9. Rushing #2
“No, it’s true. She seems like she’s been trying. She flew down to drive home with me from San Francisco. Don’t get me wrong, by day two, I was shoving cotton balls in my ears so I wouldn’t have to listen to anymore of her bullshit, but it was a sweet gesture.”
She leaned back in her chair, enjoying watching Finn relax as the sun set in the distance. His cowlick was officially wild now, his sleeves rolled up, his feet were crossed, and his ankles were leaned against hers under the table.
“Tell me about your family.” She didn’t want to push, remembering what Patricia had said about his mother, but she was hoping for a glimpse at what he had come home to.
Contemplating over a sip of his wine, Finn hesitated before speaking.
“I’ve got a great family. You met Zoe; she’s a middle child through and through, wedged between me and Evan, our little brother.
Not so little, he’s as tall as I am. Pops, Scott, is a great dad.
He and Mom were practically kids themselves when they had me, but they never hesitated in their relationship.
Pops says it was love at first sight through the last sight. ”
“I like that. Patricia said your mom passed away? I don’t want to pry, so you don’t have to talk about it.” She bit her tongue. Not exactly date conversation. So she didn’t want to talk about exes, but thought his deceased mother was fair game? She cringed, wishing she could take it back.
“No, it’s okay. She was everything a mom should be.
Kissed our booboos when we truly needed it, but when we didn’t, made us get right back up and face things head-on.
She got sick last fall, breast cancer. I tried to come home, take a break for the season to help out.
She was too weak to work, and Pops went with her to every treatment; not that they asked for help, but they would have given up everything for any one of us.
Evan got home first, dibs’d the apartment over the garage.
Zoe next. But Mom… Mom insisted I keep playing, otherwise what would she have to look forward to every Sunday? ”
Smiling sadly, Haley linked her feet with his.
His jaw was flexed tight, but he kept going without prompting.
“So, I kept playing. She and Pops flew down for my knee surgery. Mom looked like hell, skinny and pale and bald, but they wanted to be there when I woke up. A few days later, we flew back home together. That’s when she broke the news.
The chemo didn’t do shit. Sometimes… sometimes it’s not enough. She was gone a month later.”
“I’m so sorry. That’s why you and Zoe and Evan work at Halseth’s?”
“Yeah. It was their dream, the pub. When the building opened up in Foothills, ideal location, they hauled us all the way up here.”
“And now you’re all back.” She watched as he relived the memories, the emotion he tucked behind those melty brown eyes.
He sat up, taking another sip of wine. “That’s an understatement.
We’re starting to make Mom a memory rather than a living, breathing part of the house.
Not to mention, we’re getting to that point where it’s time to move out before we all kill each other.
Sharing a bathroom with Zoe again…” He trailed off, shaking his head in silent helplessness.
Their food was served moments later. They ate in silence for the first few bites, enjoying simply existing in the beautiful place with the elegant meal and pleasant company. No pressure, no expectations.
When it was time to go, the five-course meal well settled, the night sky shined down on them like a blanket. She slipped her hand into Finn’s as they walked to the car. The drive home was a charming end to a relaxing evening: clear skies, dry roads, and crisp summer air.
She enjoyed the view, watching as Finn’s powerful forearms took the curves with ease, his eyes scanning the path ahead as he kept them safe on the mountain backroads. When the road would straighten out, he’d glance her way now and again, his expression thick with something he didn’t say.
Pulling into her driveway, he had her door open, yet again, before she got to it. She stood and looped her jacket over her purse, toasty warm without needing the extra layer. He laced his fingers with hers to walk her in.
As she stepped to the front door, he pulled her back and had his hand buried in her hair, his mouth on hers before she could catch her breath. Up on her toes, she held on tight and kissed him back.
Plunging, the velvet of his tongue caressed hers, tasting, exploring, floating with her to the stars above. Shifting, she moved deeper, clinging tighter against him.
His hand splayed over her low back, pulling her against his groin. Breathless, she slipped her hands under his shirt, needing to feel his skin. Smooth and hard, feverish under her fingertips, his back was lean, his abdomen tight. Urgency building, she needed more.
Groaning, he slid his other hand up her thigh again, setting ablaze every nerve as he traced his fingers along the curve of her hip. Under her dress, his hand skimmed along her belly, his fingers teased along the rim of her panties.
Gasping against his mouth, she tugged his lower lip between her teeth and whispered his name.
Panting, as aroused as she was, he pulled away. “Wow, shit, sorry. I really, really hope no one drove by and saw… that.”
Nodding, she fixed her dress, the corner of her mouth turning up in satisfaction at the bulge in his slacks. “Yeah,” she said, unable to collect her thoughts. “I, uh, should, um, get inside before any of my neighbors…” She really needed to plant more trees to block her view of the road.
“Sure, yeah. I should get home. If you’re hungry tomorrow, you can, uh, swing by the pub if you want; I’ll be working.”
“Yeah. Great.”
He walked backwards, eyes hazy with lust like hers were. He watched as she unlocked the door and let herself inside.
Holy crap. If this was a rebound relationship, she really, really ought to have gotten a divorce years ago.