Chapter 34
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Finn’s smile was enough to melt her.
“Now you’ve got to show me,” he said.
Maisie shook her head, clapping the book closed and holding her fingers over it securely. “I’m just telling you right now, there is nothing you can do to make me ever show you that page,” she stated firmly, her insides flopping all over the place at the very idea of him seeing what she’d written.
“Come on,” he pleaded. “How ’bout we make an exchange? If I tell you a secret ’bout the first time we saw each other, will you show me what’s on the page?”
She thought for a second. His secret would have to be humongous. “Why don’t you tell me it first, then I’ll see if it’s enough to earn looking at the rest of the book.”
“Fair enough. Right. Do you remember how I ran over that curb as I pulled out of Belfast?”
She nodded. How could she forget? “Bob was so huge, you had to mount the curb in order to not run into incoming traffic. Right?”
“Naw. I could’ve easily cleared the curb. I ran over it ’cause I was too busy lookin’ in the rearview mirror at the gorgeous straggler who’d just come runnin’ onto me bus. ”
Maisie’s cheeks burned, her smile brighter than the lamplight above. “Are you serious?”
“Deadly serious.” He motioned to the book. “That should warrant a little peek at that page now, aye?”
While his admission had made her heart take flight, it was nowhere as embarrassing as she needed it to be.
“No, sorry,” she said, holding her book to her stomach and clutching it tightly.
“No?” he said, laughing in surprise. “It’s that bad then, is it?”
She glanced at him sidelong. “Yes.”
He rubbed his chin, leaning back, though his arm still rested on the back of the bench behind her. “Alright, let’s see. Somethin’ else.” He seemed to think for a minute, then leaned toward her. “What if I finally voice aloud how much I like you?”
She looked up at him, his eyes staring out at sea, though his smile more present than ever. “That might work.”
“I like you, Maisie. Quite a bit.”
She laughed at his straightforward words, though her spirits had jumped straight through the gathering clouds above.
“So…” he prompted, motioning to the book again.
Maisie bit her lip. Obviously, he wasn’t going to give in. She thought back to the words she’d written about him a few days before. They hadn’t been terrible, right? And honestly, what did it matter if he saw it now when he’d already admitted that he liked her?
With a heavy sigh, she relented. “Fine. Take it.”
She held it up for him, and he accepted it like a candy-starved child, flipping through the pages to find the one she’d skipped.
“I’m just going to be over there when you read it,” she added.
“What?” he questioned.
But she was already up from the bench, walking swiftly away from him.
Finn chuckled. “Ach, you’re not gettin’ out of this, Maisie.”
He ran up to her, clasping her hand in his .
“No, I seriously can’t even handle the thought of it,” she said, her face on fire.
But he grinned all the more. “Come on, you’ve got to stay right here with me.”
In a swift movement, he pulled her toward him, spinning her around so her back was flush against his chest, then he wrapped his arms around her and leaned in close, his left cheek to her right.
“No,” she weakly opposed. “I seriously can’t even.”
As in, she couldn’t even breathe . She couldn’t even function . If she’d thought she’d been in a haze before, that was nothing compared to the euphoria she felt with Finn’s arms around her.
“Alright, let’s see here,” Finn said, his deep voice rich in her ear. He flipped through the pages, finally finding the one she’d hidden from him, shifting the book toward the light of the streetlamp as he read. “Ah, here it is.” He paused. “You…you wrote an entire entry in your food journal about me ?”
Maisie dared a single glance at the page and wished to heaven that she hadn’t. “Oh my gosh. I’m such a loser.”
She pulled her hands up and hid her face as Finn laughed heartily. He wrapped his free hand around her wrist gently, then held the book out for both of them to see.
“I thought you only added the meals you ate,” he continued.
She didn’t even have a response for him, nor did she think he was in search of one. Clearly, he was too taken with reading her absolutely mortifying review of him.
“This has to be the best thing I’ve ever read in my entire life,” he said.
Maisie could hardly bear it.
“I definitely shouldn’t have shown this to you,” she mumbled, peeping through her fingers at the words.
It was like not being able to look away from a car crash. Honestly, the hearts, the “A+” appearance. The “probably tastes like Fifteens and Heaven.” What on earth had she been thinking?
Finn shook his head, his scruff tickling her cheek. “No, this is cracker.”
“You would say that,” she mumbled.
“This is me favorite part right here,” he said, his finger moving from her wrist to the words as he read them aloud. “Pairs well with blonde Americans. I mean, you’ve got this recipe down, I must say.”
She couldn’t hide her smile, even with her humiliation.
“And the award I achieved?” he said. “I accept. And the little love hearts? Oh! I got the goosebump checkmark? Look at me go!”
She shook her head again.
“And this?” he pointed to the “tastes like” statement. “You’ll have to tell me if that’s true.”
Her face continued to burn, her pulse through the roof.
“When did you write this?” he asked, a smile on his voice.
“On the way to Dunluce,” she said, still grimacing, “when we were stopped in traffic.”
“Aye, the stop. If only I’d have gone back there when you were writin’ it.”
“You weren’t talking to me that day, remember?” she countered.
He didn’t respond for a moment. “Yeah, sorry about that again.” He secured his arms around her. “I hope this is makin’ up for it.”
Little did he know what it was doing to her.
“Well,” he said, “I think it’s safe to say that I need a copy of this evaluation. It’s done me confidence quite a lot of good, it has.”
“As if you needed any help in that regard.”
He closed the book, though he kept his arms around her.
“You really enjoyed that, didn’t you?” she asked, hoping she didn’t sound as breathless as she felt.
“I really did,” he said, his voice softer. “Thank you for that.”
“You’re welcome,” she said flatly. “I’m sure you can see that your two little comments hold nothing to what you just read, though. ”
Staring out at the sea, she leaned a bit more against him, and his arms tightened around her.
“How ’bout I make it up to you?” he asked.
His face drew closer to hers until his lips were nearly touching her cheek.
She absentmindedly slipped her notebook back into her pocket to free her hands. “How?” she questioned, though she prayed she already knew the answer.
“By tellin’ you somethin’ I’ve not admitted aloud to anyone yet,” he started, “not even meself.”
She swallowed hard, her legs unstable.
“How ’bout,” he began, “I tell you the truth? Because from the moment I saw you in that rearview mirror, I’ve thought of little else but you, and how it might feel holdin’ you in me arms.”
He shifted closer toward her, his scruff prickly against her skin, and she closed her eyes for a moment, drawing deep breaths as his lips brushed against her cheek.
“Does that make us even, Maisie?” he asked, his throaty whisper floating in her ears and drifting toward her heart.
She couldn’t speak, so she delivered a nod, feeling a magnetism to him as her neck shifted, drawing her brow closer to his lips.
“Then, perhaps…” he whispered, his lips moving softly against her temple, “we ought to see if I do taste like Fifteens and heaven…”
A smile touched her lips. He loosened his arms around her and turned her to face him, the smile in his eyes melting any residual embarrassment she would have felt because yes—she needed to know if that’s exactly what Finn tasted like.
Part of her thought that perhaps she should have stayed facing away from him, because then she might’ve had the willpower to ask him if this was wise to pursue.
But the look of desire in his eyes sent away any further worry from her mind, leaving behind nothing but Finn. He slid his hands to rest between her neck and jawline, his thumbs caressing her cheeks and fingers cradling her securely as he leaned toward her and finally pressed his lips to hers.
Maisie was in a dream. Gone were her worries about the repercussions of what might occur if they kissed, replaced solely with the present, with Finn’s arms around her, with Finn’s kiss as her own.
A drop of moisture tapped against her cheek, then another on her brow and eyelash before she realized those dark clouds above had finally begun to release their moisture.
Finn pulled back after a moment, cupping her face in his hands and wiping away the droplets from her brow before diving headlong into another kiss, this one more heart-racing than the other as he fully shared his feelings for her.
While gentle, his grasp on her was secure, his fingers reaching to the back of her head, holding her securely in place, every bit as possessive as when he’d held her hand on stage the night before. His lips met hers softly again and again, and she responded each time, clutching the fabric of his sweater at his sides to anchor herself to the man who’d captured her.
She had never experienced anything like this before. His kiss was so rich . So full of life. So full of emotion and feeling and…heart.
And in that moment, she knew there was nothing else she wanted to do more with her life, than spend the rest of it being kissed by Finn O’Meara, Bus Driver & Tour Guide Extraordinaire—who really did taste like Fifteens and Heaven and who had now just won the award of “Best Kisser Ever.”