He took a long pull from his drink. The storm began to rage around us, soaking everything in sight. It was wild and beautiful; kinda like how Finn made me feel.
“Screw it.” He took both our bottles, set them at our feet, then grabbed my hand. “Let’s go.”
“What are you doing, Finn?” I cried out as he pulled me to the top of the steps.
“I may not be able to stop the downpour, but I can dance with you in the rain.”
Running headlong into a deluge of water, we were soaked to the bone without a care in the world. Life took a back seat to living as we swayed to the beat of each dropthat fell from the sky; merely existing in the moment. It was cathartic; freeing in a way I didn’t know I needed.
Minutes passed, maybe hours as we moved from side to side. The trees were our backdrop, the sky our audience, while the thunder provided the music. It wasn’t the graceful waltz I’d seen in old movies; it was sloppy, yet it was the single most romantic gesture I’d ever known.
Until he dipped me.
He captured my laughter with a kiss and shredded the last of my resolve. Finn demolished any clouds of doubt I still had about our future. Tears stung my eyes, threatening to spill over from the onslaught of emotions which accompanied the unexpected revelation. There was nowhere to run from my feelings; nowhere to hide. I’d tried that already and failed miserably. The only thing left to do was acknowledge the truth in their meaning. At least in my head.
I’d fallen in love with Finnian O’Lachlan.
Dammit all to hell.
Waking up in Finn’s arms was quickly becoming a necessity. The soothing caress of his warm breath against the back of my neck was enough to make me want to stay in bed for the rest of eternity. If it hadn’t been for the incessant ringing of the doorbell, I might have suggested it. Cracking my eyes open, I stole a glance at the bedside clock. Six thirty. Noreen and Joel were early risers. Good to know.
“They’re fired. Both of them,” he grumbled behind me.
“We told them to come over in the morning.”
“Not we, baby. That was all you.”
Guilty as charged. Once we’d warmed up from our jaunt in the storm the night before, we’d gone to check onthe couple at their little cottage. Eggs Benedict was mentioned, then before I knew it, I’d invited them to join us for breakfast. What could I say? I was a sucker for hollandaise.
“Besides, morning doesn’t infer the arse crack of dawn.”
“They’ll go away eventually, right?” I stretched backward, purposefully brushing my ass against his hard length.
He nipped my ear. “I’d love nothing more than to slide deep inside you, but they won’t go away easily.”
“How do you know?”
The sound of the front door opening and closing had me shooting up in bed.
“Because Noreen knows the door code.”
“Finn? Waverly?”
“We’ll be down in a minute,” Finn hollered before flipping the covers off and rummaging through his bag for clothes.
It was a damn shame for him to cover up his gorgeous body, especially the half sleeve of ink covering the upper part of his right arm. At first, I’d thought they were tribal, but on closer inspection, they were rows of Celtic knots interwoven around two blue daisies. They had to have special meaning; I just hadn’t thought to ask about them before then.
“What do your tattoos mean?”
He paused briefly before answering.
“The Celtic knots stand for love, loyalty, and strength, and the daisies are the twins.”
“Why daisies?”
“They symbolize resilience.” He pulled a shirt over his head while I slipped on a pair of yoga pants. “Sloane had a rough time when she got out of the hospital. Her recovery was hard, more so because of the pregnancy. She has asmaller version on her back. It was a way to remind us we were stronger than whatever life chose to throw our way.”
“I’ve always wanted a tattoo.”
