Stir (The Sizzle TV Series Book 5)

Chapter 15 – Nic

If I hadn’t already reviewed evidence proving Reggie is eighteen, I’d never have given him the time of day. The kid looks so young, I bet he got carded buying chewing gum.

“This should take care of the last of it,” I tell him, handing him the last sheet of paper we’d already talked through. “You and Jenny and Jason are staying with your grandfather, right?”

I know the answer to this one, but I want to know what he’ll say.

Reggie nods glumly, his eyes darting repeatedly toward Finn, hulking in the corner, far enough away that Reggie’s privacy is intact but close enough to act in the unlikely event something bad happens. Finn insisted on coming with me today for whatever reason. We argued, but after checking with the supervisor on duty, I gave in to avoid being late.

Probably had something to do with the building being nearly deserted today. Reggie is the only one of my clients signed up tonight, and we’ll be done inside of thirty minutes.

Not bad for a Friday night, though I always hate leaving early. I don’t tally my volunteering hours the way some of my colleagues do, but leaving early on a slow night still feels like cheating.

“House in the suburbs, right?” I ask. Reggie nods again.

“Yeah. Jenny and Jason like the school, so I guess it’ll work for now.” Reggie will graduate next spring. His younger brother and sister still have a few years to go. They’re all playing catch-up for the time they lost after their parents’ accident last year. “Boring, though.”

I want to tell him he could probably do with a little boredom in his life after the last eighteen months. Knowing he wouldn’t take it well, I keep that little parcel of elder wisdom to myself.

“Could be worse,” I say instead.

“Truth.”

Finn’s barely taken his eyes off me since Reggie walked in. I don’t know what the hell that’s about, but if he doesn’t knock it off, we’re going to have words.

That’s been happening a lot the last couple of weeks—both the staring and the arguing. And despite his repeated asking, it has nothing to do with him dating Natalie. Nothing.

It may have something to do with the way he’s staring. Or maybe the knowledge that I’m the only one in the office not getting laid.

At least, that’s my take on it. Not sure what the fuck his problem is. You’d think he’d have chilled out some the last couple of weeks, blackmail notwithstanding.

It’s been weeks since the break-in and the note. Obviously, my judgment is clouded by… certain thoughts and feelings. I’m not sorry I hired Finn, especially not if it put Natalie’s mind at ease, but maybe it’s time to put an end to this. Rand hasn’t found anything much to go on, and there hasn’t been a single other cause for concern.

I overreacted, plain and simple. Hell, maybe it was a janitor who came into the office a couple of weeks ago and accidentally knocked things around. That wouldn’t explain the blackmail, but maybe it was truly just a coincidence.

I’ve made enough of a fool of myself. Tonight, after we get back to our building, I’ll tell Finn we won’t need him in the office next week. He and Natalie can carry on without having me as a chaperone all the time, and I’ll finally be able to walk into my office without picturing him bent over my desk. Or him bending Natalie over her desk.

“What’s wrong?” asks Finn suddenly.

I blink. “What do you mean?”

“You had a look on your face.”

Unbelievable. “Nothing. You’re all set, Reggie.” I stand up, handing the kid his stack of copies. “You still got my card?”

Reggie rolls his eyes. “Nobody keeps cards anymore, Nic. I snapped a pic on my phone. I know how to find you.”

“You have any questions, you call me. Anytime.” I stop him with a hand on his arm. “I mean that, Reggie. Anytime. Anything I can do to help, you just let me know.”

He drops the teenage tough-guy mask just enough that I can see the vulnerability, the overwhelming responsibility, and the determination on his face. He nods, even gives me something like a smile, and leaves.

Finn exhales audibly.

“Are all your cases like that?”

“Like what?” For all the good computers have done, there’s still a ridiculous amount of physical paper I have to sort and pack away. I start piling files into my bag.

“That kid,” says Finn. “He’s so young.”

“Not at all,” I say, still stacking and sorting. “Most of the people who come in here are adults. Lots of seniors. It’s a bit random. You never know who’s going to need some help.”

Finn is quiet as I tidy up the desk. He checks the hallway before we leave the office, shutting off the light before closing the door behind us. The rest of the building is more or less deserted, with only a few offices still showing light beneath the doors.

We’re in my car before Finn speaks again.

“My parents died when I was about his age.”

My hands freeze on the steering wheel.

“It was just me and my sister. My cousin is a few years older. His home life was shit, so he moved in with us after they died. I still don’t know how he managed, but he kept us together and helped keep the roof over our heads so we didn’t get split up. We didn’t even have to leave our house.”

Nothing I can say can express my shock or my sympathy. I don’t think Finn wants to hear it anyway. I simply lay a hand over his, where it rests on his thigh. Finn looks at it, then looks up at me.

“If I had somebody like you to talk to, maybe I could have handled things on my own. Maybe it wouldn’t have messed with Callie’s head so bad. Or maybe it would have kept me out of trouble. Or made things so Sully could have gone to school like he wanted.”

Oh, Finn. “What kind of trouble?”

“I met a girl. She found out my parents left us some money. Didn’t take her long to talk me into sharing it her way.”

The anger is immediate. “How old was she? Couple of years older than you, right?” His eyes flick to mine in surprise.

“How could you possibly know that?” he asks.

I shake my head, my hand tightening on his. “I see it all the time here.” I gesture at the Legal Aid offices. “It’s the first thing I tell a client like Reggie: never mention the word ‘inheritance’ to anybody. There’s a whole class of bottom-feeders who scavenge off the grief of the newly bereaved.”

Finn looks down at our hands.

“It’s good,” he says slowly, meeting my eyes again. “What you’re doing here is good work.”

He turns his palm up underneath mine and laces our fingers together. My heart threatens to pound out of my chest.

“What—” My voice actually cracks, and I want to die, but I don’t pull my hand away. “What are you doing?”

Finn swallows hard. He leans in, closer and closer, until I can’t see anything but those deep blue eyes, the start of a beard coming in on his cheeks, his mouth. Until we’re close enough to share the air. He’s giving me time to stop him, I realize.

Surging forward, I take his mouth.

The kiss is vicious, intense, and so satisfying I can feel a humiliating heat behind my eyes. Lips and teeth and tongue, and my hands are in his hair, and I’m cursing this ridiculous vehicle for being too small because I can’t climb over the shifter into his lap.

Finn groans, his broad chest rumbling with it, and it brings me back to earth enough to break the kiss and open my eyes.

“Finn.”

His eyes struggle to open, his tongue darting out to trace his own mouth. My cock throbs uncomfortably against my zipper. His eyes are still hooded when he finally speaks.

“I’ve never…”

“I figured.” This earns me a glare, though don’t ask me why.

I settle back in my seat, pretending for all I’m worth that I hadn’t been about to suggest screwing in the back seat like teenagers. Putting the car in gear, I navigate back to the office.

“You’re not seriously going back to work,” Finn says.

“I just need to take these files up to the office. I’ll drop you at home first.” Something sours in my stomach. “I won’t keep you from your plans.”

I can’t say her name. I can’t.

“I don’t have any plans,” says Finn, his tone dark. “You work too fucking much.”

I guess we’re not talking about it then, not talking about her.

“I spend exactly an average amount of time in the office,” I say, parking inelegantly. Finn slams his door, following me into the building. I nod to Carl, the weekend security guy, and head straight for the elevator, Finn right on my heels.

“You forget, I know exactly how much time you spend at your office,” he says. The tension in the elevator is unbearable. No small part of it has to do with the erection I can see straining at the front of his pants. “I also know you’re prone to taking your work home with you. Even when you’re giving back to the community, you’re working.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. I didn’t realize you had something against productivity. Or is it the steady employment that bothers you so much?”

The snotty tone was a mistake. Finn moves fast, pinning me up against the wall of the elevator before I can even consider taking it back.

His mouth is right there. Right. There.

The elevator door slides open.

“Um. Guys?”

Natalie stands there, both hands clutching her purse, wide-eyed and slack-jawed.