Driving to You (H1.5)

by Marquita Valentine

  Finn walked around to the back, bag of chips in his hand. His eyes widened in disbelief.

  Great. Now she wanted to slump down in her seat and hide. Instead she rolled down the window and asked, “What are you doing here?”

  “Moving,” he said, popping a chip in his mouth.

  “Into my house?” She shook her head, hair flying everywhere. “No, uh-uh, no way. Not happening.”

  “Settle down, preggo, I’m moving next door. Figured you wouldn’t mind your new neighbor borrowing your driveway for a couple of hours.”

  She impersonated a fish gasping for air for several long seconds while he calmly ate chip after chip, then her brain kicked into gear. Finn had moved here, beside her. To be with her and the baby.

  A ribbon of warmth wove around her and she wanted to cry in happiness. Stupid hormones. “How long?”

  “Thirty minutes, give or take a few. Why don’t you leave this here and I’ll move it when the guys are done,” he offered.

  Well, she was tired. Actually, she was exhausted and wanted to do nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep for the next hundred years. “Fine. Don’t scratch the paint job when you do.”

  Grinning as he opened the door for her, she turned up her nose at his hand and quickly made her way to her house. “I’m digging the new ride, babe. You make anything look good.”

  “Whatever,” she tossed over her shoulder. Secretly, she was pleased with his compliments and the look of admiration in his eyes. Call her shallow, but after years of second guessing every decision she made, it was nice to have immediate support.

  Once inside, she threw her purse on the couch, her shoes in the closet, peeled off her clothes and tumbled into bed. In what seemed like seconds later, she was waking up to Finn calling her name.

  “I’m sleeping,” she grumbled, burying herself more deeply in the covers. His heavy footsteps sounded and she frowned. That damn man forgot to take off his shoes.

  A large hand stroked her head gently. “It’s almost six in the evening. You need to eat.”

  “I need to sleep,” she argued, then her stomach growled.

  He laughed. “I brought you dinner.”

  That made her perk up and sit up, putting her bare breasts on display. Gasping, she covered them from his very intense stare, then glared at him. “Stop ogling me.”

  “How about I feed you instead?” He turned, bringing a tray with little legs that fit perfectly over her lap. “Some soup, fresh bread and a little dessert—strawberry ice cream—if you’re up to it.”

  The aroma of chicken noodle soup washed over her and suddenly, she was ravenous. She ate the entire bowl of soup, all the bread and half the dessert before she realized that he was still sitting beside her, not speaking or eating. “Want some,” she said around a mouthful of ice cream. A couple of cold drops fell to her chest and she shivered.

  “Oh, yeah.” His blue eyes flicked to her chest, staring at the tops of her breasts.

  She put down the spoon. “Get this off of me first.”

  He dipped his head and she leaned back, allowing him to lick the ice cream off of her. His tongue was soft against her skin. The covers dropped to her waist and she felt his finger, cold and wet, circle a nipple. Then his hot mouth opened over it and he began to suck, in hard tugs that she could feel between her thighs. The more he sucked, the wetter she got.

  Over and over he painted her nipples with ice cream, until she was shaking with need. Desperate to have him. One of his hands found her thigh, the other moving the tray to the floor. Higher and higher his fingers climbed, until he sank two deep inside of her.

  Then he kissed her, sinking his tongue in her mouth in the same lazy glide as his fingers. “Come on my fingers, sweetheart,” he whispered against her lips.

  She moaned in response and widened her thighs, sending him deeper. He shifted, his head going to her lap. The stroke of his tongue had her crying out. Sweet torture. She watched as his head moved, his dark hair soft against the inner skin of thighs. Another lick and she jerked her hips. His fingers curled at the exact moment he sucked hard on her clit.

  A scream tore from her throat and she dug her fingers into his hair, gripping the strands tightly. When she came back to her earth, Finn was kissing his way up her thigh, her stomach, and nipped at each nipple until his mouth found hers once more.

  “Let me,” –her hands went to the fly of his pants and he stood up, beside the bed—“return the favor.” She quickly unbuttoned them and pulled out his very large cock, then she wrapped her mouth around the head.

  She licked and sucked, taking him to the back of her throat again and again, until his hand fisted in her hair and he directed the pace. “Love watching you like this. Oh yeah, right there…just like that. Suck it.” His hips moved faster and faster and she kept right up with him. “Stop,” he suddenly growled, slowly but surely extricating himself from her mouth and hand. “I didn’t come—”

  “You would have, if you’d let me finish,” April said, confused.

  He turned around, the sound of his zipper going up loud in her bedroom. Muttering a few curse words, he turned to face her again. “I didn’t come over for sex, of any kind. I wanted to do something nice, not—” He grabbed the tray and left the room. She heard him rummaging around in her kitchen, then the front door slammed.

  April sat there, stunned. What had just happened?

  ***

  The next morning, April found Finn in her backyard, repairing the gargantuan swing set/tree house/fort/slide combo.

  “Good morning,” she said softly, coming to stand by him. He worked at the chains on the swings, covering the metal with a protective plastic covering.

  “Speaking to me, are you?”

  She sighed. “I wasn’t the one who left.”

  The sun shone in his eyes and he squinted at her. “But you were the one who wouldn’t answer my texts last night.”

  Her cheeks heated. “My phone’s not working.”

  “Since when?”

  Since the governor had kept his promise of cutting her off. She had forgotten his office paid for the service plan. He’d also cancelled her credit cards and closed her checking account. Well, the one that was in both of their names. However, a few years back, she had gotten a wild hair and had decided to start putting money away in one of the local banks in Charlotte.

  Thank God for wild hairs, she silently mused. “Right after you left.”

  He went back to work on the swings. “Convenient.”

  More like humiliating. “Sorry,” she said and his attention snapped to her.

  “Don’t say that.” He let go of the chain and placed his hands low on his hips, still squinting from the sun. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I messed up. I lied to you and I’m sorry. Jesus, I can’t say it enough to make myself feel better. For what it’s worth, I leased my apartment in Uptown, bought the house beside you and signed up for partner-parenting classes at the community center. My last name is Kennedy, Burke’s my middle name and I own Kennedy Investigations, but I don’t advertise it, since I like to actually take on jobs.” He came to her then, wrapping his arms around her. “I’m sorry, April. And I want to make it up to you. To our baby. I’ll never lie to you again. Ask me anything.”

  She couldn’t move as he held her and not because she was imprisoned by his arms. Oh no. She was imprisoned by his words, by his actions…by the thought of him trying and doing.

  Taking a chance she asked, “Why don’t you come inside and let me fix you some iced tea?”

  ***

  Over the weeks that followed, it seemed that all Finn did was try to earn her trust back. He’d check on her, fix things that need it, cooked her dinner and accompanied her to doctor visits. All done in such a way that never made her feel crowded or uncomfortable

  He never insisted, always asked, and the walls surrounding her poor heart got weaker every day. Only she wasn’t sure if he was doing this to be with her, with the baby or a sense of duty to fami
ly.

  If only she knew his feelings. If only she was woman enough to ask him.

  Things were growing worse with her dad. She had refused to take any call from him, ignored his emails and his letters. She didn’t care what he threatened. There was no way she would go back to her old life or her old self.

  But that nagging feeling that her dad wouldn’t be put off for much longer remained.

  Chapter Seven

  “For the love of God, woman, please don’t ever ask me to do that again,” Finn groaned.

  They’d just spent an hour in one of the community centers, watching a DVD of women giving birth. Now, thank God, they were now on their way home. Well, not their home. He still lived next to her and she still lived next to him. But they were talking and spending time together, almost like old times if he didn’t think about the lack of sex.

  But he was a man, so he constantly thought about the lack of sex with her. He only wanted sex with her, despite the numerous opportunities he had in the past month.

  April spared him a glance as they walked down North Davidson. The wind gusted, giving truth to the whole March coming in like a lion saying. “Bless your heart, Finn.”

  “That means I’ve stuck my foot in it,” he said. “Guess I’ll be going to as many as you want me to, then.”

  “You don’t have to go to any at all, you know,” she said softly.

  He nodded. “I do.”

  Avoiding a mother pushing a stroller, he moved to the right side of April and their fingers brushed. His gut clenched, his libido jumped up and down like a dog wanting to play catch. He jerked his hand away like she’d set it on fire. He didn’t know how much longer he could take her friendship.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, her big blue eyes taking him in.

  Yep, nothing but friendship there. He was so screwed and not the way he wanted to be. “Trying to maintain, ba—April.” She frowned. At his almost slip of calling her babe or his flip reply, he didn’t know. “So, I was wondering if you were free tomorrow night? Thought we could go to dinner, then back to my place for a movie.”

  She laughed as they made a right onto Thirty-Sixth Street. “It’s amazing how free your social calendar becomes once you stop going to all the places your single friends like to go.”

  “Hey, I’m single and your friend,” he said and she laughed again. “And I’m asking you out.”

  Stopping at his driveway, she gazed up at him and strange look in her eyes. The setting sun highlighted her pretty face. “Are you asking me out as a friend or as a guy?”

  “C’mon, April.” He had to look away from her knowing eyes. “Thought we were besties now. Hell, Hunter is jealous of all the time we’ve been spending together.”

  “Then maybe you should ask him out.” She left him standing there, shoving her hands in her coat as she made her way to her side of their property fence.

  Way to go, dumbass. The luck of the Irish was definitely not with him tonight. “Night, April.”

  She didn’t respond, just walked up her driveway, up the porch stairs and let herself inside. Out of habit, he waited for her to turn on an interior light and lock her door before he went inside.

  Tomorrow, if she would speak to him, he would apologize. Perhaps even bring her some grapefruit covered in hot sauce. Ugh. He had no idea what that dreadful combination made her so happy.

  A pounding on the front door woke him out of a dead sleep. Pulling on a pair of pajama bottoms, he yawned and started for the door. He smacked his toe along the way and began to hop like a deranged Easter Bunny. “Motherfu—”

  The pounding started up again.

  “I’m coming. I’m coming.” He punched in the security code before unlocking his door and opening it. April nearly fell into his arms.

  “I’m sorry,” she said on a hiccup, then began to speak at him, a rush of words that ran together. “Buthehadallmy-myutilitiescuto-off, and I had a noteab-boutmyhouse, myhorribleminivan. And he foundoutaboutmymoney. Oh God, Finn, I’ms-scaredandhaven-no one b-but you.”

  Still not fully awake or comprehending what she was saying, he gently guided her into the house, flipping on the living room lights along the way. After getting her settled on the couch, he sat down beside her. She had a death grip on his hand.

  “Start from the beginning and go slowly,” he said.

  A shudder racked her body. “He kept his promise.”

  “Who’s ‘he’?” he asked, wrapping a blanket around her bare shoulders. She wore nothing but a yellow tank top, green shorts and flip-flops. He wanted to lecture her for going outside in the middle of a freezing March night, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. She had come to him. Him. That had to mean something, right?

  “The Governor.” She stared off in the distance. “I thought I could do this, all by myself. I thought I didn’t need anyone.”

  Not even him? So much for coming to him. So much for the past month of dates, of tentative smiles and talks and baby classes. April still didn’t trust him. His fault though. “Everyone needs a little help now and again.”

  “I need more than a little help, Finn,” she said, her pretty eyes fixing on his face. “I’m broke. I have no insurance. No house, no phone, no lights or water. Not even that stupid minivan is mine anymore. He took it all away, just like he promised, because I couldn’t convince my ex to pretend that the baby was his. I couldn’t do it, Finn. I just couldn’t, especially after offering Carter money to be with me. I felt like a whore.”

  Swallowing down his righteous fury at the thought of his child being passed off as someone else’s, he said, “You are not a whore, April.”

  “No, I’m worse. I’m a liar and a horrible person to be around.”

  “A liar wouldn’t have told me the truth about the baby.”

  Big blue eyes blinked up at him, lashes all spiky and wet. “You’re not mad at me?”

  Oh, he was mad all right, but not at her. Jesus, he hated to see her like this. So defeated and small. He knew her, knew she valued her independence above all things. Chad Billingsworth had to have done a number on April, using his political connections to take everything from her. “No, sweetheart.”

  She began to cry in earnest. “I don’t deserve you or your friendship.”

  He couldn’t take her crying, not like this. “ What can I do? Tell me what you need and I’ll take care of it.” Both of their prideful natures be damned.

  “Can I move in with you, just for a little while? After I get a job, I’ll pay you, then after the baby’s born…” Her lower lip trembled and she buried her face in her hands. “Oh God, who’s going to hire a pregnant woman?”

  “Me,” he blurted. Oh hell, he was totally going to regret this. It was hard enough to keep his distance now, but to see her at his office everyday…He was taking the next client’s request, no matter how small.

  “Really?” She lifted her head. “But what would I do?”

  “Ah, remind me what you went to university for.”

  “Interior design,” she said with a little sniff. “I refused to major in political science, like every other Billingsworth who went to Carolina. I refused go to Carolina, too.”

  He ruffled her hair. “Rebel.”

  “It’s okay. I’m pretty sure an Investigation firm doesn’t need someone to mix patterns or pick out window treatments.” She stood, letting his blanket fall to the couch. “Sorry to have bothered you. I’ll go back to my place now. The Governor has given me thirty-six hours to vacate the property.”

  “Your dad’s a bastard, if you don’t mind me saying.” Finn joined her, taking her small hand in his.

  Their fingers curled around each other. For long moments, they did nothing but stand there, holding on to each other. She seemed no more inclined to let go than he did. So he stayed, rubbing his thumb along her skin and said nothing.

  Time seemed to slow as her gaze met his, beautifully blue and vulnerable as he’d ever seen. Her grip tightened and he took a step closer to her, bringi
ng their joined hands to his mouth. He kissed her knuckles, then simply held hand against his mouth and closed his eyes.

  Right then, it hit him. He had to say it. He opened his eyes and smiled. “I love you.”

  April tried snatching her hand out of his grip, but it was like vise. “No you don’t. You just feel sorry for me and want to make me feel better.”

  He gave her an incredulous look. “By saying I love you? Of all the reasons a man will say I love you, that isn’t one.”

  Oh God. She was totally screwing this up. The only thing that could make the whole situation worse was if she had said thank you to his confession. “So you mean it?”

  This time he let go of her hand and ran his fingers through his already messy-from-sleep hair. “It’s not a phrase I throw around, willy-nilly. Why do you think I bought this house, changed my entire life, my routine…everything?”

  “For the baby.”

  “And you. Package deal, remember?”

  Yeah, she remembered. Still a shred of doubt remained. “What if you don’t love me after the baby is born?”

  “I’ll love you after every baby is born,” he said, his words so firm and confident that she began to believe him. That she allowed the new walls she’d built around her heart to keep him from getting in again to crumble. “I’ll love you when we have lots of grandchildren and hardly any teeth.”

  A giggle escaped her, then a sob, until she was doing both. She had to tell him, had to get it out there before she destroyed her second chance at happiness, even if it scared her to death. “And I’ll love you when you’re fat and bald and can’t get it up anymore.”

  Grinning, he pulled her to him, let go of her hand and wrapped his arms around her. “Never fear, my darling. Viagra has made it so I can always get it up for you.”

  “You say the most romantic things, Finn Kennedy,” she said, her arms slipping around his neck. Rising on her tip-toes, she gently pressed her lips against his. He growled low in his throat and deepened the kiss, then swept her off her feet.