Chapter Five Finn
It’s the scream that wakes me up. We get so many thunderstorms that they don’t wake me up anymore.
Marsha stands at the foot of my bed with her back arched and her fur standing on end.
She’s used to thunder, fox screams, and other nature noises.
She knows she’s safe in her home. I’ll protect her. But this new noise has her worried.
The sobs are next, and I slam out of bed, jumping to my feet and tearing into the hallway. They don’t sound like normal “I’m sad I didn’t get married today” tears, they sound like the tortured sobs of someone trapped in a nightmare.
“Shelby?” I tap lightly on her door. The only response is more sobbing.
A flash of lightning illuminates the hallway and Marsha sitting next to me, looking up at me with concern.
The clap of thunder booms loudly enough I feel it in my bones.
Shelby screams again, and I fling open her door.
She’s sitting upright in her bed, her forehead resting on her knees, which are drawn up to her chest. She’s clamped her hands over her ears.
I rush to her side and touch her shoulder gently, whispering her name. Her green eyes are vacant when they turn to me. She whimpers when a low roll of thunder sounds across the marsh.
“Mrww,” Marsha says, jumping onto the bed and butting Shelby’s arm with her head.
“Are you okay?” I sit on the edge of the mattress and rub her back as sobs wrack her body.
“It’s just a storm. You’re safe.” She shocks me by crawling into my lap and clinging to me like a baby koala.
I wrap my arms around her and hold her as she soaks my chest with her sobs.
My shushing sounds seem to comfort her, but it could be the storm subsiding.
I can’t resist pressing a light kiss to the crown of her head where my cheek rests.
“Storm’s passed,” I murmur near her ear. “Let’s get you back under the covers, okay?”
“No,” she moans, clinging to me more tightly. “Don’t leave me. Stay.”
I’m too tall and too broad to sleep in this bed. “Shelby, you don’t know what you’re saying. You’re having a nightmare.”
She pulls back slightly and looks up at me. In the dim moonlight now shining through the clouds, I see awareness in her eyes. “Finn, I don’t want to be alone. I know what I’m saying. Please hold me. That’s all I need tonight.”
My heart shatters, and the tiny shards pierce me everywhere all at once. I can’t leave her alone tonight. I release a shuddering breath. Can she feel how hard my heart is beating?
“Okay, but can we go to my room? I’m too big for this bed.”
“I don’t care where we are. Please don’t leave me alone tonight.”
Standing with Shelby cradled in my arms, I stride out of her room with Marsha on my heels. I tell Alexa to turn on my nightstand lamp as I place Shelby on my bed.
I squat down beside her so we’re face-to-face.
“Shelby, do you know where you are? Do you know who I am?”
She gives a combination sniffle-laugh, and I reach for a tissue from the box on my nightstand, handing it to her.
“Thanks.” She wipes her nose and balls the tissue in her hand.
“Finn, I know I’m at your house and I know who you are.
We met a few years ago. We met again at the wildlife refuge.
This was supposed to be my wedding night.
I hate thunderstorms. They scare me. I don’t want to be needy or take advantage of your kindness, but I need to not be alone right now, and I need some comfort. ”
Tears glisten in her mossy green eyes. “Please help me.”
Like I could deny her anything. “Okay. Do you need anything? Warm milk? Cocoa? Whiskey?”
Tears fill her eyes again and silently fall down her cheeks.
“One of the clearest memories I have of my mother is how she’d make me warm milk when I couldn’t sleep.
That’s why I hate thunderstorms. They died in a small plane crash, and it was storming when I was told.
I can handle them during the day or if I know it’s happening at night, but being woken from a sound sleep like that triggered me. I’m sorry for being such a ninny.”
I sit on the mattress next to her and take her in my arms again.
This time, it may be for my own comfort because what she’s shared has my chest aching.
I can see little girl Shelby so clearly.
Can see her face pale with shock when she hears the horrible news about her parents.
Can hear her cries of grief punctuated by claps of thunder and bolts of lightning. I’d have nightmares too.
“Oh, Shelby, you’re not a ninny. Lots of people hate storms, even if they don’t have trauma associated with them.” I nuzzle the crown of her head. Maybe it’s time for me to admit the truth.
I should. “What I hate most are the nor’easters that hit here.
I don’t like all the wind and rain, especially living in this cottage.
I feel like a sitting duck. When one hits, Marsha and I volunteer at refuge headquarters and hunker down until it passes.
I know HQ is built sturdily, and that way, I can go out once the storm passes to evaluate any damage.
I have a camp bed and sleeping bag stashed in my office and extra stuff for Marsha so we’re cozy there.
With the cement walls and industrial windows, I feel safer there. ”
“Really?” Shelby lifts her head from my chest. “You get scared too?”
I rub my thumb up and down her arm but stop when goosebumps appear. “I do. You’re breaking out in goosebumps. Let’s get you under the covers.” I release her from my embrace and stand so she can get settled in bed.
“They weren’t from the cold,” she murmurs.
“Oh.” Oh. Not only is the woman I’m attracted to spending the night in my bed, lying next to me all night long, but she just admitted to being attracted to me too.
This is not good. I mean, it’s awesome. But nothing can happen.
She’s in a vulnerable state between her nightmare and the wedding that didn’t happen.
No matter how much she claims to be fine and better off not getting married, she must possess some residual feelings.
She planned on having that man’s children and vowing to be with him until they were parted by death.
Once the anger and hurt dissipate, I’m sure she’ll have things to work through.
I don’t want to be a rebound or something she regrets.
“Can I get you anything? Would having the TV on help?” I hand her the remote to the TV on top of the dresser in the corner. The sports teams I like are all on the West Coast and usually have games that start late for me here now that I’m on the East Coast, so I watch in bed.
“I’m okay. If there’s something you want to watch, go ahead, it won’t bother me.”
She scoots over to the far side of the bed. I’ve never had anyone else in this bed. I’m glad the first person to share it with me is Shelby.
“Do you want me to get you warm milk? Like your mom...” I swallow a lump in my throat. “It’s not a problem.”
“Thank you. Just water. My throat is a little scratchy.”
“I’ll be right back, get comfortable.”
It’s not until the cool air of the open refrigerator door hits me that I realize I’m only in my black boxer briefs.
I was so concerned about Shelby, I didn’t think to throw on shorts and a T-shirt.
Do I put them on when I return to the bedroom, or will that be awkward?
Goodness knows waking up next to Shelby with a tent pitched in my briefs will be awkward.
I’ll have to make sure I get out of bed before she wakes up so I can be dressed before facing her.
Maybe she’ll be asleep when I return and I can slip on some clothes.
No such luck. She’s wide awake with Marsha on her lap.
Now I notice what she’s wearing—a thin yellow tank top with white satin trim.
Her breasts are high and firm with her nipples semi-hard.
Her goosebumps weren’t from the cold... Is it the same for her nipples?
Am I affecting Shelby physically like she affects me?
Standing in front of the fridge has helped calm the situation in my briefs, thank goodness.
“Here you go,” I say, handing her a bottle of water.
“Thanks.”
I know I’m blushing, but I decide to just ask.
“I can put on shorts and a T-shirt if that would make you more comfortable. I didn’t think before rushing to you.”
These briefs hide nothing, and if Shelby’s eyes keep traveling up and down my body the way they are now, we’re going to have a situation.
“You’re fine.” Now she’s blushing and coughing. She twists open her water and takes a long sip. “However you’re comfortable is fine with me.”
Am I imagining things, or is her hand trembling slightly as she waves it to gesture up and down my body?
“I’ve already seen the goods. You can’t un-ring that bell.”
She looks at Marsha as if shocked by what she just admitted. My cat shakes her head like she can’t believe it either. Great, they’re teaming up.
“Okay.” I slide under the covers. This is so awkward. I can’t just lie down and fall asleep. I’m too keyed up. Sitting up with my back against the headboard, I pick up the remote control from where it rests on the sheet between us.
“Hey,” I say. “Do you like ice hockey?”
She tilts her head as her eyes widen, and she says with a small chuckle, “Random.”
I scratch the back of my neck. “Do you?”
“I don’t dislike it. I haven’t watched it much, but I have nothing against it. If there’s a game you want to watch, turn it on.”
“Preseason started, and Seattle and Vancouver played tonight. I can turn on the replay.” I open the box of Girl Scout Thin Mints I brought with me and offer her a sleeve.
She takes a couple with a furrowed brow. “I thought these were sold in the winter. How do you have any?”
A chuckle escapes. “They are. I stock up and freeze them so I can ration them through the year.”
She giggles, and the way she bumps me with her shoulder in a buddy way makes my heart flutter in a non-buddy way.
“When you say ‘stock up,’ what are we talking about?” she asks.
“Ten cases.”
She’s quiet for a moment. “How many boxes are in a case?”
“Twelve.”
“Do you buy one hundred twenty boxes of cookies from one girl, or do you spread it out?”
I can’t believe I’m in bed with this woman I haven’t seen in years and it’s not weird.
This feels comfortable. Like how it should be.
What a damn fool I was. All these years, we could have been sharing cookies and more in bed, but I listened to liars, believed them instead of what my heart was telling me.
I threw her away instead of keeping her when I had the chance.
But maybe that’s what had to happen for us to get here.
Bumping shoulders in bed. Bumping...other things?
Nope. Not gonna let my brain or parts farther south go there.
“I have a number of dealers,” I say, bumping her shoulder lightly with mine, mimicking her. “Some of my coworkers have daughters or granddaughters selling, so I buy a case from each of them and then order the remainder from a troop of homeless girls living in a shelter in New York.”
She’s quiet for a moment as she taps the edge of a cookie against her palm. “It would be crazy to say I love you, wouldn’t it?”
My heart skips a beat. I know what I’m feeling, but she can’t be feeling it too. She was going to marry someone else twelve hours ago. Yeah, I want it to be true, but I don’t know if I can trust it.
“As a friend?” I ask.
“I don’t think so. But I know it’s crazy. It’s okay. Turn on the game. Do you play hockey?”
“No,” I say, as I hit the button on the remote to turn on the TV. I’m unsure whether the no is in answer to it being crazy for her to love me or about playing hockey. Maybe both? “I played baseball. Outfield. My brother Ollie plays hockey though. Has a college scholarship for it.”
“Wow, that’s great.”
She’s asleep before the first period is over. I turn off the game and settle under the covers. Somehow during the night, we end up cuddled together with my arms around her and Shelby’s head resting on my shoulder. I wish this was how I could start every morning for the rest of my life.