11. Pass Interference
Pass Interference
T hey’d made a pretty decent dent in the box. Haley stood in the massaging spray of the shower, her body warm and pliant from a lively night. Living on bartender time, Finn was still tangled in the sheets on her bed, or so she thought.
As she rinsed out her conditioner, the shower door opened behind her. Hard body pressed against her back, Finn wrapped his arms around her waist. Without releasing her, he grabbed the soap from the shelf and started to glide the slippery bar over her skin.
“I already did that part,” she murmured.
His cheek against her, lips at her ear, he smiled. “You never can be too sure. Some areas may need multiple washings to get it exactly right.” Driving his point home, he returned the soap and grazed his hands over her, scrubbing further down.
Scorching already at the electric, intimate caress, she gasped.
He let go long enough to turn her toward him, prop her leg up on the step, and drove his fingers into her slick folds in a fluid plunge, massaging her inside and out.
Holy shit, he was unpredictable; in such a good way. Like he was always thinking of ways to surprise her, to find what new ways to make her soar. Wow, had she ever even realized a man would do that? Would be so… selfless? Attentive? Sexy?
Finn seemed to do it whether it brought him anything or not. Although he seemed to enjoy her reaction. Thoroughly.
His fingers moved inside her, stroking rhythmically, following her cues until a rip-roaring orgasm shattered through her and she melted into his arms, panting as if she’d run a hundred-yard sprint.
Picking the soap back up, he worked up a lather on his own skin. “That’s why my showers take so long.”
She looked up at him like he was nuts. “Because you’re sneaking up on sex-coma’d women and transforming them to a state of permanent orgasm?”
He grinned, running the soap down his long limbs. “Because I’m brainstorming the many ways I want to elicit that steamy look in your eyes.”
Rinsing out the last of the conditioner, she rolled her eyes and lived the perma-smile to go with the perma-orgasm that was going to follow her around all day.
Grabbing her towel from the ledge, as she had yet to invest in a towel rack, she wrapped it around her. She pulled another from the cupboard and set it out for Finn.
Heading out, she grabbed a favorite pair of jeans and an airy tank from her piles against the wall. She considered making the bed, but accepted it was going to get messed up again before he left. Instead, she headed for the kitchen and set the coffee pot to brew.
She pulled out two stoneware mugs that she’d picked up from one of the local shops; the beginnings of her eclectic dishware design.
Opening the fridge, she pulled out a package of eggs, tomatoes, diced green chiles, and…
Oo, she’d almost forgotten about the read-to-eat chorizo she’d bought at Halseth’s.
As she set the pan on the stove, she heard a vigorous knock at the door. Freezing, she held her breath, hoping they would give up and go away. Then a key in the front door. Crap. She knew she should have changed the locks when she moved in.
Breezing in like she still owned the place, Patricia hummed as she carted in a paper bag that smelled of Hattie’s breakfast sandwiches. Sharp Tillamook cheddar, sausage patties, fried egg, and sourdough bread. The scent almost made Haley happy to see her mother. Almost, but not quite.
“Oh, I’m so glad you’re up. I thought we’d have breakfast together.”
“Mother. Hi. I, uh, now’s really not a good time. Maybe tomorrow?” She forced her eyes not to wander toward the main bedroom, willing Finn to stay away.
“Nonsense. You haven’t even started to make your… concoction yet. You can put that all back in the refrigerator and make it tomorrow instead.”
The coffee pot chimed its success. Patricia’s eyes went to the pot and saw two mugs waiting. “Hattie must have let you know I was coming and had forgotten coffee. What would I do without that woman?” Haley bit her tongue before uttering, starve to death?
“Really. Mother. Patricia. Not a good time. I will call you later.”
“I was hoping you could show me how your vlog is coming along. I haven’t seen any videos posted yet, so I wasn’t sure if you were still serious about that.”
“That’s because I’m making a series before I post them, so I know I have something worth watching.” Please don’t come out here. Please at least have clothes on if you do , she silently willed Finn.
Her phone was on the counter. She snatched it and went to send him a text. Ha. Telepathy had nothing on the modern era of technology.
Shit, too late. Finn limped down the hall, his knee still sore from last night’s activities. At least he was wearing pants, if not a shirt or shoes…
He froze when he saw Patricia, then pasted on a smile and kept walking, playing down the limp as he came closer. “Dr. Mallory. Hi. It’s nice to see you.”
Her spine shot ramrod straight. “Mr. Halseth. Well. I was not expecting you to be here. With my daughter… in such a state.”
“Mother,” Haley chided. The woman didn’t possess a tactful bone in her body.
Patricia powered on, “I guess I didn’t realize that Haley and you were in a relationship.”
No stranger to Patricia’s rudeness, as he’d mentioned before from growing up as a good friend of Grady’s, he powered on, equally unaffected. “Wow, Dr. Mallory, that smells great. How is Hattie?”
“She is doing very well, thank you. Now—”
He peeked in the bag, then moved to the coffee pot and filled the mugs Haley had set out. “Dr. Mallory? Care for a cup?”
Did he just invite her mother for coffee?
Haley shook her head, tempted to stomp her feet and plug her ears at the crazy surrounding her.
“Mother. As I said, now is not a good time. I have company. If you’d like to come for breakfast another time, that’s wonderful.
I’ll call you later and arrange something.
For now, please. You absolutely cannot stay, especially if you’re going to be rude to my guest.”
Huffing, Patricia adjusted her silk scarf and let Haley walk her to the door.
She stopped with her hand on the knob, then rested a fist at her side again.
Whispering in an I-know-he-can-hear-me voice, Patricia started on the real lecture.
“Haley. This isn’t like you, hooking up with some playboy .
You don’t know how many women he must have slept with, a hedonist showboat gallivanting across the country.
He’s no more trustworthy than Nate, maybe worse.
If you’re looking to date again, I know some wonderful men your age. ”
Haley reached around and opened the door for her mother. So humiliating. “Later.”
Turning, she found Finn munching one of the breakfast sandwiches, coffee at his side, sitting on the fireplace hearth, as there was no place else to sit.
She slumped down next to him. “Some people swear their parents are from another planet. Mine really is. I don’t know where that woman is from, but it’s certainly not Earth. I’m sorry she was so rude to you.”
“Haley? I’ve met enough people like Patricia over the years.
Including Patricia. Trust me, I’ve heard a lot worse criticism.
On national television and right in my face.
” He nudged her with his shoulder, setting down his breakfast and rising to his feet.
He returned with the paper bag and the coffee he’d poured for her.
“Thanks.” She snorted, “At least I know she won’t tell anyone.”
“If it helps, she’s never liked me. I’m sure she’d reconsider if she saw my bank account.
Although I’m no longer the middle-class kid that distracted her son from whatever shit she’d enrolled him in, but instead as a hedonist athlete, I’d rather not win her over with practical financial investments and a pristine background check, maybe a few personal references from old girlfriends. ”
“Oh god no, that would make it so much worse. She’d drive right over and demand you propose on the spot.
After she convinced you to take some job on SportsCenter or something glamorous.
” She took a testing sip of coffee, realizing it was already cold, she converted that to a huge gulp.
“I don’t think she realizes her stiff expectations and snobbery are part of what drove me right to the repressed adulthood I’d let myself settle for.
What would your mother say, finding you half naked in some married woman’s desolately unfurnished house? ”
“First, it’s not desolate at all; it’s got promise. Second, it’s not your fault you’re still married. Third, she’d undoubtedly meddle a bit. Must be a mom thing. Not that Pops isn’t known to meddle now and again.”
M eddle. Sure. Pops was probably watching the driveway already, waiting for the report. He’d try really, really hard to not turn on his GPS locator Finn had actually appreciated, spending so many years on the road. It was nice to have someone know where he was.
Nah, he probably turned it on halfway through his coffee. Nosy man.
Finn probably should head home. He had to work tonight. Instead, he indulged.
Pushing to his feet, he crumpled up their breakfast wrappers and did a quick tidy of the kitchen.
Last night, after they’d finally gotten around to dinner—actually, a pretty great meal of roasted veggies and walnuts with chicken—they’d cleaned up their mess and left the kitchen spotless.
The countertop was still a hideous pink tile, and the cabinets were sturdy but outdated.
She’d already done all the floors in the house, painted the main rooms.
“What’s your plan next? Furniture soon or the kitchen?”
Haley joined him, topping off her coffee and scanning the great room. “I would love to do the kitchen, but I need a place to sit. I had no idea it was possible to live with so little. But, the limited distractions have helped with my productivity. I’m officially months ahead on my posts.”
“Need help with anything?”
“Most of the living room furniture should arrive Monday, and I’ll piece it together in a few arrangements for the blog.”
“Don’t forget the vlog.”
She blushed, biting her cheek. “I don’t know. I’ve been working on it, but I feel silly. The blog is so anonymous, but a vlog… that’s all me.”
“I’m sure it’s great. It’s damn hard to decorate a place. People will appreciate some sound advice and classy ideas.”
“Maybe. I’m going to do some creative edits before I upload anything. For now, I’m keeping the bulk of my focus on the blog.”
“Can I see what you’re working on?”
“Now?”
“Yeah. The blog. You ended your last post with a cliffhanger. Will the bathroom paint stay dark or dry to a spa-like finish?” He grinned, loving watching her reaction. She’d doubted he’d actually follow, but it was actually entertaining, full of humor and creativity.
“Who’s stalking who?” She grabbed her laptop from her purse and set it on the countertop. At his side, she pulled up her unfinished post and stepped back, holding the coffee cup in front of her mouth. Watching his reaction.
So put-together, positive… he was beginning to suspect she worked damn hard to either hide or overcome her insecurities.
Maybe she got it from Patricia, that need to make things look composed on the outside, or maybe it was from being the perfect housewife for years…
or maybe she was just plain tough and didn’t let things get to her.
At the top of the page, she had a high-definition wooden banner with pink flowers scattered across, her blog name at the top.
Scrolling down, he found links by category and a crisp, colorful lead-in to the latest post. He scrolled down and was brought to a fucking fantastic pic, a side view of her standing in front of ripped up flooring and a half-painted blue wall with a huge blue smudge on her cheek, her adorable lopsided that was laced with ornery.
He knew she loved her work, and it showed.
Part of him wanted to rage and fly down to San Francisco and kick Nate’s ass through the uprights.
Haley was smart and bright and creative…
yet she’d dropped out of college because it hadn’t worked with Nate’s schedule.
Fucking asshole. It’s not that she needed college to prove anything, but the fact that the asshole hadn’t considered her future as important as his…
Jaw clenched tight, he heard that familiar squeak that told him to calm the fuck down before he cracked a damn molar. Air heavy in his chest, he stepped back. Haley watched his expression, his fury, holding the coffee mug to shield her expression.
Shit. Stepping closer, he hooked his hands into the waistband of her jeans and looked her in the brilliantly blue eyes. “I like your blog. I think your vlog will be fantastic.”
Nodding, she bit her cheek and stiffened.
“Haley?”
“Yeah?”
“I looked pissed off, didn’t I?”
“Yes.”
“I was just…” Wow, he wasn’t good at this stuff.
Wasn’t that what Trace had been telling him? He didn’t know how to be there for her?
Haley’s uncertainty ate away at him; didn’t matter how crappy he was at this.
She needed it. “I am fucking pissed off.” He didn’t lighten the strain in his voice.
“You’re brilliant. Clever. Creative. Seeing how amazing you are at design, at writing, well, it got me thinking.
Mostly about how Nate’s a fucking asshole. For so many reasons.”
Setting the coffee down on the counter, she leaned into him. “I think that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
Laughing, he wrapped his hands around her waist and brushed his lips over hers. “We’ve got, like, thirty-six condoms left. I’ve got a whole repertoire of moves and positions I’ve been wanting to try…”
“I’ve got a few I’ve been considering doing myself. We may have to take turns.”
Groaning, he tipped his head back. “Oh please god say you just implied you’ve been considering doing yourself.”
“Not what I meant. I can do that anytime… without a rebound and a big box of condoms.” Her head tilted as she challenged him with that lopsided grin.
“But I don’t get to watch you do that anytime. Please?”
“We’ll see. Right now, I was more thinking about right here.” Her hands braced against the kitchen countertop, biting her lip in pure flirty taunt.
“How about this? Right here, right now. Then I snag your extra garage door opener and head to work. Then I’ll sneak into your bed tonight.
Tomorrow, you can make me breakfast, maybe I can help around here, clearing the patio, whatever.
But as soon as that furniture arrives, you treat me to a show on your new couch. ”
Tipping her head back in laughter, she shook him to his core with her delight.