn’s chest like he belonged there, setting his head on Finn’s broad shoulder.
“You were saying?” he asked on a soft laugh.
She stared at him, a little dazzled by the laugh. And then there was that stubble and she wondered . . . if he kissed her now and then nuzzled her throat like he had the other night, would it leave a whisker burn?
She wouldn’t mind that . . . “Do you have a dog?” she asked.
“No, but someday,” he said, reminding her of what Willa had told her, that he wanted a house outside the city and a big dog.
“So what are you doing today?” he asked.
She pointed to the box. “Unpacking some more.”
<
br /> “And you say I need a fun whisperer,” he teased.
“You were asleep at your desk,” she said. “My statement stands. You most definitely need a fun whisperer.”
“I’ll put fun on my calendar, how’s that sound?”
She laughed. “Planning the fun kinda takes the fun out of fun. And anyway, maybe it’s also about adventure. Spontaneous adventure.”
“I don’t know,” he murmured, watching her as he still stroked Thor into a pleasure coma. “I can think of a few things that if planned right, would be the epitome of fun and adventurous.”
She lifted her gaze from her dog’s contented face to Finn’s and found his eyes warm and lit with something. Amusement? Challenge? “Like?”
He set Thor down, back in the sunspot, and rising to his full height, shifted toward Pru.
She backed up a step, a purely instinctual move because while her body knew how badly it wanted him, her mind was all too well aware that it was a colossally stupid move of the highest order.
He merely stepped forward again, backing her flush to the brick wall lining the courtyard.
Her breathing had gone ragged. Even more so when he leaned into her with his hands on either side of her head. “You’re a contradiction,” he murmured. “A push pull.”
“Maybe it’s because we’re oil and water,” she managed.
Hands still on her, blocking her escape—not that she wanted to escape those strong arms and that talented mouth—he flashed her a hot look. “Do you want this, Pru?”
She wasn’t one hundred percent certain what “this” was, but she was one hundred percent certain that she wanted it. And God help her, she wanted it bad, too. When she gave a jerky nod, his hand came up and cupped her jaw, his fingers sliding into her hair, his thumb slowly, lazily, rasping over her lower lip. He watched the movement with a heat that made her legs wobble.
She swallowed hard. “We’re in the center of the courtyard.”
“What happened to adventurous?” he murmured, his thumb making another slow, intoxicating pass over her lip.
As always, her mouth worked independently of her brain and opened so she could sink her teeth lightly into the pad of his thumb.
He hissed in a breath. The sound egged her on and she sucked his thumb between her lips.
