29. Finn
twenty-nine
Finn
I ’m not sure what I expected the town’s response to be the morning after kissing Vivian.
Picketing? Tomato throwing? General upheaval over me locking lips with the local sweetheart?
For the most part, I’m met with knowing grins as I walk to the library.
Then I’m darn near accosted by back slaps and exuberant hugs from my coworkers.
Even Robert says, “I’m excited as all get out,” with absolutely no change in facial expression.
I never thought I’d be grateful for small-town gossip and how up in your business people can get after being at the receiving end of everyone’s disapproval when I moved here. The fact is, I would have kissed Vivian back even if I was still the town villain. I’d have been helpless not to.
But I have to admit, the external validation is…nice. It’s akin to the sense of belonging that comes when I enter the market and someone calls me by name or when everyone on my morning run smiles and waves back.
When Carol Cook barges into my office a few minutes after the library doors open, I grin, almost excited to see what she’ll throw at me. “Are you going to make an honest girl of our Vivian?”
I barely restrain a chuckle. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t pretend you didn’t hear me.” Carol cane-walks through my door and attempts to slam it closed but, due to the fact that the glass door has a hefty hydraulic system, fails miserably.
“That was anticlimactic,” she murmurs before spinning to me with a pointed finger. Today’s nail polish matches her smudged lipstick—a purply mauve. “Much like your love life will be without my help.”
“Mrs. Cook,” I begin, my tone cordial, though a flick of irritation courses through me.
She rolls her eyes. “Spare me.” Then she deepens her voice. “I’m young and handsome, but all foam, no beer, and can’t see a good thing when it’s right in front of me.”
My slow inhale pulls my dress shirt taut against my chest. “I can assure you that—”
“Bap bap bap.” Her interrupting sound is akin to one you’d use to stop a wayward dog from jumping up on bed. “You know nothing about how things work in this town.”
Since Carol clearly needs to say her fill, I slide my hands in my pockets. “Enlighten me.”
It takes several seconds for Carol’s lips to fully curl in a smile, almost as if drawn out for dramatic effect. Clearly being the holder of the town’s information is a position she relishes. I take one hand out of my pocket, rolling it in the air to hurry her along.
She makes a dismissive noise before hobbling over to my desk chair and making herself comfortable. Once Carol has adjusted her pink trousers and matching blouse, she catches my gaze.
“You may have run around, slobbering on others in the past—”
“I did not slobber—” Carol silences me with a single tattooed eyebrow.
“You may have had casual dalliances in the past, but Vivian is an old-fashioned girl—”
“Woman,” I interrupt, unable to keep the slight edge out of my tone.
Carol tilts her head but keeps her smile of approval muted.
“Vivian is a woman who deserves more than kisses against the sides of buildings for everyone to see.” She tugs at the collar of her shirt as if to steady herself, but I’m sure it’s part of the performance.
“The next course of action is clear. It’s time you asked her to the ball.
You’re obviously infatuated with her. She’s clearly enticed by”—Carol pauses, flicking her open palm over my appearance—“all of this, so there’s no time like the present. ”
It’s my turn to smirk at the indomitable Carol Cook.
“It seems I mistook you as an observant woman...” I see the exact second Carol stops herself from taking the bait.
“Because someone who clearly has their thumb on the pulse of this town would know that I am not a man of questionable character. It is my full intention to ask Vivian to the library fundraiser.”
“Glad we’re on the same page,” she continues, a mischievous gleam in her eye.
“I don’t like mainlanders, but I’ve made an exception for you because Vivian likes you.
Everyone thinks Vivian is naive, but she’s a good judge of character—you end up being one when all you do is observe.
Though I trust her judgment, believe me when I say I will rip you limb from limb if you ever do anything to hurt her. ”
“I would rather drown than cause Vivian pain.”
The truth escaping my mouth feels like a sucker punch to the stomach, but its veracity rings like a reassuring pulse throughout my body.
A soft four-letter word slips through my mind, but before I can analyze it, Carol makes two attempts to stand, distracting me.
I cross behind the desk, but she’s successful before I can help her up.
Carol quirks her lips as if to dismiss me but then rests a hand on my shoulder.
“Life is full of uncertainty. You can plan and plot, but you never know what’s around the corner,” she says, giving me a little pinch.
“That’s why I start every day with a cinnamon roll.
You’ve got to enjoy things while you can. ”
The moment is almost as sweet as the dozens I shared with Magda. A wave of nostalgia washes over me as my lips slip into a smile. Carol’s face softens into a small grin before she uses her cane against my shins.
“Now move out of the way. I’ve got to get to Dotty’s and inform her that her grandson was the one who vandalized the lifeguard towers. Shameful behavior.” Though her words are admonishing, the corners of her lips quiver as if restraining a delighted smile.
The next hour is a whirlwind of planning for the fundraiser, but I manage to break away a little after ten.
Carol is right. I should have done this the second Vivian’s lips fell from mine.
The morning’s stagnant haze has been burned off by the bright sun, but the oppressive humidity threatens to turn my shirt into a sodden mess during the short walk to Vivian’s Alterations.
“Be with you in a minute.” The words come out muffled, her mouth occupied by several color-tipped pins as Vivian hunches over a men’s shirt when I enter her shop.
A song whispers in the background as my heart tries to beat out of my chest at the sight of her.
Her hair is half up, a few springy tendrils kissing her temples.
She’s wearing the same green sundress she had on the day we met, when she crashed into me and everything changed.
I’d initially thought the lingering pressure in my lungs that morning had been from the force of her hitting me, but now I realize it was her.
Vivian’s effortless beauty had captivated me even when I’d been trying to dismiss her out of habit and self-preservation.
Vivian finally glances up, two pins tumbling from her mouth and pinging on the polished cement floor. “Finn.”
When she doesn’t instantly smile, I self-consciously run a hand over my vest. “Good morning.”
Her lips part, but Vivian doesn’t speak, only tucks her bottom lip between her teeth.
A thousand questions swarm my head like hornets. Does she regret last night? Is this the end? Do I need to carve my heart out of my chest with a melon baller?
Out of habit, I set a flirty smile to my lips, straightening a pile of button boxes on her large worktable. “I assume you’ll be incredibly busy with everyone’s alterations, and I wanted to make my appointment first.”
Coward. Just ask her out.
I ignore the unhelpful thought and stride forward, sliding my hands into my pockets and deciding to up the ante.
“I’ve ordered everything I need, but if you haven’t noticed”—I pull my shoulders back, subtly broadening my chest—“I prefer garments to fit me perfectly.”
Heat flashes in her eyes, and the relief is so overwhelmingly sweet that my knees nearly buckle. Vivian sets aside the shirt and stands, her yellow measuring tape dangling around her neck. “I’ll need to take some measurements so when your clothes arrive I can adjust them accordingly.”
“Of course.” It takes effort to keep my voice even. I started this flirty exchange, but Vivian is in control now.
She pauses beside me for millisecond, her gaze flicking to mine before gesturing to her octagonal step riser. “Face the windows please. Stand off the riser so I can use it first.”
It feels like the AC just went out, and the room floods with summer heat as I await her touch.
Her fingers start at the back of my shoulders first, sliding the measuring tape from one edge to the other.
The puff of breath at the nape of my neck has me pressing my eyes closed, struggling to keep composure.
Every movement is slow and deliberate, her touch a tad heavier than innocent.
Vivian measures my arm length next, followed by biceps and wrist circumference.
Having my measurements taken isn’t a new experience, but it’s a challenge to keep my heart rate from ratcheting when Vivian’s fingers pause at the pulse point on my wrist.
“Turn around, please.” With her still on the riser, our faces perfectly align.
“Um—” She licks her lips, her confidence flickering, and gestures to her own neck.
My chin lifts in understanding as her fingers close the measuring tape around my bobbing Adam’s apple.
I try not to flinch when her fingertips dip into the notch between my collarbones, her eyelashes fluttering slightly.
The moment hovers for what feels like years until the measuring tape slides from my neck.
I lift my arms so Vivian can place the tape around my back, lowering them when she gathers the yellow band around my chest. My ribs are expanding too quickly, though.
I know I should breathe normally so she can get an accurate measurement, but it feels like thunder is building in my veins.
When her hands collect over my heart, I’ll lose the battle I’ve been waging with my impulses.
I won’t be able to stop from sliding my fingers beneath that beautiful tangle of curls, from using my other hand to tilt her jaw up.
Her hands freeze, the measuring tape six inches away from the buttons of my shirt, almost as if Vivian knows. Those gorgeous green eyes meet mine, an uneven breath skittering between her parted lips.
“What color is your tailcoat?”
My fingers flex at my sides, poorly dissipating the debilitating tension. “Green,” I grit out.
“Green?”
My body is too strained for this conversation inside a conversation.
I ache to touch Vivian, but more importantly, I need her to understand that what’s happening between us isn’t like the other relationships I’ve had since my broken engagement.
Those I kept superficial to focus on my professional goals and to keep myself protected.
Though my heart thrashes in my ribcage, I choose this moment not only to be honest, but vulnerable.
“I assumed that was the color you’d choose for your gown, since you look gorgeous in it. Though I probably should have consulted you on the exact hue so we don’t clash. It’s hunter green, but...” I rub the back of my neck with a soft chuckle. “It seems I’ve gotten ahead of myself.”
I drop my hand, focusing on Vivian’s expressive eyes. “Vivian Hutchinson, would you do me the honor of accompanying me to the Wilks Beach Regency Ball?”
My sternum burns with the desire to promise more, but I don’t want to do that without being certain that I’m here to stay.
I expect Vivian to give me that smile of hers, maybe tease me with a coy reply, so when she jumps and wraps her legs around my waist, I’m almost too slow to catch her.
Almost. My palms settle under her thighs as Vivian’s lips crash to mine, her fingers greedy on my jaw.
It’s an incendiary continuation of last night.
Fire burns down my spine until the soles of my feet sting.
I groan into her mouth as her fingers burrow through my hair.
A kaleidoscope flashes behind my closed eyes as her fingers twist the strands, slight pain chasing the pleasure.
I barely have time to adjust to the new sensation before Vivian’s lips come over the edge of my jaw, below my ear.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt so possessed in my life, so helplessly at a woman’s mercy.
Whatever Vivian wants from me, I’ll give it to her and ask if she needs more.
Her lips return to mine, and Vivian uses her firm grip on my hair to slow the pace. She’s almost teasing me now. Each time our lips separate, I can feel her smile.
“Set me down, Finn.”
The gentle command is in exact opposition to everything I want, but I find myself complying anyway.
My hands sliding to hold her soft waist is a small consolation.
Vivian takes her time righting my hair with languid caresses.
My eyelashes flutter, fighting to stay open.
The only thing keeping me from closing them is how breathtaking Vivian looks like this, moving with assured confidence, taking what she wants.
“I was just curious.”
An entertained puff of breath escapes me. “Were you doubting my ability to carry you, gorgeous?”
“No.” Her eyes flick to mine, and a cloud passes over them before she focuses on her feet. “Maybe.”
Vivian is many things: mind-bendingly beautiful, delightfully quirky, professionally proficient. But one thing she’s not…or at least one thing she’s not with me …is shy.
I use a knuckle to gently lift her chin. “I don’t doubt your ability to do anything. Trust that I’m just as capable.”
The way Vivian surveys me, accepting my words after a few beats, is unexpectedly intoxicating.
Her small nod and ghost of a smile make my legs tremble slightly.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt for a woman the way I do about Vivian.
It’s simultaneously the best sensation I’ve ever experienced and terrifying beyond comprehension.
My thoughts start to spin out of control, but then Vivian’s grin deepens, drawing my attention.
“I just realized I haven’t answered your question.”
I smirk, slipping from the heartfelt back into flirty territory. “Don’t worry, gorgeous. I got the message loud and clear.”
Vivian’s giggle lights up the space between us, and my heart beats double-time when she rests her fingers on my chest with a mischievous smile. “I’ll go with you…on one condition.”