Chapter Eleven
Kieran and Finley cleaned both their dinner and dessert plates before tapping out.
His stomach ached in protest, and he was grateful he’d had a week of Harry’s amazing cuisine before attempting the diner stunt.
Tension had eased between them while they were shoveling food into their mouths, but it returned tenfold when they were alone in the truck, heading back to the ranch with Cash’s pie sitting on the console between them.
“I’m really sorry,” Finley said softly. “I feel like I should tell Cash what happened in the alley.”
That snapped Kieran out of his food coma. “What the hell for?”
“My behavior was inexcusable, and I betrayed Cash’s trust and yours.”
Kieran would’ve sighed heavily, but he worried the air would come out in an embarrassing belch. “Cash has nothing to do with what is happening between you and me.” Too late, he realized how that sounded.
“What is happening between us?” Finley asked.
“Fuck if I know, but it doesn’t have a thing to do with our boss. And I’m not sorry about the kiss. I don’t want you to be either.”
Their kiss had been brief and chaste, something that should’ve barely registered on the Richter scale of embraces, yet it had rattled Kieran’s bones and left him achingly hard.
He hadn’t felt violated or threatened, but the memory of Finley’s sweet lips pressed against his threatened to upend his focus and possibly his sanity.
Finley’s determination to be the person who wouldn’t let Kieran down was even more arousing than the kiss, putting everything he’d held dear in jeopardy.
Doing time for a crime he hadn’t committed had threatened to destroy him in ways his parents’ abandonment and the welfare system’s neglect had not.
Continuing to work with Finley could be the biggest mistake he ever made, but he’d rather find out and fail than miss out on a single second with the alluring man.
“Okay,” Finley agreed. “I don’t really regret our kiss.”
But it couldn’t happen again. Anything more would constitute a full disclosure that he wasn’t ready to give.
Kieran needed to keep his head on straight and start looking for answers.
He’d had all the time in the world to reflect on everything he knew about Ritchie.
Kieran had talked to the inmates who were serving time for boosting cars.
They told him about an auto theft ring that would pop up and disappear like a ghost. No one knew who was behind it.
Bits and pieces started clicking into place, and he realized Ritchie had to be involved, but there was no way in hell the dumbass was the one calling the shots.
It would take a savvy person who was above reproach and had the right connections.
Was Cash Sweeney that someone? Was his ranch a recruiting ground?
They spent the rest of the drive back to the ranch in silence, and he set his tumultuous thoughts aside until he was alone in his small cabin.
Then everything he’d suppressed came rushing back to him—seeing Ritchie, kissing Finley, and divulging more than he was comfortable sharing.
He’d revealed little, but it was more than he’d planned to tell anyone, another warning sign he’d ignored.
Overstimulated in more ways than one, Kieran stripped out of his clothes and took a scalding hot shower.
His skin tingled beneath the spray and his dick stood at attention.
Fucking his fist wasn’t another delay tactic; it was an act of necessity, just as important as breathing when Kieran remembered the way Finley had licked his lips upon seeing his erection.
He came fast and hard but at least stayed upright.
Surely, his urges and reactions to the man would settle down with time.
Kieran soaped his body and washed his hair as soon as his breathing returned to normal.
He felt much calmer once he dried off, dressed, and settled on the loveseat with a throw blanket over his lap and a paperback in his hand.
One positive takeaway from serving jail time was finding pleasure in the simplest things.
The soft flannel pants, cotton tank, plush blanket, and comfortable furniture were a luxury he refused to take for granted.
Calmness washed over him as he opened his book and read, but it didn’t last long.
Someone knocked on the door before he finished the first page.
Not someone. Finley. Kieran knew the identity of his visitor without looking.
He debated not answering for about ten seconds before throwing off the blanket and setting his book on the coffee table.
Kieran recalled the determination shimmering in Finley’s gaze and couldn’t resist his lure.
He opened the door, and sure enough, Finley Ashe stood on his stoop with a DVD in one hand and a package of microwavable popcorn in the other.
He’d showered too but was dressed in another pair of jeans, a darker wash than earlier, and a different Henley in a light gray.
The hue made Finley’s eyes look darker as they took in every inch of his body.
His gazed lingered on Kieran’s bare feet before snapping back up to lock eyes with him.
Kieran crossed his arms over his chest, and that green gaze fell to his biceps.
He didn’t need a mirror to know his arms look ripped in the pose.
Tension filled Kieran’s body, making his biceps bunch even tighter.
Finley swallowed hard and met his gaze once more.
Damn, he was truly the most beautiful man Kieran had ever seen.
“That better not be an apology,” he said gruffly.
Finley’s cheeks colored a little, and he inhaled shakily. “Just a surprise.”
Kieran lifted a brow and leaned against the doorjamb. “You’ve piqued my curiosity.”
Finley lifted the DVD to reveal The Count of Monte Cristo.
“There’s an extensive selection of movies in the library.
I thought you might enjoy this one, so I grabbed it when I dropped off Cash’s pie.
” Finley skimmed his gaze over Kieran once more, then extended the movie and popcorn package to him.
“I just wanted to drop these off for you to enjoy when it’s convenient. ”
Finley’s words said he didn’t plan to linger, but his eyes communicated something else entirely. Hope was a dangerous emotion, and Kieran had no right to flirt with it or to lead Finley on.
He accepted the offering with a thanks, then added, “I don’t think I have a way to watch the movie here.”
Finley scrunched up his brow. “You should have a DVD player.”
Shaking his head, Kieran said, “It isn’t on or in the entertainment center.”
“The closet?” Finley asked.
“No. Just my clothes and bed linens are in there.”
“Probably inside the coffee table,” Finley said.
Kieran looked over at the rustic wooden trunk in front of his loveseat. It looked like a movie prop. He faced Finley again. “That thing works?”
“Yeah, the top slides open instead of lifting.”
“How do you know so much about the cabins?” Kieran hated the little green monster that rose to the surface anytime he imagined Finley with another guy. Freaking ridiculous.
As if reading Kieran’s mind, Finley rolled his eyes. “I lived in one of them when I first started working here. I moved to the old homestead once Cash promoted me to the equine supervisor position.”
Kieran resented the relief flooding his system. He hadn’t been a choir boy before they’d met, so why was he holding Finley to a different standard? Because Finley made him want things he had no business coveting. “Mind showing me how the coffee table works?”
“Of course.”
Kieran turned away and took the few steps to the loveseat. The door shut softly behind him, and anticipation skimmed down his spine. The place had been small when it was just him, but it felt like all the air had been sucked out of the space when Finley joined him.
Kieran moved to the other end of the trunk and turned in time to see Finley push the top open to reveal more folded blankets, some board games and card games, and a DVD player with all the cables and a remote.
“I’ll be damned,” Kieran said. “That’s pretty badass.”
“Well, you’re all set unless you need help hooking it up,” Finley said.
He wasn’t insulted; he knew plenty of people who weren’t good with electronics or technology. “Nah, I’m good.”
“Then I’ll just head out,” Finley said. “Enjoy your movie. It’s a wonderful adaptation of the book, and that isn’t something I say often.”
Kieran should’ve squashed the hope shimmering in Finley’s gaze, but he couldn’t.
“Or you could stay and watch the movie with me.” Kieran looked down at the popcorn.
He was on the verge of saying he didn’t have room for more food, but it would give his hands something to do other than reaching for Finley.
“Are you sure?”
Sure this was a mistake? Yeah, but he wouldn’t take back the invite if he could, and severing his own finger would’ve been easier than rescinding the offer.
Kieran really enjoyed having Finley in his space, even if it would be cramped on the couch.
Or maybe especially because it would be a tight fit.
He’d be in big trouble if he let his dirty mind pick up that thread and run with it.
“I’m sure. I’ll make the popcorn while you set up the DVD player. ”
“Deal.”
Kieran headed toward the kitchenette. He removed the wrapper, popped the package into the microwave, and pressed the popcorn button. “I don’t have anything to drink. Is tap water okay?”
“Sure.”