Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Finch
Even with all of my dating conquests, I’d never had a gorgeous woman saunter over and ask to pretend to be on a date before . . . but in this instance, I was certainly up for the challenge.
She tasted like strawberries and rum and, okay fine, maybe I got a little bit carried away tasting her before her meathead ex-boyfriend wandered over, clearing his throat. Damn could she kiss—soft, pillowy lips that enveloped mine with a kind of desperation. She kissed me frantically, passionately, like I was her only tether and she was drifting out to sea. But this wasn’t the “I want you so bad” kind of frenzy I was used to. This was the “I’m about to have a panic attack because my ex is here” kind of frenzy, and I was having a really hard time remembering that, especially when she was practically climbing into my lap.
I wondered if she was queer. She was obviously single . . . Not now, Finch! You’re supposed to be helping her, not hitting on her, for fuck’s sake.
When we finally pulled apart, the stunning stranger looked at me with shocked eyes and swollen lips and I gave her a playful wink. It wasn't the first time a straight girl had used me to get revenge on an ex, and honestly, when they looked like her, I really didn’t mind.
"Frankie, hey!" the weasel-looking man said.
I appraised him up and down with a tight smile—one that made men like him uneasy. I knew his type well, saw them every summer: rich, entitled, arrogant. He wore pristine white sneakers and a polo shirt, making him look like he'd stepped straight off the golf course. The girl who was with him seemed wildly age inappropriate even by my standards. She was barely wearing a napkin's worth of metallic fabric and heels that made her wobble like a newborn giraffe.
"Jake, hi!" my mystery woman—Frankie—said, way too enthusiastically.
She was like a spooked gazelle about to run headfirst into a fence. I’d seen that look many times before, albeit usually from a hoofed mammal and not a beautiful stranger. She needed to calm down before she bolted. I slung my arm around Frankie’s waist and tugged her the rest of the way off her barstool to stand next to me as I rose and shook Jake's hand, squeezing it tight enough that he grimaced.
Frankie’s voice was still tinged with panic as she said, “Jake, this is?—”
"Goldfinch," I offered. "Yes, that's my birth name, unusual I know." I cut off the inevitable response. Men really thought they were so funny. "Nice to meet you, James. Is this your . . . daughter?”
Frankie spluttered out a cough beside me while Jake released an uncomfortable laugh.
"No, no,” he said with a strained chuckle. "This is my fiancée, Olivia."
Oh, this motherfucker was a real piece of work. I could tell the word fiancée landed like a punch on Frankie’s face. How long had they been split up before he’d gotten engaged to someone else?
I gave Frankie a reassuring squeeze as I said, "Congratulations!" I clapped Jake on the shoulder. Hard. I hoped it would leave a bruise. “Well, you two enjoy your dinner. This stunning woman and I have tickets to a show tonight.” I kissed the back of Frankie’s hand and was rewarded by her attention snagging on me instead of her shitbag ex. “Lovely to meet you, Olivia," I said, giving the girl my patented wink that made everyone blush. "John."
"It's Jake," the bastard said, trying to sound playful but clearly offended.
I looked at Frankie. "Babe," I said, running an adoring hand down her back. "I could've sworn you said John. Sorry, she's only mentioned you briefly. We've been a bit swept up in a whirlwind romance." I kissed the side of her head. "When you know, you know, eh, James?"
"Jake," he said, turning bright red while his fiancée crooned at how adorable Frankie and I were together.
Frankie could barely manage a smile. She was an absolute deer in the headlights, and I needed to get her out of there immediately.
"Ciao, you two," I said with another panty-dropping grin. "You take care of each other."
I steered Frankie away and heard Olivia lean into Jake and say, “They are so cute together, don’t you think?”
Jake muttered a barely audible reply back. Good.
I walked Frankie around the corner and down an alleyway out of view of the large bay windows. She dropped her hands to her knees, taking in deep sips of air.
I definitely did not use that opportunity to look at her heaving breasts peeking from the neckline of her blouse. This Frankie person was an absolute goddess of curves. Those hips, those thighs . There was absolutely no way a toolbag like Jake knew what to do with a woman like her.
"I think I'm going to throw up.” Frankie panted, and I quickly launched back into veterinarian mode.
I rubbed a soothing hand down her back. "Breathe. Breathe." I spoke in the same soft tone I used on all my animals. "You're okay."
She took a few more breaths before nodding and leaning her head back against the wall.
"No offense, but that guy seemed awful. I think you dodged a bullet there."
"He's the love of my life.” She groaned.
"Oof." I grimaced. "Maybe you need to find a better love of your life, Goldilocks.”
“Goldilocks?”
“You know, find someone who’s just right.”
“That’s Jake,” she said, shaking her head. “He's really a good person under all of that bravado. He just hides it."
He hides it really fucking well then , I thought, but I knew better than to reason with the newly heartbroken.
I continued my slow circles across her back. “How long ago did you guys break up?"
"Two weeks.”
I let out a long whistle.
"Do you think they were?—”
"Yep," I cut her off. "They were definitely together while you were together."
She sniffed. And I decided, fuck it. I spun her away from the wall and pulled her into a tight hug. She dropped her head into my shoulder and sobbed as I held her tighter. Sweeping one hand down her back, the other twined into her hair, holding her to me. She came apart in my arms, the dam of emotions she’d been battling to keep in finally broken.
“You’re okay, you’re okay,” I assured her. “It’s all going to be okay.”
“You don’t know that,” she cried.
“I’ve only known you for a minute and somehow I really do,” I said. Someone as beautiful and adorable as her would find another person in a heartbeat. But she didn’t need to hear that right now so I simply said, “I promise.”
I tried really hard not to think how good she felt pressed up against me. I was trying to reform my partying ways and this girl was in a whole heap of drama—and that's saying something coming from someone who worked with wild animals for a living.
"Thank you," she croaked, finally releasing me. "You saved me."
“Don’t mention it. I have a thing for damsels in distress anyway,” I joked, but she didn’t laugh. “You going to be okay?" I asked. "Do you want me to walk you home or anything?”
She pointed straight up to the towering building above us.
"I'm staying in the hotel," she said. She wiped under her eyes, sweeping her dripping mascara up into a dramatic wing. She lifted on her tiptoes and kissed my cheek, making my skin tingle in the wake of her touch. “Thank you, Goldfinch, for rescuing me in there."
I liked the way she said my name, so reverent and appreciative. I smiled and gave her a salute. "It was an adventure knowing you, Frankie," I said. "Good luck with everything.”
She offered me one last sad smile, and I had the overwhelming urge to turn around and kiss her until the expression morphed into a better one. Instead, I turned to the strip of restaurants and bars along the wharf and pulled out my phone to message my still-waiting Tinder date.