Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
M ak had never given thought to how attractive a man could be sitting a horse in a good-fitting pair of jeans.
But Finn?
As Sadie ambled along behind Duke at a slow pace, Mak had practically nothing to do by way of guiding the animal. So once she’d taken in the scenery—she took in the scenery.
One very broad-shouldered and muscular male who rode his massive horse like he’d been born in the saddle.
Man and animal moved as one, and Finn rested one lean, veined hand casually on his thigh as they rode through the woods.
But all the looking had led to thinking. And all the thinking had led to over thinking and just wanting to clear the air once and for all as to whether Brad’s words held any weight.
Because she had to know. Because for all the talks she’d had with Sam since she’d moved in with him, they hadn’t discussed her being his heir or what he planned, and she absolutely wasn’t about to ask because she didn’t feel it was her place to do so. That wasn’t why she’d agreed to stay with him and help him. Especially not when Sam’s invitation allowed her the ability to save. What Sam decided, he decided on his own.
But in her rambling search for answers from Finn, she could tell she’d angered him.
And now she stared at the ruggedly gorgeous face of a furious man. “Finn…I-I just?—”
His jaw locked tight as he nudged Duke and started riding again. Sadie kept pace, but Mak’s heart pounded against her chest, and she had flashbacks of moments with Brad. Of that night on vacation, in the dark, on that wet, curving road in the pouring rain.
Finally the trail opened, and they broke onto a stretch of beach along the Cape Fear. Or was it the intercoastal? She wasn’t sure, but the waterways blended seamlessly up ahead, with the Atlantic a peep of blue in the far distance.
She was so focused on replaying her blundering ramble in her head that the sun-bleached sand and beautiful surroundings barely registered.
Sadie followed Duke, and Mak stared at the rigid shoulders of her companion, wondering if he would explode like Brad had whenever she questioned him. Or would he stay silent—like that car ride.
Sand and tall pines lined the waterway, along with time-aged trunks weathered to a ghostly sheen. The beauty didn’t matter now, though. Not when she felt herself getting more and more anxious with every clomp of Sadie’s hooves, a sick twist in her stomach.
They trod along for a long while, though it was probably only minutes, following the bend to a place she’d only ever seen in photographs. Across the way, she spotted the cove Carolina Cove was named for.
That’s where Finn stopped and once again waited for her to catch up.
“N-need a break?”
Her thigh and back muscles had tightened from the ride, made worse by the tension riddling her body as she waited for his response. So she nodded, more than ready for a bit of walking. “Yeah.”
It was a long way down off Sadie. She tried to figure out how she’d manage without spraining or breaking something. She doubted Finn would help her now. Brad certainly wouldn’t have—because he’d make it part of whatever lesson he felt she needed to learn.
Finn dismounted in an enviously smooth motion. He dropped Duke’s reins and moved to Sadie’s side, reaching up without a word.
She braced her hands on his upper arms and slid from Sadie’s back, feeling Finn’s muscles flex as he caught her weight and gently lowered her to the sand.
Mak stared up at him, squinting from the sun overhead when he remained close.
Finn was angry. She could tell he was angry. And she fought off the fear threatening to swallow her as she awaited his reaction. “I’m sorry. For blurting that out the way that I did. I know you and Brad have a history. And I also know Brad says things—but if there’s any truth to what he said, I hope you’re honest enough to tell me.”
Finn’s expression turned to stone, and her heart sank.
“S-Sam and I h-have talked. I thought y-you knew.”
Disappointment filled her along with a surge of painful insecurity. “No. And I haven’t asked because it’s none of my business and whatever Sam decides is up to him. But thank you. For being honest about why you’ve been helping me so much.”
She backed away from him and turned, walking to the water’s edge.
She needed space and air and time to fight the hurt she felt. Would time even help? Was she a backup plan?
She glanced over her shoulder to where Finn stood a few steps away. He looked uncomfortable, but she didn’t care. “So that’s the goal, huh? You do want the property?”
He stared at her a long moment before he nodded. “Y-yes.”
Her stomach knotted. “Has Sam agreed?”
“We’ve t-talked.”
Right. But discussing the sale didn’t guarantee one, which sank the truth of the matter even deeper into her battered psyche like a hot knife through butter. “I suppose showing interest in me is a good way to hedge your bets in case you and Sam can’t work out a deal and I do inherit it from him.”
Finn slowly walked toward her. He lifted his hand and gently slid his fingers into her hair at her nape. His gaze revealed his upset, but his hold remained loose and easy, light. She fought the urge to look away, her heart tugging at the sight. Was it real? Or fake—like Brad’s?
But whatever Finn wanted to say? Should say?
He didn’t.
Or couldn’t.
Maybe because there was a niggle of truth in the mix? Enough that he couldn’t deny innocence? “Take me back. Please. I want to go home.”
“Mak.”
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” she said with a rush. “Despite us k-kissing, we’ve already agreed on our relationship. Business associates. Neighbors. We’ve agreed it’s best if we keep it at that and nothing more.”
She blinked up at him and fought back the surge of anxiety overtaking her. The bombardment of past and present. Of fights and bruises. Being love bombed and cajoled and desired—and then being nothing. Something—someone—to be used and discarded, belittled and scorned and shown her worth.
The parallels were there, and she wasn’t sure where the line was separating them.
Suddenly it was all just too much. Life was too much. She felt overwhelmed and unsure and locked in a place from which she couldn’t break free.
She released a frustrated sound, and Finn’s expression softened. He inhaled a ragged breath and used his hold to tug her against him, cuddling her close with a gentleness that crushed her defenses faster than she could shore them up.
For a man of such few words, he seemed to have an ability to see her. To sense her emotions and know when to push her—and when to retreat.
But was it sincere—or manipulative?
His lips brushed her temple in a comforting caress, and one of his big hands gently rubbed up and down her back in soothing strokes. She fought back the sting of tears, refusing to give into them. To him.
“Let’s g-go h-home.”
Finn held the horses’ reins as they slowly fell into step beside one another.
She felt angry and unsure but told herself she couldn’t be upset when she’d asked a question and Finn had been honest. It’s what she wanted, wasn’t it?
Maybe her anger stemmed from trying so hard to deny her attraction to Finn? Or—more likely—because Brad had been right?
She had to be smart. Had to stay focused. Had to put her future, Emi’s future, first.
She couldn’t afford to let her guard down. To risk heartbreak. Not when the months ahead of her required her to be strong for Sam and her daughter and—herself. For the inevitable loss and chaos to follow as they made their next steps. Whatever those would be.
A boat came barreling down the waterway, the motor loud as it echoed off the water and waves rippled to the edge of the shore.
Finn lifted his hand to wave back at the boat captain, but Mak ignored the man and kept walking, her mind too full of questions to fake friendliness.
“D-don’t b-be sc-scared.”
She lifted her head from where she stared down at the sand and turned to look at Finn. “What?”
A muscle spasmed in his jawline.
“You’re s-safe with m-me. Always.”
Mak felt her heart shatter. Finn might not know everything there was to know about her life with Brad, but he obviously sensed enough.
“I sc-scared y-you b-back there. M-my anger.”
She supposed he had scared her. But only for a moment. And only because she’d thought of Brad. Not because of anything Finn had actually done. “It wasn’t you. Not really. I just— Communication is important.”
His features tightened even more, and she cringed at her words. “I mean when I asked and you kept riding, ignored me— It reminded me of the past…and Brad.”
Yeah, there’s something every man wants to hear. Friend or lover alike.
“Like I said, it’s none of my business what you and Sam decide, but thank you for being honest with me.”
She didn’t want to be in the middle. To find herself struggling more than she already was. She knew what would happen if she allowed herself to lean on the shoulder Finn had offered, even for a moment. “Sam thinks the world of you, you know. I hope whatever is decided, you’ll do right by him.”
“And y-you?”
Her steps faltered, and she stopped walking. A breeze pulled strands of hair from her braid and blew them over her cheek, but before she could react, Finn’s long fingers were there, oh-so gently brushing them back and tucking them behind her ear.
He lingered over the doing, the pad of his calloused thumb stroking the shell of her ear with a tenderness that matched the look in his gaze.
“I’m in therapy,” she blurted out, shocking herself and apparently Finn with the admission, if the shift in his expression was anything to go by. “I’m not sure why I’m telling you this, except that it’s helped me sort through some things and get a different perspective, I suppose. Just— I hope you are the kind of man Sam believes you to be. And I’m sorry if I insulted you, but life with Brad— I admit it messed with my head, and I tend to see everything through Brad-colored lenses these days.”
“B-bad things?”
The husky timbre of his voice gave her another pause. That and the question asked with a compelling stare that drew her like nothing had before. “Yeah. But I’m figuring out that I’m stronger than I think—and I’m protective of those I love. So, please, do not hurt Sam. And don’t pretend. With me. To like me. It’s not necessary.”
It meant so much to her that Finn and his family had stepped up for her. Even if he had other reasons for doing so.
She forced her gaze up to Finn, and the expression on his face left her floundering.
That thumb of his stroked over her ear again, and a shiver raced down her neck and brought goose bumps to her skin.
“N-not p-pretending.”
A part of her warned her to pull away and keep walking. Reminded her that she couldn’t call him a friend and tell him no and still let him be so…familiar.
But for the briefest moment, she allowed herself to lean her face into his touch before she forced herself to pull away and walk again.
Finn fell into step beside her, the horses trailing behind.
“I w-was in th-therapy for a while too. The horses h-helped more.”
And since maybe that was a safer subject, she grasped onto it with both hands. “Your stutter started after the accident?”
A tight nod was her answer, and the fact he’d had such a physical response to the tragedy wasn’t lost on her.
People responded in their own ways, whether with anxiety or bravado to get through the moment or—stutters full of pain. “What happened? Can you talk about it?”
The words came out of her before she could stop them, but a glance up at Finn’s jawline told her she’d struck a nerve. “It’s fine. You don’t have to. Some things are too painful to discuss.”
They traveled several more steps before she heard him exhale.
“W-watched them d-die.”
The words were said in such a low voice she barely caught them with the sound of the water and the birds and the sandy clomps of the horses’ hooves. But she heard them. And her heart broke for him all over again. “Finn, I’m so sorry. You were…in the car? In the accident?”
Another nod.
He couldn’t have been more than a child when it had happened. At the birthday party for Hudson, she’d been regaled with stories of Alec, the oldest of them, raising them from the time he’d turned eighteen. Given the number of siblings between the two men and what she guessed to be their ages, she’d place Finn at around twelve or thirteen when it happened.
She smoothed a hand over her stomach, fingers twisting in the hem of the tank she wore.
“I…w-watched,” he said. “Trapped in th-the b-back.”
She turned toward him then and practically flung herself against him, wrapping her arms around his lean waist. She pressed her face into his chest.
Finn stiffened at first, but then his arms surrounded her, and she panted out a breath when he returned her embrace too tightly. Like he’d needed a hug badly, and it had been too long. “I’m so sorry, Finn.”
They stood like that for a long moment, but she didn’t let go. Couldn’t bring herself to.
Because no matter their differences, no child deserved that. No person. She hugged the boy he’d been, the one so traumatized by what he’d seen and experienced that he’d lost the ability to speak properly, and the man still carrying that burden to this day.
Mak pictured Emi in his stead, and her heart broke all over again. “You blame yourself, don’t you?”
She wasn’t sure where the thought came from or how she knew it was true, but she did. She felt it in the way he held himself so rigid, and the pain in his gaze when she lifted her head and stared up at him.
He leaned low and rested his forehead on hers.
“W-wouldn’t have b-been there if not for m-me,” he told her softly. “M-my f-fault.”
“No, Finn. It’s not.”
“I m-made us l-late.”
He’d made them late, so he thought— “You were a child . Would you blame Emi for making you late? Hold her responsible?”
A scowl marred his handsome face as he battled his emotions.
“L-late b-because of me,” he said again, straightening.
“So if I made us late and we were in an accident, you’d blame me? No, I mean it,” she said when she felt him withdraw from her. “There’s no double standard here. You can’t blame yourself and not blame me or Emi in that same situation. But you wouldn’t. Don’t you see that? Finn… It’s impossible to protect someone else from pain. It happens. It’s horrible and you want to help, but you can’t take that on yourself.”
When he hesitated and remained silent, she rushed to continue. “What if— What if you wrote them a letter? Your parents. Told them everything you feel about it being your fault? Write it down and get it out of you. Then, I don’t know, burn it? Bury it with them? Because it’s not your fault. It was just…an awful, horrible accident. But they wouldn’t want you carrying this burden. I know they wouldn’t.”
He shook his head, but she wasn’t giving up so easily.
“Put yourself in their shoes, Finn. You’re an adult now. See it from that perspective. I’d never want Emi to carry the pain you’re carrying. And I know they wouldn’t want that for you.”
Finn didn’t acknowledge her words. He snagged Sadie’s reins and drew the horse closer before urging Mak toward the saddle.
After he’d swung her up and placed her feet in the stirrups like he had earlier, Mak leaned low and caught his hand before he could move away.
“Finn, you asked me to take a chance on you. On us. To fight for us. But how can we have a future when you can’t forgive yourself? I’ve been with a man who wouldn’t take responsibility for any thing. It’s always everyone else’s fault and never his. But you? You’re holding onto something you didn’t do. Something you aren’t responsible for.”
Their gazes locked. And despite her questions and upset as to whether or not he hedged his bets in order to get Sam’s property, she couldn’t let Finn believe he was to blame for the accident. “Write the letter. Say all the things. Then let it go for their sake, if not your own. Because until you do? I can’t even think about risking my heart or future on you.”