by Jo McNally
“I...I guess that was a bad choice o’ words, love.” He pressed a light kiss on her lips. “I didna’ mean to trivialize it. What went on between us was a lot more than...what I said. To be clear, I thought tonight was...incredible. I mean, girl, that was life-altering sex. You were...amazing.” He kissed her again, and she let herself melt a little this time, which prompted him to deepen the kiss. Finally, he pulled back, regret etched on his face. “No, I need to finish this thought before you distract me again. I’ll confess, I thought this would be a let’s-see-where-this-chemistry-takes-us night and we’d get it out of our system.”
Bridget stiffened, but he rushed on before she could protest. “I know, I know. That sounds bad, too, but admit it, you didn’t think we’d be all...that...all that we were...what we felt...”
Finn had a point. She thought this would be a night of uncomplicated sex and that’s it. She frowned. No, that wasn’t true, either. She’d known deep in her heart that there would be nothing simple about making love with Finn. And the tangle of feelings wrapped around her heart right now proved she’d been right.
“I guess,” she said softly, speaking her thoughts out loud, “we need to figure out what comes next.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “Next as in the next few hours? I have lots of ideas for that.”
“Uh...no. I mean next as in once the sun comes up.”
He stared at her for a moment, and she had to steel herself to keep from squirming under his earnest gaze. It felt as if he was examining her from the inside out.
“Bridget, I care for you. I’ll still care for you when daylight comes. But you were right earlier when you said we both have damaged hearts. We both needed to take a step toward moving on, to trust someone enough to have...intimacy. Passion.” He kissed her forehead. “Tonight was huge for both of us, but if you’re lookin’ for more...for love...I don’t think I have it in me... I may never have it in me to do another relationship.” She raised her brow, and he gave her that crooked grin she lov...liked so much. “Well, not a real relationship, anyway. My heart’s not ready. May never be ready.” He dropped his head and shook it back and forth. “God, I sound like some melancholy soap opera character from one of my mum’s favorite shows.” He sighed, then looked into her eyes. “What I’m sayin’ is I want more of what we’ve had tonight, but you need to know I may never be able to give more than...this.”
She could see the honesty in his face. He was putting it all on the table, and she appreciated that. She knew a little about his past, but apparently there was more to tell. A divorce that somehow forced him to lose his job and leave North Carolina. A drastic fall from grace that brought him from a prestigious university to a private college in Rendezvous Falls.
“Your divorce was that bad?”
His mouth got even tighter, his lips nearly vanishing. A muscle in his jaw twitched. But he didn’t look away.
“She fell in love with my best friend.”
Bridget didn’t breathe for a moment. She’d been betrayed by Clark, but not like this. No wonder Finn was so adamantly relationship phobic. Her heart broke for him. Talking to him always made her feel better, so she offered the same chance to him.
“Tell me about it.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
FINN GRIMACED. HIS divorce was the last thing he wanted to talk about with Bridget standing warm and soft in the circle of his arms. But they’d already lain naked together, and were talking about doing it on some sort of continuing basis, so she had a right to ask some personal questions. Not talking about important things was one of the reasons his marriage had failed.
“I lost my wife, my best friend and my job in the course of just a few weeks.” He tried to keep the edge from his voice, but the bitterness was still there. “So yeah, it was bad.”
“How did that happen?” Bridget settled back against his arms, and he finally realized she was standing while he sat.
“Come on.” He led her to the sofa. She curled up under his arm, her head on his shoulder. He tugged the throw from the back of the sofa and covered her legs with it—as much to avoid the distraction of her long, curving calves as to keep her warm. Once they were both settled, he took a deep breath and continued.
“It was the classic story, I guess. Boy meets girl. Boy falls in love. They get married. Girl falls in love with boy’s best friend and coworker.” Bridget took a sharp breath, but his hand kept her head on his shoulder. He needed to get through this. “Boy’s former best friend says something stupid at college commencement. Boy punches former friend in the face while on the podium in front of thousands. Boy loses his job as well as his girl. End of story.”
She pulled her head away from the hand that had been cradling it and stared at him, wide-eyed.
“You punched him? Good for you.”
“You can find video of it online, I’m sure. But I feel no pride in it. The school had a zero tolerance for violence, of course, so I lost a job I loved.” He paused. “I lost everything I loved.”
“I’m so sorry, Finn. How did you find out about their affair?”
He described how he’d been in denial for months. The signs were all there. Dori suddenly started taking all these evening classes and weekend trips “with the girls.” Finn was busy with a major paper he was writing, so he figured it was good that she was being independent. At least they weren’t fighting anymore.
At the same time, Vince, a teacher in the university’s school of medicine, became more evasive and distant with Finn. Made excuses to cancel their weekly tennis games and early coffee meetings before classes. Like a fool, Finn had been worried about his friend, pressing him to open up and “talk out” whatever was bothering him. It was an offer Vince had always turned down, of course, even though they’d shared so much in their years of friendship. As that final winter dragged on, Finn ended up feeling isolated, abandoned by those closest to him, with no idea why. For a man who didn’t mind being alone, he was suddenly very lonely.
“I didn’t put two and two together until the end of the final semester, at an alumni reception. I’m sure it had happened a dozen other times, but I didn’t see it until that night, when Dori and Vince stood together.” It was the worst night of his life. Worse than the divorce. Worse than the commencement ceremony. It was the moment he realized everything he thought he knew was a lie.
“I’d gone to the bar for drinks, and when I came back, there was just...something in how they were standing in the corner. The way they were talking so low, the look in their eyes, the way their hands brushed together. I stood there in the doorway, clutching three drinks in my hands, and realized I was staring at two people who were in love with each other.”
His chest tightened, reliving the shock and pain of that moment. “I think it would have better to catch them in bed or something, so I could tell myself it was ‘just sex’ or a slip-up that might be fixable, but...they were in love. With apparently no guilt at all. I’d known Vince for eight years. Dori and I had been married for six. And they’d both just...left me behind without a thought.”
That was the biggest betrayal of all. Not that they’d fallen in love with each other, but that they’d even given themselves the opportunity to fall in love without giving him the slightest clue that they were about to destroy his life.
“Of course,” he said, “losing my job was on me. I threw the punch. I’d confronted Dori that week and she’d confessed everything. She’d packed her bags two days before the commencement ceremony and moved right in with Vince. Just like that. I was...reeling...trying to grasp what was happening.” It was a miracle he was able to function at all. “Then Vince gave me some sort of smirking, superior grin, or at least that’s how I took it. I don’t know. Up until then, I hadn’t hit the anger phase of my reaction. I’d been in denial and shock. But sitting on the dais with him so soon after... The rage just came out of nowhere, and I...I completely lost
it.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “It’s the first time I’d ever punched anyone, and I put every ounce of my anger into the swing. Broke his nose. But there was no satisfaction in it. I think I was really more angry with myself than them, for not seeing what was right there in front of me. Angry that I could trust two people who would...”
“Whoa, easy there, big guy.” Bridget’s voice was low and smooth as she rubbed her hand on his chest. Her hand was right above his racing heart. He realized his whole body was tight and angry. Her fingers on his bare chest started to work their magic, though, and he drew in a steadying breath. She looked up at him with shining eyes. “I’m sorry to make you relive it. You don’t have to say anything else...”
His hand cupped her head against his shoulder again, but her fingers continued to stroke his skin with an even rhythm.
“Not much more to say. I lost everything that day. Some of the kids posted the video of it online and started calling me ‘slugger.’ Students do that shit to haze professors, and we usually ignore it. History departments tend to be very staid places, and no one wanted to hire Slugger. I gave myself a personal sabbatical and went on a research trip to Rome. Sitting in the Vatican’s library for a few months gave me the solitude I needed. But if I wanted to keep my work visa in the US, I had to come back and get a job.”
“You didn’t want to go back to Ireland?”
“I love my homeland, but I’ve lived in the States for over ten years now.”
“So how did you end up at little Brady College in Rendezvous Falls?”
“Well, like I said, my reputation was a bit too tarnished for the larger schools.” He gave her a sardonic grin. “Fisticuffs at commencement and all the scandal involved...I was a risk they weren’t willing to take.” He leaned back against the cushions. “But Howard Greer was willing to give me a chance. With conditions.”
She huffed a laugh against his chest. “Like getting engaged?”
“Yes, like feeling cornered enough to create a fake engagement. He wants me to prove my commitment. And I get that. He wants to get that new history building done while the endowment money is there so he can create a prestigious program before he retires. He’s probably hoping to have his name on it—his legacy. He wants me to anchor it all, but he also knows that eventually the bigger schools will come calling me again. Time heals all wounds and all that.” He’d already had inquiries from some West Coast universities, where his downfall hadn’t been as big a story on the grapevine.
“Are you going to leave?”
Something in Bridget’s voice made him pause. There was a weight to the way she’d asked the question, as if she was personally invested in the answer. After just one night—and not even a complete night at that. He looked at the kitchen clock. It wasn’t quite four o’clock. He kissed the top of her head and tried to deflect the question.
“I’m not packing my bags yet.”
“Yet?” She pulled back and glared at him. “You mean, you might? You’re thinking about it?”
“Well, I...”
She slugged him in the shoulder. “Then what the hell are we doing lying to everyone for this engagement thing? Why do you care about what Greer thinks if he’s right, and you’re leaving anyway?”
He shook his head sharply. “I can’t even think about going anywhere until I get my green card, and that takes time. And I don’t mind having some stability in my life after all that’s happened. And just a reminder—the whole fake engagement story was not part of my plan. That’s the opposite of stability, but I need to hold on to this job. I need to prove I can do that, even if only to myself.” He straightened and pushed back into the corner of the sofa to stare at her. She was gorgeous with her red hair mussed and wild from sex, falling around her ivory, freckled face and those wide, dark eyes. Being with her was the opposite of stability, too. But he needed her in ways he couldn’t begin to define.
“Bridg, I can’t predict the future any more than you can. All I can say is that right now, in this moment, Rendezvous Falls is where I need to be. It’s where I got a second chance to stay in the States.” He couldn’t resist reaching out to cup her cheek in his palm. “It’s where I ended up engaged to a feisty redhead who rocked my world tonight.” She smiled at that. “It’s where I want to make love to her again.” He kissed her. “And again.” Another kiss. She was practically lying on top of him now. “And again.”
Their bodies were like matches and gasoline. In no time at all, they were both naked and breathless on the sofa. He was rocking up against her, and she straddled him, ready to take him in, before she let out a frustrated groan.
“Condom...”
“Ah, shit...”
She made him so crazy he’d almost forgotten protection. It was stupid. Her touch made him stupid. He arched his back again, feeling the heat between her legs and wanting to be there. Right. Now. She raised up and settled over him, pausing until he looked at her face. He was literally twitching with need. Frantic. But her expression made him stop.
“What?”
Her smile was mischievous. “I’ve been on the pill for years, for...female stuff. I tested myself after that jerk in California, and...I mean...I’m good, you know? Health-wise.” Her cheeks went rosy. “If you want to...”
Oh, God, he really wanted to. But they were already playing with fire here.
“I’m good, too, love. But the condoms are in the next room, and there’s no need to risk a real baby in the middle of our fake engagement.”
Her lower lip jutted out in a pout before her eyes lit up. “This moment is too good to be ruined by moving. But there’s something we can do that won’t require condoms.” She slid back, settling herself between his legs and sliding to kneel on the floor. Oh, yeah. His head fell back and he let her take charge. He moaned her name, then called it out loudly. By the time he came he was practically speaking in tongues, yelling half words and cries of triumph and release. His body twitched and jerked for what seemed like ten minutes after she’d finished. As the bursting stars faded from behind his eyelids, he reached down and pulled her up to lie on his chest.
“Fu-u-u-c-k.” His breathing was so rapid he was having a hard time forming words. “What the ever-loving hell was that?” He gave her a squeeze. “Don’t answer. Don’t say anything. Just...wow. You took me to heaven and back, love.”
She burrowed into his arms. “Glad I was able to satisfy you.”
“Satisfy? You witch, you turned me inside out, then put me back together again. I have never...”
He’d never made love like that. Ever. But what did that mean? What did Bridget mean to him? To his life? He felt a rush of emotion, and realized it was panic. Was he on the rebound here? Was he falling for the first woman to rock his world since his divorce? Could he trust any of the feelings he thought he had for Bridget? Or was this all a lie like the first time?
“Hey, where’d you go?” Bridget’s voice was soft, but concerned, as it brushed past his ear. “I can feel you trying to overthink this. Relax. You were right. We can have some fun without getting too invested in this. We’re two grown-ups who make each other...” he let out a hiss as her hand slid down to grasp him againh “...who make each other feel really good. And that’s enough for now.”
She was right, of course. On both counts. She made him feel really good. And they were grown-ups who could handle a consensual sexual affair. Especially when the whole town assumed they were, anyway. How difficult could it be?
* * *
THE MOST CHALLENGING St. Patrick’s parties at the Purple Shamrock were the ones that happened on St. Patrick’s Day, like this year. The fact that Bridget was operating on just a few hours of sleep made it that much worse. She winced as a group of revelers let out a whoop from the far corner of the pub.
Kelly caught her, her brow arching. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were suffering from a hangover, cuz.�
�
She was. A sex hangover. Too much of a good thing was still too much. Her mouth twitched. It was also a really good thing. Last night had been full of really good things. Her eyes darted toward the back hallway, where Finn had...
“Are you okay?” Kelly tried to put her hand on Bridget’s forehead, laughing as she did it. “You are out of it tonight, girl.”
She pushed Kelly toward the bar. “I just didn’t get a lot of sleep, and now I’ve got twenty thousand things on my mind. Go take care of our customers while I broil more mini Reubens.”
They’d been serving corned beef and cabbage all afternoon, but the dinner hour was sliding by. Now it would just be drinks and lots of free appetizers—included in the cover charge—to help folks soak up the booze. She’d made a deal with local driving services to provide everyone a safe ride home. If a group had a designated driver, that person wore a bright green bracelet and was not served alcohol. Instead they had free soda and iced teas to choose from. Bridget shuddered at the memory of her dad slapping his pals on the back as they staggered out to their cars twenty years ago. How they’d never been sued for some tragedy was a miracle, and she’d always vowed she’d do things differently. No one left the Purple Shamrock these days with car keys if they were too drunk to drive.
The musicians from Buffalo had played one set during the dinner hour, and were setting up again to play throughout the evening. The upbeat tempo of the Irish and folk tunes had people tapping their toes and smiling. It was a grand party, and she was glad she’d given Nana what she wanted.
Mike and Kelly waited on tables. Timothy was bouncing between the kitchen and the dining room, wherever he was needed. And Luke was tending bar, with help from Finn. The day had been too busy for them to talk much, and they’d agreed over their second breakfast that they’d try to behave as they had been lately in public. No sense getting others invested in this if it wasn’t going any farther than a few nights together. But she already knew she wanted more than a few nights. He caught her looking, and gave her a playful wink before turning to a customer.
