Chapter 14 #2
My doorbell rings and I jump as the sounds rips me away from my thoughts. I stand up and smooth out my dress before answering the door.
Finn stands on my doorstep in a crisp, light blue button-down shirt and brown pants.
In his hands is a large bouquet of flowers—an assortment of red and green.
He looks really nervous; foot tapping on the ground, avoiding eye contact for too long.
When his eyes do find mine, a lopsided smile spreads across his face.
His gaze travels downwards at a leisurely pace, not bothering to hide any and all interest as he skates over my shoulder blades, my chest, my breasts, hips. When he sees my bare legs, he groans.
“God, Cherry.”
I fold my arms. “Problem?”
“Fuck no. Not unless you looking sensational is a problem.”
Oh.
I open my mouth to answer but he puts out a hand, stopping me.
“No arguing. Not tonight.”
He holds out the flowers and without a word, I take them from him. I motion for him to follow me inside as I head into the kitchen to find a vase.
“I’m sorry they aren’t fake flowers,” he says as he follows me. “I thought it’d be nice to get you real ones from time to time. I’ll make sure to remove them before they die so you don’t have to see it.”
Cool it, heart. Now is not the time, and this is not the man.
“Thank you,” I say, words lost to me. “This is sweet.”
He shrugs as if what he’s done is the bare minimum.
After I’ve put the flowers in water, I turn to see him kneeling down, scratching behind Ollie’s ears.
“He doesn’t normally like people, you know.” I don’t know why I tell him that.
Finn smiles down at my cat like he’s looking down at his own child. “I’m honored.”
Ollie meows as if to say, “You should be.”
“I’m ready to go when you are,” I tell Finn, no longer capable of watching this really sweet moment in front of me.
He nods as he stands up, sending one last smile to Ollie before looking over at me.
“After you, sweetheart.”
I head out the door and can feel his warmth on my back as he trails behind me, closing the door and locking it behind us. I reach as far as the end of the path when I stop, feeling the lack of heat and the loss of Finn’s scent.
I turn to see him frozen on my doorstep, watching me like some kind of predator. His eyes are firmly planted on what is now the side of my ass and I smirk and put all my weight onto one leg.
“Like what you see, Southwick?” I tilt my head in a silent taunt.
It seems to snap him out of his daze, and he stalks toward me, a man on a mission.
He’s all hard lines and deep frowns until he reaches me, and then it all changes.
His expression softens, his hand gentle as it tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.
He bends down and steals my breath as he leaves a lingering kiss on my cheek, leaving it glowing bright red.
He pulls away enough to whisper, “Always do, Michaels.”
It’s a good thing he takes my hand and leads me the rest of the way to the car, because otherwise I’d be stuck in place just like he was.
God, I might actually … like this man?
Finn opens the passenger door for me and I hop in silently, lost in thought due to the mere possibility of seeing my best friend’s brother as anything other than annoying.
As soon as he gets in, we head off, to where exactly I’m not sure.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
He shrugs off my question with a smile and I appreciate the action as it pulls me back to a headspace where I find Finley to be a major inconvenience to my life.
He flicks his gaze over to me before going back to the road. He chuckles softly. “Not the Locke, I can tell you that much.”
“No. No, you made that very clear last week.”
“Problem, Cherry?” Finn smiles.
“I just don’t understand what was wrong with it?”
Finn shrugs. “I don’t know. When I take a woman on a date, I prefer to take them to places that show them that I put thought into it.
I want them to know that they are worth the time and the effort it takes to plan a date.
” He turns to me after putting the car in park.
“I want you to see that you’re worth it. ”
Oh.
The most I can do is nod and wait for Finn to open the passenger door. Lately, he’s been telling me off if I so much as lift my hand to reach for the handle.
He holds out his hand to me and I place mine in his, using it for support as I climb out of the car and onto the sidewalk. We’re a couple of roads away from Main Street before Finn plants a chaste kiss on the back of it and lets go of my hand.
This man is seriously pulling out all of the stops. I just wish I knew if this was all part of the bet, or some secret new agenda I’m not aware of.
I follow him to a small restaurant called Thompson’s, a quaint little cottage-esque building with flowers covering the archway as you enter and exposed brick all over the front.
“The food here is amazing,” Finn says as he opens the door for me. “Mickey really is a genius. He did the food for your birthday.”
The minute we step inside, all eyes turn to us. Whispers float through the air as customers point in a way that is so far from subtle. I want to shrink behind Finn, but he holds me in place with a firm hand around my waist.
“Finn, my main man!” A handsome guy with blond curly hair strides over to us from what I’m assuming is the kitchens, if the chef’s uniform he has on is any indication.
“Mickey,” Finn smiles, stepping into the chef’s arms to give him a manly hug involving two heavy slaps to the back. “How are you?”
“Amazing! Things are back up and running thanks to you.”
A pink tinge dusts Finn’s neck and cheeks. “Happy to help.”
He steps back to stand behind me, his hand finding its way back to my waist. “I don’t think you’ve met my girlfriend. This is Oakleigh. Cherry, this is Mickey, the head chef here.”
Mickey directs his smile at me, a genuine boyish smile that forces my lips to stretch into a similar one. He holds his hand out to me. “We haven’t met, but rest assured, I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“All bad, I hope,” I jest.
“Oh, definitely. Finn here wouldn’t shut up about you when he was fixing up the kitchen. Kept saying how you were the—what was it, Finn?—the most annoying yet perfect woman you’d ever met?”
I whip my head to look at my fake boyfriend, shock stilting the regular beats of my heart. “You said perfect?”
His blush deepens. “I may have said something along those lines.”
“You’ve got yourself a good one here, Oakleigh,” Mickey continues, seemingly oblivious to my surprise.
“I’m inclined to believe you,” I reply, hoping that the words sound lighthearted.
Mickey’s blue eyes lighten as his smile deepens.
“I saw the reservation on the system and saved you the best table.” He motions toward a table in the middle of the far wall, the nearby fireplace bathing it in warm light and heat.
Even though it’s the middle of summer, there is a chill in this restaurant, so I’m so grateful for the seating placement.
The entire setup looks so romantic—a single red rose in a vase in the center, seats adjacent to one another, low lighting giving that little extra bit of privacy.
In any other situation, I would be filled with excitement and anticipation, but right now, as I sit down in the seat that Finn pulls out for me—closest to the fire—I feel nothing but consternation and confusion.
Being alone with Finn lately has been an experience, to be sure, sometimes good, sometimes my worst nightmare, but this kind of atmosphere makes me think of when he caught me eavesdropping that first night he stayed round.
The light was low just like this, the tension pulling us closer as I feel it might tonight.
I feel a need to destroy the moment, somehow, but I know that I can’t. Not when we’re surrounded by some of Eaglewood’s residents, who will easily be spreading this around town as soon as possible.
For the first five minutes, we’re quiet—me trying to grow accustomed to this new atmosphere that surrounds us, and Finn finding newfound interest in his napkin.
I’m not just trying to acclimatize to the tingle of romance that burns around us like the candles along the walls, but also this familiar ghost of something between Finn and me; something that’s old and unresolved. It tickles the bare skin of my arms making me shiver.
“You cold?” Finn asks.
“A little,” I reply, my white lie feeling considerably better on my tongue than the truth.
Without even a moment’s hesitation, Finn’s up on his feet, shucking his shirt off of his shoulders.
I hold up a hand to stop him. “Oh, you really don’t need to do tha—”
“Don’t be silly, Cherry.” He slips the shirt off completely, leaving him the perfect distraction to wrap it over my own shoulders.
Hello, forearms.
I watch, entranced as the muscles along Finn’s arms flex and strain as he moves. I follow every movement like I’m being hypnotized, completely locked on the way his tee hugs the curves of his biceps, emphasizing just how big Finn really is. I’m pretty sure they call Finn’s body type a sleeper body.
My breath hitches as he reaches up to scratch the back of his neck.
“You know, I’m pretty sure there’s a saying or two about moments like this.”
I snap out of my daze to find a smirking Finn watching me.
“What?”
He huffs out a quiet chuckle. “Something about taking a picture?”
That snaps me out completely. “Oh, shut up.”
“You’re allowed to stare, Cherry. If it pleases you, then stare all you want. It is technically all yours, after all.”
As our starters are placed in front of us by the waiter, my focus drifts to Finn’s subtle implication. Or, at least what I think was a subtle implication.
Intimacy.
It wasn’t there in Finn’s words per se, more in his tone, the way he spoke slowly, caressing me with his words letting me know that he really is well and truly mine while we’re in this situation.