Lured In (27 page)

Any other time, Finn would have thrown a smart-ass comment back at him, but he didn't because Liam was as serious as Finn had ever seen him.

“It's not that simple, Liam. She and Sam have something going on—don't ask, 'cause I don't know what it is—but it can't be good, because she said it's complicated.”

“Oooh.” Liam actually winced. “Shit, man, that ranks right up there with ‘we need to talk.' ”

“Right?” Finn balled up his napkin, tossed it on his plate, then pushed it to the middle of the table. “And you know what's really stupid? I don't even want to know what it is, because I still have to spend another day out on the boat with that son of a bitch, and if Jess says what I think she's going to say, then…
fuck
. But right now I don't know what the problem is, so I'm just mad, and mad I can handle. Mad I know what to do with.”

Liam nodded slowly, whispering the words Finn was too afraid to say himself. “It's the sad that'll kill you.”

Bunking with Olivia was only going to be marginally better than sacking out on the floor. What Jessie would gain in physical comfort, she'd no doubt lose in mental tranquility, because Olivia had already told her she'd wait up so they could talk.

Great.

So now Jessie was wiping the kitchen down for the third time, hoping if she stayed in the lodge long enough, Olivia would fall asleep. She'd just hung the cloth over the edge of the sink when footsteps sounded on the stairs.

Part of her hoped it was Finn, so she could sit his ass down and talk to him, but the other part hoped it wasn't, because even though she'd spent the whole day trying to get past it, she couldn't. After everything they'd told each other, and everything they'd been to each other, he didn't even give her a chance to explain. Instead, he immediately jumped to the idea that she was about to gut him like his mother did.

She still saw red every time she remembered that look on his face and heard that raw scrape of his voice again. Hells to the no on that one, she wasn't pulling a Maggie, and the fact he'd even think it was enough to make Jessie want to punch him—and she'd never wanted to strike another human being in her whole life.

The footsteps got closer, then there was a thud, a stumble, and a harsh grumble.

“Fuck me.”

Ronan hobbled into the kitchen a second later, still grumbling, dressed in baggy blue sweatpants and a plain white T-shirt.

“D'you fall up the stairs again?” she asked, feeling the first genuine smile of the day.

“Damn things have always been too narrow,” he muttered. “Why are you still up?”

Jessie lifted her shoulder slowly and sighed. “I don't know, just thinking, I guess.”

“Well, if you don't mind me saying, it's rarely a good thing when a woman's up in the middle of the night thinking.” He tipped his head toward the cupboard behind her. “Grab me a glass please. So what's up?”

Jessie handed him a glass but didn't answer him, not for a while anyway.

“Come on.” Without waiting for her to agree or anything, he started shoving her toward the office, then came in behind her and slid the door shut, his voice booming in the confined space. “It's about as much privacy as we're going to get around here.”

“Ro, I don't think—”

“See, that's the problem with you women: You think too much and then you say you don't think.” Shooting her a teasing wink, he slid his bulk up onto the credenza, as Finn had done so many weeks back. “So stop thinking and just talk.”

Should she tell him? No, that was probably a really bad idea. But she couldn't wait and hope everything settled itself, either.

If Ro had pushed her or grown impatient, as she'd expected him to do, she would have clammed right up, but he didn't. He just sat there, waiting her out.

Damn it.

“Okay, look,” she said slowly, testing him out a little. “I'm about to tell you something that's probably going to make you mad—like
really
mad. But I need you to be chill about it, because there's more to it, and that's the part where things go sideways.”

“Is this about you and Finn?”

His question caught her completely off guard, and she didn't know if it was because he'd actually asked it or if it was because he'd asked it so casually.

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“Oh, come on, Jessie, I've never seen two people work so hard at hiding anything in my life. And, besides, I was in the fish shack this morning when you got up in his face and called him a stupid son of a bitch. Well done, by the way.”

He leaned back against the wall and shrugged a sort of sad, tired shrug.

“There's no way you would have brought up Maggie unless he hurt you something awful, and the only way he could have done that was if you'd made the incredibly bad life choice of falling in love with him.”

Ronan's smile wasn't big, but it was enough.

“Trust me,” she muttered. “It wasn't a choice.”

She waited a second, tipped her head to watch his expression. “You're not…you're not mad. We all thought you'd be furious.”

“Oh, see, that's where you're wrong. I'm mad enough to kick a cat, but I'm not allowed to show that right now, am I? Not while the place is full of guests.” He lifted his glass and bowed his head a bit. “Little gem I picked up from the old man.”

Jessie dipped her head and offered him a small smile. “I'm sorry.”

“Aw, shit, Jessie, I'm not mad that you went and fell for that idiot; I'm only mad because he's gone and fucked it up. But believe you me, once we empty this place out, I'm gonna make him sorry he ever drew breath.”

“But he hasn't screwed anything up,” she said. “Not yet anyway.”

“Then what—”

“Finn loves me, Ronan, I know that, but he's scared. He doesn't want to believe I'm going to leave him, but he can't help it, and when he finds out what I'm about to do…”

“You're losing me here.”

“I know. Sorry, I'm not making much sense.” Jessie walked over to the file cabinet and pulled out the legal pad she'd scribbled everything on after talking to Sam, along with a few more notes she'd added over the course of the day. “Before I show you this, let me explain what happened.”

For the next little while, she went through the whole thing with Ronan, starting with the way things ended with Sam, right up to when Ro overheard her go at Finn that morning.

“And these,” she said, handing over the pad, “are the numbers.”

At first it looked as if he wasn't going to take it, but after a second he reached out and set it on his lap. As Jessie watched, he skimmed the list top to bottom, returned to the top, and went through it again, running his finger down it line by line, frowning every once in a while.

“You're sure these are right?”

“Yup. Triple-checked.”

“And you've already given Sam your answer?”

Jessie nodded. “Not an easy task with so many people swarming around, but we sorted it out bit by bit, yeah.”

“No.” Ronan went over the page two more times, chewing his cheek harder each time. “I don't like it. You belong here.”

“Okay, well, I'm not exactly keen on the whole thing myself,” she laughed. “But it's like Liam said, we need to make the Buoys the priority, and that's what we would be doing.”

When Ro still didn't look convinced, Jessie went on.

“Over half of the people here are leaving tomorrow afternoon when the
Hooked
crew goes. Then there's two and a half weeks until we close for the season, and while bookings have gone up, we're still not full in those weeks and I don't expect we will be, because most people are busy with the start of the school year. Liam and Kate both know how to work the scheduling program on the computer, and Liam is more than capable of running the rest of things for a while.”

“Liam? You sure about that?” Ro scoffed. “He's just a big dumb jock, Jessie. This place can't run without you here.”

“Of course it can. I mean, it's really nice to hear you say things like that about me, but the truth is that no one's indispensable. Everyone'll have to pick up the slack for the last few weeks, but you'll all make out fine.”

“What about Finn? He's going to be some pissed.”

“No more than he already is,” she said, wishing his anger didn't hurt her so much. “I love him, Ro, that's not going to change no matter where I am or what I do. I just hope he starts to believe that before I leave tomorrow.”

Finn's attempt to be the same awesome fish whisperer the next day failed miserably. They didn't get skunked, but they didn't haul in half the halibut he'd hoped for, and to make it worse, he had a pounding headache all day, which made it that much harder to pretend he was the happy great guy he'd been yesterday.

They were only scheduled to be out for half the day, but it felt more like a month. Finn did what was expected of him, though, right down to the last minute. He took the requisite pictures with Sam and Liam, including the standard “look at me holding my huge fish by its gills” photos; he processed
Hooked's
halibut and joined in for more group shots on the dock when Kate and Ronan brought their loads of guests back.

It was getting harder for Finn to breathe, harder for him to talk, and damn near impossible for him to force one more smile. If he didn't get out of there soon, he was going to lose his mind, so the second he caught Liam's eye, he thumbed out toward the water.

With a short nod and a thumbs-up, Liam answered two questions. Yes, he knew Finn had to get out of there, and, no problem, he'd do the rest of the schmoozing until Finn got back.

Every once in a while, Finn really loved his brothers.

Careful not to cause a wake in the cove, he waited until he was out in the strait, shut off his radio, and then gunned it around the south tip of Calvert Island and up to his favorite cove, one he hadn't been out to all season.

If anyplace would set him to rights, it was out there with the salt air, the endless blue, and the quiet.

So why wasn't it working this time?

He pulled his favorite salmon rod out of its case and set himself up on the starboard side, the whole time trying to get Liam's voice out of his head.

Don't be Da.

Cast, let it sink a little, and reel. Slow, easy, steady. Nothing. Not even a nibble. He cast again and again: nothing.

Where the hell were the fish? He'd been casting for hours, doing everything he was supposed to do: sitting back, being patient, and waiting for the exact right moment to lure them in.

Because good things come to those who wait. It was what he'd always believed, right up until Liam blew that theory all to hell.

Don't wake up every day for the next twenty years waiting for something to happen. You need to get off your ass and make it happen.

But how was Finn supposed to make it happen with Jess? He thought he trusted her, thought he could finally be “that” guy with her. And yet the second he saw Sam touch her, everything went to shit and he reverted straight back to who he'd always been: the broken little kid curled up in the bottom of the rowboat. It had taken him years to wall that up, to learn when it was time to walk away from someone before his heart got ripped open again.

Jess was right; he'd never given any woman the chance to get close to him. But she had. She'd blasted through that wall, and now all it took was one word from her to rip him wide open again.

God, he wanted to trust her, wanted to believe that whatever was going on with her and Sam wasn't what he thought it was. But how? How was he supposed to trust that no matter what, at the end of the day, she'd still love him and stay with him? How could he be sure that he wasn't going to end up destroyed? How was he—

Tell that whole fucked-up part of your brain to fuck off.

The rod jerked in Finn's hand, but he didn't move, he didn't start reeling, he didn't do anything. He just sat there until the fish broke free, then he reeled the line in as fast as he could, threw the rod on the floor of the boat, and gunned it for home.

“If you can't fish with the big boys, keep your ass on the dock.”

Both the other boats were gone when Finn got back to the Buoys. Good.

After securing
Fishin' Impossible
to the dock, he ran full tilt toward the lodge, skidding to a stop when Liam called out to him from the Orange cabin.

“She's not in there,” he said, shaking his head. “And you shoulda had your radio on.”

“What?” Finn didn't have time for Liam's shit right now. “Where is she?”

“She's gone.”

A cold sliver of fear began sliding through Finn's veins. “What do you mean, gone?”

As he spoke, Liam gathered the dirty linens into a giant pile and shoved them into Finn's arms.

“I mean she is removed from here, departed the premises, she is no more.”

Fisting his hands tight around the sheets and towels, Finn fought to keep his voice even.

“Don't fuck with me, Liam. Where'd she go?”

“If you'd had your radio on, you'd already know this and you could have been here to tell her goodbye.” He picked up the empty mop bucket and forced Finn's fingers around the handle. “Come on, let's go have a drink.”

“I don't want a drink.”

“You will when you hear this. And we'll take them down to my cabin so no one else has to listen to you yell.”

He foisted the cleaning supplies into Finn's arms and refused to say another word until they were both sitting in the tiny A-frame.

“You were right,” he said. “There was something going on with Sam.”

“Where is she?”

“Wait. Don't you want to know what it is?” Liam frowned over his glass. “Last night you seemed pretty sure it was going to be bad.”

“That was before I told that side of my brain to fuck off. Now, where is she?”

“So you do listen to me once in a while.” Liam lifted his glass and knocked it against Finn's, which he'd set on the coffee table and hadn't touched since. “Little late, but—”

“I swear to God, Liam,” Finn warned.

“She's with Sam—and don't get your knickers in a knot. I knew you'd come around once you got out there alone on your boat, so I've already called for a Helijet, but they're going to be a while.”

“How long's a while?”

“Long enough that I can clue you in while you drink your beer.”

Finn didn't give a shit about his beer; it wouldn't stop him from wishing the Helijet would hurry up, it wouldn't stop his heart from beating up into this throat, and it sure as hell wouldn't stop him from wanting to reach out and strangle Liam for taking so long.

“Before I tell you anything,” Liam said, “tell me this: Do you love her?”

“Who are you—Oprah all of a sudden?”

“Funny. Answer the question.”

“What difference does it make to you?”

“Makes every difference, actually.” Good God, Liam was serious. “And I'm not just talking about, you know, like, ‘yeah, I love her.' I mean that deep in your gut, can hardly breathe, you're gonna rip someone's fuckin' head off if they touch her kind of love.”

“I'm about to rip yours off if you don't start talking.” He wasn't even kidding, and it only got worse when Liam egged him on further.

“That's not an answer.”

“Yes!” Finn bellowed, shoving off his end of the couch. “I love her, okay? I can't fuckin' breathe when we're apart, because I miss her so much, and I can't fuckin' breathe when we're together, because just being near her almost kills me. It's like…”

He pushed his hand flat against his chest in the hope it might ease the ache, but it didn't. All it did was make Liam smile.

“Excellent, okay. Now, if you're done with the dramatics, let me tell you what's going on.”

And for the next little while, Finn sat stock-still, listening to his brother lay it out for him. But even when Liam was done, Finn still couldn't quite wrap his head around it.

“Sam bought the Hewett place?”

“Mm-hmm.” Having finished his own pint, Liam reached for Finn's untouched glass and took a swig out of it.

“And Jess is…”

“Working the off-season there until he gets himself figured out over there and the regular staff set up.”

“But what about us? We can't run this place without her.”

“That's what Ro and I said, but she just went on and on about how we'd be fine, that no one was indispensable, and that the only thing we really needed to be careful of was letting you near the computer.”

“But she's not staying there. She's—”

“Yeah, she'll be back here full-time at the end of February. Unless you fuck it up.” Liam wiped the foam from his lip and shrugged. “Turns out she's the only one who was making the place a priority. What she makes working for Sam won't buy a new boat, but it'll sure as hell get us well into next season.”

“But she's coming back,” Finn repeated, slower, needing to make sure he hadn't misunderstood that part. “She said that, right? She's not staying there with perfect-hair Sam? She's coming home.”

“That's the plan.” Liam lifted the glass again, just as the whirring of the Helijet sounded outside.

“Shit,” Finn muttered. “I need a bucket; where's a bucket?”

“What do you need a bucket for?”

“Doesn't matter!” he cried. “Where are they?”

“You mean like a mop bucket?”

“No!” It was too late, he didn't have time to go looking, so he grabbed Liam's empty glass and raced for the door, with Liam's last words of advice ringing through the lobby.

“It costs a fortune to bring that Helijet in, so for God's sake, don't fuck this up!”

It had been almost six hours since Jessie left the Buoys, and she'd hated every minute of it.

The Hewett place—or, rather, the Ross place—was nothing short of spectacular. Perched on the tip of Langara Island, the huge log structure boasted a full spa, two restaurants, a gym, and a gift shop; plus it had half a dozen private cabins lining the west side, and each one was a miniature replica of the main lodge.

And the whole thing sat on a beach of rock that eased into sand closer to the ocean.

Jessie had never seen anything as beautiful.

And she hated it
so
much.

Even her new office—three times the size of the one at the Buoys, and clearly decorated by a professional—made her cringe.

“It's six months,” she muttered. “You can do it for six months.”

“Hey, Jess?” Sam came hustling around the corner into her office, then stopped. “Sorry. I mean Jessie.”

“Yeah.” Blinking back the burning in her eyes, she forced a smile. “What's up?”

“I know you're still getting settled, but can you—” He stopped, thumbed over his shoulder. “I need you to come with me for a second.”

Oh God. Please don't throw me to guests yet.

Inhaling a long deep breath, she followed him through the massive lobby with its tropical plants and expensive-looking leather furniture all arranged in perfect symmetry. A few guests were lingering here and there, but Sam walked right by them—something Jessie would have to correct him on later—and headed straight out the front doors.

The early evening sun blinded her for a second, until she lifted her hand like a visor and peered down the beach to where Sam was pointing.

“I need you to go do something about that,” he said.

“About what?” she asked. “It's just a guy digging in the—”

Jessie stopped, pressed both hands over her mouth, and fought against the lump climbing up her throat.

“Yeah,” Sam said, his voice soft, knowing. “It's not
just
a guy.”

And then he turned and walked into the lodge.

Swallowing hard, Jessie picked her way over the rocks and started down the beach, one step at a time, each one a little faster, a little shakier, until she got to about fifty meters away.

That was when Finn stood up and turned toward her.

Jessie hesitated, her next step faltered, but then Finn folded his hands behind his head and smiled, as small as it was.

She'd never been a sprinter, but she covered that fifty meters in record time and launched herself into his arms, monkey-hugging him the same way she'd done so many times in the lake.

He didn't try to kiss her, he just held on to her,
so
tight.

“I love you so fuckin' much,” he growled. “I can't even see straight most of the time.”

Tears streaming down her face, Jessie snort-laughed against his shoulder. “I know.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head against hers. “You don't. You don't have any idea what this feels like.”

She loosened her grip around his neck so she could hold his beautiful stubble-covered face in her hands. A storm of blue and green stared back her, silently pleading with her to do something, to save him from everything he was feeling but didn't know how to describe.

“Yes,” she said quietly, softly. “I do know what it feels like.”

Then, before he could argue, she leaned in and kissed him: slow, deep, and oh-so-freakin' perfect. God, how she'd missed him. It had only been a couple of days since she'd last kissed him, but it might as well have been a year.

She didn't care if guests were watching; she didn't even care if Sam fired her half a day into the job. All she cared about was having Finn smooth his hands up her back, down her sides, and across her butt, while his kisses pulled sounds out of her that made him smile.

And feeling him smile against her lips was the best thing in the world.

“You don't have to do this, Jess.”

“Yes, I do. The Buoys was there when I needed it, and I need to be there when it needs me.”

“Just come home,” he said, his voice a low plea. “We'll figure something out. I can't leave you here.”

“You're not leaving me here, Finn. I'm coming home in a couple weeks.”

“Home.” His chest expanded slowly against hers before he released a long breath. “Promise me you'll always come home.”

Nodding, she kissed him—his mouth, his eyes, and the side of his neck—before tightening her hold on him again. Maybe if she held him tight enough right now, it would last her until she got home.

“Hey,” he murmured. “There's something I want to show you.”

“And I'd love to see it,” Jessie said, laughing against his mouth, “but I don't think—”

“God's sake, woman, get your mind out of the gutter.” With a quick wink, he unhooked her ankles from around his back and set her down on her feet.

She didn't like that at all; she wanted to be in his arms, with his lips on hers and his tongue doing that slow mind-drugging dance with hers.

“I didn't have time to find a bucket,” he said, “so I had to use a glass, but I think it turned out okay.”

He took a step to the side and tipped his head down a little, just enough to direct her attention. Frowning, Jessie peered around him and beyond the sand-filled Guinness glass lying on the beach.

Her breath caught in her throat as she stumbled back a step, and then she was crying again, harder and uglier.

“You built me a castle.”