Finley,
Ask Robbie about this day. After you talk to him, take June aside privately and tell her you’d like to see my poem. Don’t mention to either of them that your questions are motivated by your birthday treasure hunt.
I love you, Dad
Finley blinked at him. “This is a clue ... which means that, by the skin of my teeth, I was right when I speculated that the mine in theBrothersbook was of importance. Which totally amazes me, to be frank. In the original book, I’m guessing that Dad had tabbed down a page or underlined something. He might have even left a note for me that would have led me directly to this vial in my keepsake box.”
“Probably. Without access to the original book, we were at a disadvantage.”
“Yet we emerged victorious.”
She’d voiced her doubts about her theories regarding her dad’s clues. But she was smart. Her instincts were often right. “If your dad could see you now, he’d be proud.”
She stared at him, eyes soft. “That’s a very nice thing to say.”
“If I was nice, it was unintentional.”
She made a sound of amusement but didn’t look away. Intensity leapt to life between them.
“In the past,” she’d said to him the day after their last kiss, “you tried to explain why it wouldn’t be wise for us to follow through on physical attraction. At this point, I see the wisdom of that, too.”
Wouldn’t be wisewas an understatement. His hunger ran so close to the surface that if he reached for her now, he wouldn’t let go until this whole house turned to ash.
She’s probably dating Derek now, he told himself. But that dark thought didn’t bring logic. It shredded it.
“Intimidating Luke Dempsey is never nice,” she said.
“Never.”
“I understand. You’re like Lady Gaga. You—”
“I’mnothinglike Lady Gaga.”
“—have an image to maintain. No need to worry. Your secret niceness is safe with me.”
“I have no secret niceness.”
“That’s because it’s secret even from you. Don’t be alarmed.” She lifted her hands in front of her like a person showing the police they held no weapons. “I’m not going to make any sudden movements, but Iamgoing to give you a hug. A friendly one.”
He wanted to feel her body against his so badly that it made him angry at himself.
“May I?” she asked.
He tipped his chin. She wrapped her arms around him and laid her head against his chest.
His arms had a mind of their own. They banded around her.His chin rested gently on the top of her head. She was warm, her body fit and soft at the same time. He closed his eyes, trying to memorize the feel of her.
They breathed together, and a hard knot inside of him loosened.
Holding her like this was less sexual but more emotional. Back in the day, he’d been able to compartmentalize sex. This, he couldn’t.
“I’d been worried,” she murmured against his shirt, “that the Dewey decimal number was a dead end ... that we wouldn’t be able to finish this hunt. And I couldn’t stand the thought that you wouldn’t receive closure.”
“Me? This is your hunt.”
“This isourhunt.”
“This isyourhunt.”
