Chapter 26
twenty-six
. . .
REAGAN
I was speechless, and tears welled in my eyes.
This man…there weren’t words for what sharing this meant to me, or what he was coming to mean to me.
Lainey was always on my mind, sitting right at the forefront, commingling with any other thought I happened to have at the time.
But for a little while today, for the first time since I’d gotten the call about the body, it felt like I could breathe and simply exist without the grief crushing me.
Finn didn’t press me to fill the silence as he spread out the blanket and our picnic, and I appreciated him even more for it. He was content to leave me to my thoughts, to let me enjoy this peace. To simply bask in this moment where the weight of the world lifted from my shoulders.
Too soon, we had to head back to the ranch.
We arrived back at the barn with only about ten minutes to spare until family dinner started.
I wished I had time to go home and rinse the dust off, or at least change, but there was no time.
When we walked the horses into the barn, Finn set to untacking Raider, and I did the same with Scamp, hanging up her saddle, blanket, bridle, and bit, then brushing her down quickly before leading her to her stall.
A ranch hand appeared to feed her and get her bedded down, and after a final pat to her side, I left them to it.
Suddenly, I was dreading dinner.
Had I been grateful he’d taken me out today? That he’d spent time he could’ve been working by showing me around the ranch and treating me to a romantic as fuck picnic lunch? Of course. I’d made sure to thank him, and I had enjoyed myself more than I expected.
But my sister was still missing, and here I was, fucking around and playing house with him.
My head was a jumbled fucking mess. Living under the same roof as him was driving me insane. Going to bed knowing he was right down the hall, that all I had to do was walk the twenty or so feet and I’d be right there with him.
I was genuinely shocked, and possibly a little (a lot) dejected he hadn’t sought me out. He’d agreed to give me space, but I was starting to think there was such a thing as too much, and Finn was too far on the other side of the line.
Maybe, I didn’t want any space anymore.
Or maybe, this whole thing—coming here, thinking I could help find Lainey—had been a mistake.
Finn and I met in the middle of the alley between stalls, staring at each other for so long we were sure to be late for dinner.
I didn’t know what he wanted from me, and I was starting to think I had no idea what I wanted for myself. Now was neither the time nor the place to answer those questions.
With a disgusted sigh—mostly at myself—I moved past him, ready to head up the hill for dinner. The last thing I wanted to do was keep Birdie waiting, and I’d never hear the end of it from the boys if I delayed their mealtime.
I only made it two steps before Finn’s hand caught my wrist.
“What’re you doing?” I asked when I angled toward him, my voice low. They were the first words I’d spoken to him since we left his special place more than an hour ago.
His mouth opened and closed once, twice, as though searching for the right words. Ultimately, he snapped it shut and, with a slight shake of his head, let me go.
Okay then.
I got another step in before he muttered, “Fuck it,” from behind me, grabbed my arm again, and spun me so my back was to the wall of the barn.
There was no warning before his mouth descended on mine.
That first brush of his lips, a gentle, teasing glance, had me whimpering, wordlessly begging for more.
And he gave it to me, coming back to me with more pressure, angling his body closer so there wasn’t a millimeter’s worth of space to be found between us.
His thigh came between mine, the hard muscle connecting perfectly with my core which, after only a few moments, already pulsed in time with my heartbeat. Aching for him.
Grinding down against him, I gasped at the pressure, and Finn took that as an invitation to sweep his tongue in my mouth. Caressing, exploring, twisting with mine. Refamiliarizing ourselves with each other, with this heady physical connection we’d gone too damn long without.
I’d forgotten how much I loved the way this man kissed, with his whole entire body, like he couldn’t get close enough, like his hands couldn’t find every inch of my body fast enough, like he’d never get enough of the way our tongues danced and lips glided and sighs of pleasure mixed together.
Kissing him again was like coming home, like some piece of me I hadn’t known was missing—or maybe had and chose to ignore—finally locked into place, completing me.
That wild thought had me pushing him away, tipping my head down and brushing a hand over my mouth, gasping for air.
“What?” he asked, and I risked peeking up at him to see if he was as affected as I was.
Honestly, I thought he was worse. A thick bulge pressed against the front of his jeans, and his hat had gone missing—I hadn’t even noticed I’d knocked it off—his hair a rumpled mess from my fingers.
He brought a hand to his kiss-swollen lips. “Did I do something wrong?”
“You didn’t do anything wrong, but we’re going to be late for dinner,” I finished lamely.
“I don’t give a fuck about dinner, Reagan.”
“I can’t do this with you right now!”
Gripping my hair by the roots at my temples, I yanked, as if that would knock some sense into me.
“Can’t…or are afraid to?” he asked softly from behind me.
And that was the crux of it, wasn’t it?
“I’m going home,” I said. “Send my apologies to your family.”
“I don’t fucking think so,” he growled, grabbing my wrist, again, as I tried to walk away. Then, gentler, added, “Stay. Please.”
Sparing him a glance over my shoulder was a horrible idea, because the second I met his blue gaze, the depths still stormy with desire in the wake of that kiss, my resolve to get as far away from him as possible crumbled.
“For Birdie,” I murmured, then tugged out of his grip and stomped toward the house.
When I got closer, I found Birdie out on the porch, hands on her hips, expression stern. But she must’ve sensed something was wrong, because she pulled me to a stop and said, “Are you okay?”
“Fine.” I tried to assure her with a smile that felt brittle, and I knew it didn’t meet my eyes. “Finn is right behind me.”
I kept moving, not stopping until I was in the family dining room. I reached for the first bottle of alcohol I saw—vodka, but top-shelf at least—poured a healthy serving into a glass and downed the whole thing.
“Rough day?” one of the guys asked, but I didn’t look around to see which. I refilled the glass, dropped onto an empty space at the end of the bench, which happened to be next to Aspen, thankfully, and kept my attention on my lap.
“Ahh, that explains it,” West said when Finn entered the room a moment later. The air in the room changed. Now that we’d given in, if I thought kissing him was enough to take the edge off how badly I wanted to tear his clothes off every time I saw him, I’d been sorely mistaken.
“You okay?” Aspen whispered to me.
“Fine.”
“You wanna talk about it?”
“Later.”
She nodded, giving my hand a squeeze, and let the subject drop.
Dinner was tense. Everyone in the room was aware something had happened between me and Finn. For one, we sat as far away from each other as we could get. Secondly, we made it a point to speak to everyone in the room but each other.
The longer I sat there, letting the tension twist my muscles into knots, I realized I wasn’t mad or embarrassed about what had happened in the barn.
Actually, I was mad. But only because I wasn’t.
I wanted it to happen again, and that made me feel so fucking guilty when my sister was out there somewhere, being held against her will under goddesses knew what kind of conditions.
Being able to enjoy this incredible man who was so sweet and caring with me when she was likely stuck with one who only wanted to harm her—and me—wasn’t fair.
I hated myself for wanting him but couldn’t imagine a universe in which I could deny myself having him, either.
Our ride home was tense and silent, and I hated to admit I couldn’t wait to get away from him, if only so I’d have a moment to breathe and get my head on straight.
The night we’d sipped bourbon and talked, I thought I wanted this. But my brain was a jumble of conflicting thoughts, and I was starting to wonder…what would it cost me to truly give into this attraction between us?
I feared the price was too high. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt him, and I was afraid we were on a runaway train in that direction.
The moment we stopped in front of his house, I was out of the car and rushing inside, not stopping until I’d safely shut myself in the guest room I now called mine.
A reckoning was coming, but tonight was not the night I’d face it.
So like the fucking coward I was—I locked the door behind me.