She moved behind me, running her palms up and down my spine. The motion was meant to soothe: however, one particular part of my anatomy didn’t get thememo. In fact, it was becoming more and more rigid by the minute.
“Focus on breathing.”
“I’m trying, baby, but more than the gun is going to shoot off if you keep touching me.”
“Finn,” she chided, even though I could hear the amusement in her voice.
“Okay. Okay.” I cracked my neck from side to side. “I’ve got this.”
“Open your eyes and line up the target.” She stepped to the side, keeping one hand on my back. “Deep breath in, then out. Good, again. This time, count to ten as you’re exhaling. Gently squeeze the trigger when you get to four.”
“One. Two. Three. Four.” I pulled my finger back slowly. “Five. Six. Seven. Eight.”
Bang.
Water flew in every direction when the bullet ripped through the base of the bottle.
“Feckin’ hell. I did it.”
“Good. Now do it four more times.”
We spent the remainder of the morning out in that field. Believe it or not, the sense of pride I felt, after sending six of the ten water bottles to meet their maker, closely compared with how it felt when I broke away from my father to start Lachlan Industries. Scary, yet satisfying. It wasn’t all sunshine and roses, but a win was a win. I’d take them in any form they came. Including the gorgeous woman at my side.
Waverly was the biggest win of all.
She didn't give a damn about the money or the power that came along with being the CEO of a multi-billion-dollar company. She saw me. The real me. Finnian KierO’Lachlan; loving brother, protective uncle, and loyal friend.
In return, she afforded me the same. No games. No bullshit.
The fierce, take no prisoners FBI agent she presented to the world was part of an elaborate act; a shield she wielded like a weapon to protect her vulnerable side. Only a select few were allowed past her defenses. Shayne and Duncan had gotten there for certain. To a degree, her team of agents had as well. For some reason or another, she included me in that short list. More so, she dropped the facade completely. It was a privilege I’d never take for granted.
Waverly was gorgeous, with her auburn locks and emerald eyes, but looks could be deceiving. Beneath the surface, that’s where the truth hid from view. Except her truth held more than beauty; it bled pain. Feck…so much pain I wondered how she could breathe at all.
The losses she suffered were buried deep; cast aside in order to survive from one day to the next. It changed her in ways I couldn’t even imagine, but it didn’t break her will and it most certainly didn’t break her. I’d never met anyone stronger.
The sun was high in the sky when we finished packing up our makeshift gun range and started the trek back to the house. My arm was tossed over her shoulder and her hand was tucked in my back pocket.
“What are you thinking about so hard?” she asked, flexing said hand against my arse cheek.
“You. Always you.”
She stopped mid-stride, slipping out from under my arm. “What about me?”
The writing was on the wall from the moment I caught her staring at me on the beach. Even then, the pull was toogreat to ignore. She ran, I chased, like a hunter obsessed with his prey. The only thing left to do was claim my prize.
So I did.
Threading our fingers together, I tugged her into my chest; barely hearing her sharp inhale over the roaring of blood in my ears.
“You’re a thief, Waverly Mitchell.” I rested my forehead against hers. “You stole my heart in the Caribbean, and I hope like hell you never give it back.”
Not able to wait any longer, I took her mouth; pouring every ounce of my soul into the kiss. I may not have said those three little words yet, but I hoped she felt them with every stroke of my tongue.
Her breath whispered across my lips, “I never stood a chance against you, Finnian O’Lachlan.”
“You didn’t. I love you too much to let you go, baby.”
“I’m scared to death, but I…I love you too.”
