Charmer (Havenbrook #1)

Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

WILLOW

First my office, then Ropers, then right across the street from town hall. And not just across the street, but across the street while half naked, ripped chest and corrugated abs glistening from him working so hard…

Whew, was it hot in here?

Finn was unavoidable, that much was clear. No matter what I did, he kept popping up again, leaving me on edge every minute of the day because I just couldn’t escape. And now I had those images from earlier burned into my brain, the sight of him on that ladder, his back muscles flexing, ass looking delectable in a pair of worn jeans, haunting my every waking moment.

After my workday was done, I stormed into Mac’s and my place, slamming the door behind me. The walls of the guesthouse on our parents’ property rattled, but I couldn’t muster up an ounce of care. I tossed my purse behind me without concern for where it landed before chucking my heels to either side, grumbling under my breath the entire time.

“Will?” Mac called from upstairs. “Is Ella with you?”

“No,” I snapped.

“No? What’s all that bangin’, then?”

Yeah, okay, so I was acting like our seven-year-old niece. Point taken. Still, I couldn’t get my feet to let up as I stomped upstairs and into Mac’s room.

“All that bangin’ is me losing my ever-lovin’ mind .” I threw myself facedown on her bed.

“Umm…”

“Umm?” I turned to glare at my sister where she sat with her back against the headboard, book forgotten against her chest. “My world is ending, and all you have to say is, ‘umm…’?”

She rolled her eyes, then poked me in the side with her toe. “I hardly think your world is ending, Will. Dramatic much?”

“Sure as hell feels like it. Especially when Finn won’t stay out of my life!”

“Uh oh…you had another run-in?”

Saturday night at the bar, Mac and Avery hadn’t questioned my urgent plea to bail immediately. They had, however, cornered me the following day and asked what the hell had happened. I’d spilled all the details, cringing as I’d relived every minute of having Finn’s body pressed against my own. Avery’s and Mac’s faces had been sympathetic, and they’d agreed they’d do what they could to minimize the time I’d need to see Finn while he was in town. So freaking much for that plan.

“Yep. Bastard made me go over to his building so he could sign some papers. He’s just tryin’ to mess with my head.”

“Oh, honey, c’mon now. I love you, but you’ve gotta get a grip. I highly doubt that’s what’s goin’ on. We didn’t tell anyone where we were goin’ on Saturday, so him bein’ there was just a coincidence. And today…well, I’m sure it was innocent enough.”

More snippets of a bare-chested Finn flashed in my mind, and no. There was definitely nothing innocent about that man. He’d been downright indecent . He’d managed to render me speechless, my jaw nearly unhinging as I’d stared at him dragging that old cotton shirt across his muscle-packed chest, down the washboard ridges of his abs…

“Um, Will? I know we’re close and all, but I don’t wanna know what your sex face looks like, so I’m gonna have to ask you to stop thinkin’ ’bout whatever you are.” Only a second passed before she gasped, her eyes going wide as she flew up from her reclining position. “Did you sleep with him?” She hissed the question, like we were seventeen and eighteen again, back in our parents’ house while divulging all the sordid details of my whirlwind romance with the bad boy of Havenbrook.

“Lord, no.” I squeezed my eyes shut against the remembered flush of awareness that’d flooded my body in Finn’s presence.

Mac didn’t need to know the thought had crossed my mind too many times to count since he’d made his appearance back in town. Honestly, I didn’t even want to admit it to myself, let alone say it aloud to someone else.

“Okay, then everything’s fine.” She waved a hand in the air. “There’s no need to panic. I know Havenbrook’s small, but that doesn’t mean you’re gonna be running into him every day or anything.”

Except, if the past week was anything to go by, I would be.

I took a deep breath and sat up, tucking my ankle under my leg as I faced my sister. “He seems hell-bent on making that happen. And since Gloria’s on maternity leave until August, I’m the one and only person he’ll be in contact with as they renovate. I don’t know how long they’re plannin’ on staying, but according to Rory’s latest voice mail, the Thomas boys have taken up residence in the apartment above the storefront.”

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah, oh shit.” I pushed up from the bed and walked across the hall to my own room as my sister continued with platitudes that were doing exactly nothing to reassure me. I whipped off my sleeveless blouse, then unzipped and tugged off my skirt.

As I went to my dresser to grab a pair of yoga pants and a tank top—screw doing anything tonight but bingeing on Ben & Jerry’s—I caught a glimpse of myself in the floor-length mirror that stood in the corner of my room. A tiny fleck of black peeked out of the waistband of my low-cut bikini panties, and I tugged them up my hip—a force of habit as I hid the last bit of Finn Thomas I still had in my life.

The tiny bit of Finn Thomas I’d carried on my skin every day for the past decade.

And maybe that was the problem. Maybe that was why he still affected me so much. Because no matter what I told myself, no matter how many different men I’d tried to have a relationship with, I’d always had this what-if in the back of my mind, courtesy of the brand I wore of his.

You still have my bird on you, Willowtree?

I closed my eyes against the whispered words he’d said to me in Ropers, wanting desperately to blink and have this thing off my body. I walked over to stand in front of the mirror, then tugged down the front of my panties until the entire tattoo was visible.

It might’ve happened ten years ago, but I remembered it as clear as if it’d been last week. The weeks leading up to it, all the planning that’d gone into them—both mine and his. Sketch after sketch after sketch until I’d gotten them just right. This act—getting tattoos together—was symbolic of so much more than the actual symbols on our bodies. It was the physical representation of us starting our life together, taking the leap with nothing but our love and a few prayers setting the foundation.

What a fool I’d been.

I’d willingly marked my body forever for a boy it turned out I’d never really known at all. Because when he’d walked away, he’d negated every word he’d ever said to me, every whispered confession of love, every promise of a future.

So now, when I looked at my tattoo—a bird in flight on my hip—instead of reminding me of everything I should soar for as intended, it only served to remind me of all the flying Finn had done to get away from me.

Well, no more of that. I’d lived with this for far too long, and it was time to do something about it.

I snatched my phone from the pocket of my discarded skirt, then queued up Ty’s name—Finn’s friend who’d done the tattoo in the first place—and shot him a quick text. I hadn’t talked to him other than a hello around town for so long, I hoped it was still his correct number. But I hadn’t needed to worry. His reply came almost instantly, letting me know I could swing by his place tonight and we’d talk about my options.

Whether I covered it up with something else or removed it completely, I didn’t care. As long as it got the image of Finn’s bird off my body once and for all.