CHAPTER 76
Emma
“Not much of a house?” I have to laugh at how Finn described this paradise.
We anchored the boat at a marina in a quiet, sparsely populated area of Catalina.
We took a dinghy onto shore. Finn let me drive it after I showed some interest, and I have to admit that I loved the feeling.
It’s the last thing I expected to ever hear myself say, but I think I could really get used to sailing.
Once the dinghy was secured on shore, we walked up a sandy path to the house.
The beautiful beach cottage is all white with flower boxes under the gigantic windows. The sand path ends at a stone walkway that leads to a wide planked porch holding two cushioned Adirondak chairs and a side table.
The inside is just as charming. It’s casual with comfy furniture and the most shockingly perfect view I’ve ever seen.
An entire wardrobe in my size—shorts, shirts, sundresses, pants, and blouses—is waiting for me in the master bedroom.
I guess this is what Finn meant when he told me I didn’t need to pack anything.
The bathroom is piled with clean towels and fine French toiletries. The kitchen is stocked.
Laid out on the fluffy king-sized bed is something I’ve never seen in person. It’s a stunning transparent negligee made of silk and lace in a soft peach hue. I pick it up and let the exquisitely soft fabric slide on my hands. “Oh.”
“You like?” Finn is right behind me.
“It’s gorgeous. It’s all gorgeous. Thank you.”
We make it through the house and out to the terrace with a vine-covered pergola and a long table for meals with a view. The sound of waves crashing on shore reaches us and puts me in a meditative state.
I never want to leave.
“It’s not all that big, but it’s a nice getaway,” Finn says. “I’ve hit my head on the doorframes more than a few times.”
I wrap my arms around him, looking up into his face. “Don’t blame the house for that. You’re freakishly tall, remember.”
“I’m a full inch shorter than Special K.”
“And that means what exactly? That you’re a slightly shorter giant?”
He shrugs. “I stopped measuring after I got to six-foot-four. I don’t like to brag.”
I slide my hand between us and try to wrap my fingers around the huge bulge in his khaki shorts. “Did you stop measuring here, too?”
He moans and pushes against my hand. “That little bugger has been growing since I met you.”
“Little bugger?” I can’t help myself—I howl with laughter, and Finn joins in, picking me up off the ground and spinning me around cradled in his arms.
“You got a better name?”
“Anything’s better than that.”
Finn slows his spin, and I touch my lips to his. It’s a soft and tender kiss, slow. It’s a kiss between lovers who are not in any hurry. Nowhere to be. No one to take care of. Nothing to do.
Except enjoy one another.
I rake my fingers through Finn’s hair and leave kisses all over his scratchy jawline, his throat, his cheeks and eyelids.
I’m telling him that I love him without saying the words.
I’m telling him that he’s everything to me.
That I am allowing myself to believe that this is real, and that this thing blossoming between us has a chance of working.
I wonder how long I can keep my mouth shut, because all I want to do is shout out to the whole world that I love him.
“I want to make you happy, Finn,” I whisper.
“You already do, baby.”
“Always tell me what you need. I can’t give it to you unless I know what it is.”
He leans his head back enough to look me square in the eye. I see a question in his expression. “The same goes for you, my beautiful Emma. Never, ever hide from me.”
I stroke the side of his face and press my lips to his again. I will never get tired of this man, the way he kisses, how he smells and feels, how I melt into his touch.
He’s carrying me to the bed.
He’s carrying me to the bed!
“Yessss!” I hang onto his neck with one arm and let the other dangle free, my head flung back and my hair swinging. “Take me to your bed, Finlay MacLaine!”
He chuckles. “You’ll be hollerin’ a lot this weekend, if all goes according to plan.”
“You’re not going to shush me?”
“No need.” He lays me on the dreamy bed, then hovers over me, his fists pressing into the mattress. “The ocean drowns out damn near everything.”
Oh, that smile. That devilish, sexy grin zaps the air right out of my lungs.
Finn leaves me breathless.
I bring my arms around his neck and pull him into me.
If there’s nowhere to be except where you are, time doesn’t matter all that much.
That’s how I feel right now, walking hand in hand with Finn on the beach beyond the cottage. The stars are even more spectacular here than at the ranch, and it’s pure magic to watch moonlight be reflected in the black mirror of the ocean.
I’ve finally convinced Finn I’m not joking, that I’ve never seen a body of water bigger than Lake Tahoe and I’ve never walked on beach sand before—not counting the little slice of beach by his pool. This opens up a whole conversation about the places I dream of seeing, locations on my bucket list.
He’s surprised that it’s such a long list, which is understandable. He knows I just have my GED. But I explain how I read everything I could get my hands on in the public library as a kid, and was a big fan of travel stories and world history.
“But there’s only one place at the top,” I tell him.
“Paris.”
I stop in my tracks to stare up at him. His smile is bright white in the moonlight. “How did you know?”
“I’ve been eating your French cooking for a while now, and I know all about your online boyfriend.”
“My online—?”
“Pierre La Croix.”
“Ha!” I smile up at him. “I guess being in love with a cybersecurity expert means you can’t hide your YouTube—”
I freeze. I can’t move. Can’t breathe. I just said it.
I just said the words.
Out loud.
Finn tips his head. “Are you in love with me, Emma?”
My heart is stuck in my throat. I can’t swallow. My fingers have gone numb. My lips part, but no sound escapes. I can’t run. There’s nowhere to go. Would I run into the surf? Down the beach? Back to the cottage?
Finn reaches down and tucks a strand of loose hair behind my ear. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time. If I’m honest, I’ve loved you since the first moment I laid eyes on you. I love you, my sweet, beautiful Emma.”
The strangest sound escapes my mouth. It’s half scream and half laugh—but it’s one-hundred-percent surprise.
Finn spins around and turns his back to me. “Hop on?”
He doesn’t have to ask me twice. I jump on his back, and I’m treated to a rather bumpy jog back to the cottage, and by the time we reach the front door, I’m out of breath from laughing.
I’m smiling so hard that my face hurts.
He loves me.