Chapter Eight #4
Then again, it didn’t matter what they were doing. He was constantly thinking about getting her out of her clothes.
He kept his hands to himself for as long as he could. Objectively, it wasn’t long at all. It only took a few minutes to clear off the table and load the dishwasher.
As he shut the dishwasher door, she was wiping the last counter, the one by the sink. All he had to do was take one step in her direction.
They kissed. A long, slow, sweet, perfect kiss. Those slim hands of hers slid up over his chest to link around his neck and she gave him a tender moan of pleasure as her tongue tangled with his. He held her close, loving the feel of her body pressed against him.
Eventually, she pulled back. Gazing up at him through those unforgettable eyes, she said, “I honestly can’t stay all that long.” Her no-nonsense tone only made him want to kiss her some more.
So he did.
Deep, endless kisses. Short, sweet, tender ones. Wet kisses, playful kisses. Kisses that felt to him like promises—the kind he feared she wasn’t ready to hear or make or keep.
He was careful. He didn’t push. She was the one who took his hand and led him to his bedroom. The kittens failed to follow. They were still busy chasing the jingle ball. He smiled against her lips as he shut the bedroom door with a nudge of his heel.
She unbuttoned his shirt as he walked her backward to the bed. Laughing, she pushed the shirt off his shoulders. “I mean, I can stay a little while…”
“I am so glad to hear that.” And then he kissed her again.
One kiss became another. They helped each other out of their clothes, dropping them to the bedside rug as they peeled them off. She was the one who paused to pull back the covers.
“Come down here,” she whispered, catching his arm.
He went. They fell onto the white sheets together.
Happiness, he thought. This is happiness. Holding Kenzie. Kissing her. The happiness he’d known all those years ago. The happiness he’d left behind because of the terrible loss they’d suffered. Because at that time moving on had seemed more important than their young, wounded love.
He knew better now. He knew what really mattered. And this time, he wouldn’t be throwing his happiness away.
“What is it?” She captured his face between her soft hands and looked up at him, frowning. “What’s the matter?”
He put on a grin. “Not a thing. In fact, right now every-thing is pretty much perfect.”
And he kissed her again, a long kiss, slow and sweet.
* * *
The doorbell rang.
Finn opened his eyes to the beautiful sight of Kenzie sound asleep on the other pillow. The room was dim, but the beginnings of daylight slipped through on either side of the heavy bedroom curtains. It was enough light to see by and he loved what he saw.
Kenzie slept curled on her side, facing him. He could feel the warmth of her, hear her soft, even breathing, make out the shape of her body beneath the blankets.
She was going to be freaked when she woke up. She’d meant to leave last night but he’d kept convincing her to stay.
“Just a little longer,” he’d whispered at around 10:00 p.m. It couldn’t have been much later that they both fell asleep.
He probably should be feeling guilty that he’d kept her with him overnight. But in fact, he was mighty pleased at the way things had turned out.
The doorbell rang again.
Kenzie stirred. “What’s going on?” she asked sleepily. “What time is it?”
He rolled over to grab his phone from the nightstand. “Six ten a.m.” He reached out and switched on the light.
She sat up with a gasp. “I stayed the night.”
“And I’m glad you did—and I know, I know. You have to go.” He pushed back the covers and swung his feet to the floor as the doorbell chimed for third time.
“Who’s that?” she demanded.
He bent close and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Not a clue. I’ll go find out, though.”
“And I’ll get dressed and get moving.” She blinked up at him owlishly. He just had to kiss her again. So he did, on that sweet mouth this time.
Gently, she pushed him away, then shoved her tangled hair back off her face and swung her bare legs to the floor. She wore nothing but a tiny frown. He looked her up and down slowly, taking in every lush, rounded inch.
“Finn?”
“Hmm?”
“The door?”
“Right…” He snatched his jeans off the floor, then pulled them on as she rose and started grabbing her own clothes. “Listen,” he said, “you can leave the cats here. We’ll hang out for a while and then I’ll take them to your place.”
She shot him a big, grateful smile. “They’ll like that. Thanks.”
“Anytime.”
The doorbell jangled again—and then again. “Sheesh,” she said. “Someone’s impatient.”
“They sure are.”
“You think it’s something serious?”
“Who knows?” He pulled open the bedroom door and found Tom and Ed sitting there, staring up at him. “Mornin’, guys.” He scooped them up, one in either hand. They purred in unison as he carried them with him to the front door.
When he got there, he set down the cats. They bounded off toward the kitchen. As the doorbell chimed again, he pulled the door wide.
His father stood on the other side. “It’s about damn time,” Finn Sr. said.