The Best Intentions (Welcome To Starlight Book 1)

by Michelle Major

  He shifted next to her on the bench, turning so he was facing her. Kaitlin kept her gaze straight ahead.

  “You rushed out of the bank just now. What’s wrong?”

  “I’m fine, Finn. Really.”

  “What’s wrong?” he asked again in the same tone, patient and slow as if he had all the time in the world to wait for an answer.

  It practically undid her.

  “I heard some of the longtime staff talking about me in the break room. It’s stupid and not at all your concern. I need a few minutes to myself. Nothing more.”

  “Tell me about this talking.”

  She shrugged. “Petty gossip about how I don’t deserve to be leading the charge on any of the new initiatives.” She flicked her gaze toward him. “About how I’m probably sleeping with you or your dad as job security.”

  He let out a breath that sounded more like a hiss. “I hope you marched in there and told them—”

  “I ran away. Out here.”

  “Kaitlin.”

  She hated the soft admonishment in his voice.

  “It makes sense that they’d believe the worst of me.”

  “Why?”

  “Why not?” Now she turned to fully face him. “You did.”

  His full lips thinned into a tight line. “I didn’t know you.”

  “You still don’t trust me.”

  “I do.”

  She let out a little snort of disbelief.

  He reached out and slowly traced the curve of her ear before his hand lowered to the back of her neck. She didn’t realize how much tension she held there until Finn’s warm fingers began to gently massage it away.

  “I want to trust you, and I appreciate everything you’ve done to help my dad and support me. Turning things around isn’t going to be easy, but you’ve made me believe it’s possible.”

  “It is,” she whispered, letting her eyes drift close and trying not to embarrass herself by moaning out loud.

  “How do you know?”

  “You may have gone off to do your own thing in the world, but you love your dad and this town. You’re going to make things right.”

  “You’ll be a big part of that. Don’t let what other people think define you.”

  She breathed out a small chuckle. “That line should be on a poster with some stylized photo of a rock climber gripping the side of a cliff.”

  “If I’m the guy in that poster, will you hang it above your desk?”

  Her smile widened and she opened her eyes. “Only if you’re shirtless.”

  His laughter rang out in the quiet, and a bird seemed to warble in response. “It’s a deal.”

  She shook her head. “That won’t make me any more popular with the ladies at the bank.”

  He inclined his head, his blue eyes dancing. “You could sell copies.”

  “Good to know you have a healthy sense of yourself.”

  “Would you like to confirm my ‘sense of self’?” he asked, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the top button of his tailored shirt. She couldn’t decide whether she liked him better in his business attire or more casual like he’d been on their afternoon in Seattle.

  The truth was, she liked him both ways and could imagine she’d appreciate him even more with no clothes.

  “I’ll take your word for it,” she said even as her body screamed a silent protest.

  “Come on,” he coaxed, his voice a sexy growl. “Seeing is believing.”

  “You’re trying to distract me from being upset.”

  “I’m trying to seduce you,” he countered and leaned in to kiss her.

  Chapter Nine

  He hadn’t planned on kissing her again. He wasn’t even sure why he’d followed her out of the bank. Finn didn’t consider himself either intuitive or a guy who was sensitive to other people’s moods.

  He was a dealmaker. He managed facts, figures and, most important, profit margins. Rarely did emotion play into his work, and he definitely hadn’t become the youngest person to be named a regional director by acting on his emotions. Starlight was messing with him, with who he was on a cellular level. As if the fresh air and slower pace of life had seeped into him, recalibrating everything he knew to be true about himself.

  Or maybe it was Kaitlin and the strange, visceral connection he felt with her.

  He shouldn’t have kissed her but could resist her about as much as he could stop himself from breathing.

  The urge was almost involuntary.

  Except he was choosing this. Choosing her.

  As he slanted his mouth over hers, he heard her sigh. Resignation or desire—he couldn’t tell which.

  Then she threaded her fingers through his hair, her nails gently grazing his scalp. Lightning sparks of desire skipped along his neck and shoulders. As he was coming to expect with Kaitlin, his tension eased.

  Another sort of agitation escalated through him as her tongue licked across the seam of his lips. He opened for her, beyond grateful that she deepened the kiss. There were no words for how much he wanted this.

  Luckily, he didn’t need words to tell her how he felt. He put all of his desire into kissing her, hoping she understood. Based on her reaction, she felt as much as he did.

  Until suddenly she pulled away and stood, straightening her pale pink sweater with a sharp tug.

  “I should get back.” Her voice was shaky, breathless. “No need to give Liz and Cassie another reason to talk about me.”

  “I didn’t mean for that to happen,” he felt compelled to tell her.

  “I know,” she whispered and then hurried away.

  What the hell was wrong with him? He rebuttoned his shirt and straightened his tie. Damn Daniel for dying and bringing him back here, he thought, then immediately regretted it. What kind of a selfish jerk had he turned into that he thought the changes in his life could hold a candle to what Brynn’s family must be dealing with now?

  In truth, Finn had been given a gift. He had a do-over with his father, a way to clean the slate so he could move forward in his own life without guilt.

  This morning had been more difficult than he’d imagined. He was used to managing money. His division employed plenty of people, but he felt so much more of a personal responsibility to the people at First Trust, even though they weren’t technically his employees. Chances were good that if his father was forced to sell the bank to a national institution, most employees would retain their positions. But there was no guarantee and, even so, it wouldn’t be the same.

  He retraced his steps down the path, pausing to watch the children playing on the park’s jungle gym. The equipment had been added since Finn left Starlight. He and his friends had largely roamed the town unsupervised from a young age, gangs of skinned-kneed kids riding bikes, climbing trees and building forts in the surrounding woods.

  A woman with thick, dark hair falling over her slender shoulders waved to him. Finn’s chest lurched. He hadn’t seen Brynn since the funeral, and at that time she’d been surrounded by so many friends and family members he hadn’t done much but give her a hug and whisper a few perfunctory words of comfort.

  He lifted a hand in greeting and walked toward her. They’d been friends in high school, although unlike Nick, Finn had hung out more with Daniel. They’d played football together all four years of high school, which was as much of a bond as any to teenage boys.

  “Hey, Brynn,” he said as she met him at the edge of the mulched border that surrounded the rubber base of the play area. “How are you?”

  She gave a small laugh. “I’ve had better months.”

  “Of course,” he answered quickly, embarrassed that he’d asked the question. “Sorry.” Shouldn’t he know she wasn’t doing well? She’d buried her husband a week earlier. How could she be? “I’m really sorry.”

  “Finn, it’s fine.” S
he placed a hand on his arm, her smile warm and comforting. It said a lot about Brynn Hale that her instinct was to make him feel better about shoving his foot in his mouth. “I was making a joke.” She frowned. “There seems to be some rule about newly widowed women not being allowed to smile or laugh. I haven’t gotten to that part in the instruction manual.”

  Finn felt his jaw go slack. “There’s an instruct—” He inclined his head, studying Brynn. “That was another joke.”

  “You’re catching on,” she told him with a quick grin.

  “I like that you’re smiling.”

  “I have a son to raise.” She turned to gaze toward ten-year-old Tyler, who was totally engrossed in shoveling sand in the oversize sandpit. “He has enough grief of his own without having to deal with mine, as well. I want him to know it’s okay to still feel happy, even if he misses his daddy.”

  “He’s a handsome kid,” Finn said, at a loss for how to bridge the gap of a decade and their different lives.

  “He looks like his father.” Brynn’s voice was soft, almost sad.

  “I see you in him. He has your features.”

  She smiled, and this time it reached her eyes. “Thank you for saying that.”

  “You’re one of the strongest people I know,” he said quietly. “For a lot of reasons.”

  Her smile faded slightly. “You don’t have to feel bad for me. Not for any of it. Tyler is my world, and everything that happened with Daniel pales in comparison to the joy my son gives me. I’d do it all again. Every last moment.”

  “Even the ones where you and Nick stopped being friends?” he couldn’t help but ask.

  He heard her audible breath and cursed himself once again. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”

  “Nick and I are still friends,” she answered after a moment. Tyler looked up then, glancing around until his gaze landed on her. Finn saw the boy’s small shoulders relax. Brynn waved and smiled, and the boy went back to digging. “We’re just the kind of friends who don’t talk much. But if he ever needed anything, I’d be there for him.”

  “He’d be there for you, too.” He bent his knees until he was at eye level with her. “If you need him, all you have to do is—”

  “I don’t,” she said quickly. “I’m fine.”

  “Brynn.”

  “Seriously, Finn.” She wrapped her arms around herself, knuckles going white as she grasped the opposite elbows. “I need to be fine. For Tyler. For myself. So that I don’t let anger and bitterness take over. I don’t need Nick or anyone. I’ve got Tyler, and we’re going to be fine.”

  “I know you will.” Finn covered one of her hands with his, letting the warmth from his fingers seep into hers, which were unnaturally cold. “There’s no doubt in my mind.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered, nodding. A few of the other mothers sent furtive glances their way, and he was impressed at Brynn’s ability to ignore the sidelong looks. “What are you still doing in town anyway?”

  “Haven’t you heard?” He gave her hand one final squeeze before dropping his. “I’m here to save the bank and become a local hero.”

  A laugh broke from her throat before she clasped a hand over her mouth. “That’s the first time I’ve laughed out loud since the night he died.”

  “Glad I can be useful in some way.”

  “You never struck me as the hero type,” she admitted sheepishly.

  “That makes two of us.”

  She studied him for a moment, and he resisted the urge to fidget like a recalcitrant schoolboy under her soft gaze. “It’s good you’ve come back,” she said finally. “Life is too short to let the past rule your future.”

  “My father would appreciate hearing that.”

  “Also...” She leaned in, as if sharing a secret. “Maybe you could encourage Nick to settle down.”

  It was Finn’s turn to stifle a laugh. “I’m not sure that’s in the cards for any of us... I mean...” He cleared his throat. “Nick, Parker or me. Plenty of guys we knew back in the day settled down. Your husband was a perfect example.”

  Brynn lifted a brow. “Daniel married me, but he never settled. I ignored it for far too long because being the good wife was what people expected.”

  “I’m sorry that he’s gone, but I’m also sorry he hurt you. You deserve better, Brynn.”

  “We deserve what we choose to accept in our lives,” she countered. “I’m going to make sure I start living like I believe I’m worth more.” She swiped a quick hand across her cheek. Finn hated the tears swimming in her eyes. “My son needs to see his mom that way.”

  “I agree,” Finn told her, again amazed by her quiet strength. What a fool Nick had been back in high school not to recognize what a prize this woman was in his life. They’d all been fools and probably still were.

  “Mommy,” Tyler called as he ran toward the climbing wall. “Watch me.”

  Brynn’s smile returned, brighter than ever. “I’m watching, sweetie.”

  “I should get back to the bank,” Finn told her when she returned her gaze to him.

  “You’re not still honoring that stupid pact the three of you made after high school?” Brynn demanded.

  “I...um... How do you know about the pact?”

  “Daniel told me years ago. I thought it was just drunken silliness, but the fact that none of you have married and you claim that you aren’t going to—”

  Finn held up a hand. “The pact had nothing to do with marriage. It was about falling in love.”

  “So you plan to get married without love?” She shook her head. “Not reassuring me, buddy.”

  “There are reasons to marry that have nothing to do with love.”

  “Yeah,” Brynn said in a quiet laugh. “I have one.”

  “I’m not talking about an unplanned pregnancy.” Finn felt heat rise up the back of his neck, and suddenly he wanted to loosen his tie again. “Sometimes marriage is more of a partnership than a love match.”

  “Like a business arrangement?” Brynn asked, a delicate brow rising.

  “In a manner of speaking.”

  She cuffed him on the ear so fast he didn’t even see her reaching for him.

  “Ouch. Jeez, Brynn, what was that about?”

  “Maybe I was trying to knock some sense into you. You’re a smart guy, or at least that’s the rumor. I don’t know what prompted the three of you to commit to not falling in love, but you can’t still think it’s a smart idea.”

  “It’s worked so far.”

  “I don’t believe that, for any of you. Daniel and I got married because I was pregnant, and things were never perfect. But I loved him as best as I could. It’s the only way.”

  “I hope you find happiness on the other side of this loss,” Finn told her. “I’m not built for the kind of love you seem to think is so important.”

  “You’re selling yourself short. Nick and Parker, too, if they think the same way.”

  He shrugged.

  “Go back to the bank,” she told him, lifting a hand to gently rub the edge of his ear. “But keep your options and your heart open.”

  He opened his mouth to argue, but she held up a hand.

  “You can’t say no to a grieving widow.”

  “Wow. That’s intense. Were you like this in high school?”

  One side of her mouth curved. “No, but I like me better now.”

  Finn chuckled. “I do, too.”

  He walked back to the bank, trying not to think too much about love or expectations or whether or not his life as he’d created it really was working. These weeks in Starlight were a blip on the radar, and when he had things settled at the bank he’d return to his regular life.

  Wouldn’t he?

  * * *

  “You’re the last one here.”

  Kaitlin glanced at the c
lock display in the corner of the computer screen, then quickly clicked the mouse to minimize the screen. She’d managed to avoid Finn since that kiss in the park a few days ago. Heat crept up her cheeks at the memory of his mouth on hers.

  “Just finishing up some stuff,” she said as she stood, placing a hand on the top of the monitor like she needed to guard it from Finn. “It’s only seven.”

  “Haven’t you heard about banker’s hours?”

  “You’re still here, too,” she pointed out, trying not to fidget as he looked from her to the computer. She didn’t want to lie, but heat crept up her cheeks as she thought about explaining why she was working late tonight.

  Of course Finn moved closer, curiosity clear in his eyes. “What are you working on?” he asked.

  “Stuff,” she muttered.

  “Is that an official financial term?”

  “I’m finished for tonight,” she told him, hitting a few buttons to power off the monitor.

  “That doesn’t answer my question.”

  “Your dad is out on a date,” she said, hoping to distract him from his irritating interest in what she was doing. “With Nanci, who owns the coffee shop.”

  Finn nodded. “He told me.”

  When she came around the side of the desk, he edged closer. “It’s nothing,” she said immediately.

  “You’re a terrible liar,” he countered.

  “I thought you were going to trust me.”

  “I’m curious as to what has you so ruffled. Tell me you’re not trolling some online dating site.”

  “It’s a class,” she blurted. “For college.”

  He opened his mouth, shut it again. “College?”

  “Community college,” she clarified. “I’m working on my associate’s degree in business. It’s an online program for working adults.”

  She shrugged and grabbed her purse from the desk, embarrassed at sharing this bit of herself and irritated at her humiliation over trying to better herself. “I have bigger plans. But my grades in high school were pretty dismal, so I’m going this route and then I’ll work on my bachelor’s. It probably seems stupid to you.” Her voice broke because what she meant was “I probably seem stupid” and she was pretty sure he knew it.