15. Finn
“Iparked down the block just in case,” Finn announced as he guided her through a small patch of trees and bushes to his car.
Lucie’s hand was warm in his. So small and delicate. Finn noticed it made her smile each time his thumb rubbed against her knuckles; he was content to do it the whole night, if it made her light up like that.
He felt bad about being late, but he’d done some recon over the week, found her father’s favorite bar, and stopped by before their date.
“Every hour,” Finn explained to the waitress. “On the hour.” Then he passed her a wad of cash.
Finn paid for food to be brought to her father and his buddies all night. The rest of the money was for the server’s tip. He’d hate to serve that pig; Betty deserved a nice vacation after that.
The next thing he did was purely for the love of the game.
The small red rotor arm from her father’s prized car was currently in his pocket. The car would never start without it.
Finn staked out the bar in the bushes until the loser had his first drink. After that, it was simple. The rotor arm would make it back to the car later, but he wasn’t taking any chances of Lucie getting caught.
“So,” Lucie whispered, “what’s the plan at the beach?” He’d never seen anything so bright in his life. Her smile could have powered the Way Station.
“I have a couple of surprises for you, but I thought it would be fun to build a sandcastle first. I also promised I’d take you surfing, so I brought us some beginner boards,” he said, guiding her away from a root sticking out of the ground.
Lucie stopped in her tracks. “I . . . I don’t know how to swim.”
“I used to teach lessons in Florida to kids. I can teach you, too,” Finn said, not worried about it.
“I don’t want to bother you. I can watch from the shore. Don’t worry, I brought a book,” Lucie said, with a quick smile.
Damn, the man who made her feel this way. Maybe he should have asked the waitress to slip rat poison into his nachos.
“Do you trust me?” Finn asked.
“More than anyone,” she confirmed.
The confession knocked the air out of him. There was nothing he would do to break that trust. It was more precious than gold.
“You are not a bother to me. Teaching you something I think you’ll love isn’t putting me out. I’m happy to take the time to teach you. You can ask all the questions you’d like, and if at any time you don’t feel comfortable, you call it, and we’ll get out. Okay?”
It might have been the moonlight, but he swore he saw tears brimming in her eyes.
“Pinkie promise?” Lucie wondered, holding out her pinkie to him.
He interlocked his pinkie with hers.
“I pinkie promise,” he said, then brought their hands up to their mouth and kissed his hand, sealing it. Lucie copied him, kissing the back of her own hand.
Heat flushed her cheeks.
“Those are legally binding, so watch out,” Lucie giggled, pulling back, and continued down the path.
On the other side of the trees Gypsy was parked on the side of the road right where he left it, two soft-top boards strapped to the roof.
Lucie practically skipped the rest of the short distance to the car, pulling him to go faster.
“Got Gypsy all gassed up and some snacks in the front for our road trip,” he admitted, lovingly tapping the hood of his car like a puppy.
She giggled. “You named your car?”
Finn shrugged, the tips of his ears turning red.
“I get it,” she stammered. “I named my favorite paintbrush. Sir Bristlesworth.” She shrugged as if it was no big deal, when in reality it looked like she kind of wanted to die. “In my defense, I named him when I was eight.”
Finn laughed. “That’s cute.” And for a second, his gaze lingered on her again. He couldn’t help it; she was so damn beautiful.
Focus. They were burning moonlight.
He held out his hand again, opened the passenger door, and helped her climb into the Jeep.
Once she was sitting down, he slipped the strap of her bag off her shoulder and set it down carefully next to her feet.
He’d spied the can of pepper spray in there and wanted her to have it close so she felt safe.
“Can I?” he said, nodding to the seatbelt.
Lucie nodded.
“Words. I need your words, sweetheart,” he said softly. What was wrong with him? It was just a simple seatbelt. He’d been this close to other women. But Lucie was completely different from them. He felt like a fumbling middle schooler asking his crush out to the eighth-grade formal.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Slowly and carefully, he leaned forward, close enough to smell her lavender and wildflower shampoo. He drew the seatbelt gently across her, his hands accidentally grazing her hip.
“Thank you,” Lucie said when the seatbelt clicked into place.
Finn lifted his head and automatically forgot how to speak.
They were closer than either of them realized. Close enough that he could count the freckles dusting her nose. Lucie’s eyes flicked down—just for a heartbeat—to his parted lips.
Finn swallowed.
He wouldn’t let their first kiss happen in a car. She deserved better than that. Finn forced himself to ease back.
He closed the door and ran a hand over his stubble.
Yeah, the night was already better than he had planned.