What the hell? Willow had brought Mac along for support, and as soon as the temperature got cranked up, she bailed. Some freakin’ wing-woman she was.
“We don’t have anything to work out,” Willow said. “All I need to know is—” She cut herself off. Why was she discussing this when Finn was sitting right there?
More importantly, why did shecareif he was there when she did?
Steeling herself, she straightened her shoulders and addressed Ty, doing her best to ignore the way Finn bored holes into the side of her face with his eyes. “The tattoo you gave me. I want it gone. What’re my options?”
As much as she tried to ignore Finn, she couldn’t help the way her eyes darted over to him as soon as the words left her mouth. The crack in his facade was subtle, but it might as well have been a flashing marquee for as loudly as it screamed at her. He was good and pissed if the tightness in his jaw and shoulders was any indication. But, really, what did he have to be pissed about?Shewas the one who’d been left behind.
“All right,” Ty drawled, glancing at Finn out of the corner of his eye before focusing back on Willow. “Well, you can always do a cover-up. Your original tattoo’s not very big, so it’d be pretty easy to do.”
“And if I don’t want it there at all?”
“There’s always laser removal, but, Will, that’ll—”
“I have a few options you should consider,” Finn said.
Willow’s eyebrows shot up her forehead as she looked over at him. Was he for real? “I’m not all that interested in your opinion, considering you’re the reason I’m here in the first place. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna listen to what Ty thinks is best since he’s the professional.”
Finn stood then, setting his beer on the side table, and took a step toward her, then another and another. And, all right, it probably didn’t help her case the way she took equal steps back for every one he took forward, but she couldn’t be that close to him again—could not. Except she didn’t have a choice because soon her back was pressed against the wall, and he wasn’t stopping—didn’tstop until he stood directly in front of her. So close, she could feel the heat emanating off his body, could smell his delicious Finn scent. She snapped her spine straight and commanded her body to hold herself upright so she didn’t do something horribly embarrassing like faint at his feet.
And then she did something she absolutely shouldn’t have. She took a deep inhale of him—fresh and clean, like the air on a summer day—and just…looked.
Lord, he was pretty. He’d hate that descriptor, but it was accurate. His eyes were like butterscotch candies surrounded by the lushest eyelashes she’d ever seen, a total waste on so much masculinity. His nose wasn’t perfect—he’d gotten in too many fights for there not to be a bump or two—but it was perfect on him. The scruff was new to her since he’d stayed mostly clean-shaven when they’d been together, but she could admit she liked it on him now. It made him look even manlier—which was nothing but trouble, because Finn certainly didn’t need any help in that department.
She begged herself to stop cataloguing his features there, but her eyes didn’t listen as they continued their path of no return until they reached his best feature—his mouth. His lips weren’t overly full, but the curve of his top lip begged to be traced—and she had too. With her fingers. And her tongue.
Low, so low she wasn’t sure Mac or Ty could even hear him, he said, “Stop lookin’ at me like that, or I’m gonna start thinkin’ you want more than you’re sayin’.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” she said, her eyes glued to his lips.
Said lips kicked up a notch on the side. He leaned closer—how was that even possible when it felt like they were as close as they could be while in mixed company? “C’mon, Willowtree, let’s go down the hall and discuss your options. Alone.”
His words shattered her trance, reminding her exactly why she shouldn’t be in such close proximity to him. She crossed her arms over her chest, desperate to hide her reaction. The last thing she needed was for him to think she was still attracted to him.
Even if it was the painfully obvious truth.
“Funny, I didn’t think you were a tattoo artist,” she said. “Though, to be fair, I guess I really have no idea what you’ve been doin’ with your life since I haven’t heard from you in adecade.”
He reached up and rubbed his fingers over his jaw, studying her. “I didn’t want to have to bring out the big guns for this.”
She set her shoulders, narrowing her eyes at him. “Oh yeah? What’re those?”
He leaned even closer, his breath a whisper of air against her mouth. “Either go back there and listen to what I have to say, or I’m gonna tell Mac and Ty the sound you make when you—”
She yelped and didn’t even think about it as she slapped her hand over his mouth, her eyes wide in horror, darting over to where her sister and Ty sat, oblivious to what was going on between the two of them. “You wouldn’t,” she hissed.
Along with a raise of an eyebrow and a nip to her fingers currently pressed against those perfectly shaped lips of his, everything about his body language said,try me. She studied him, wondering if he was bluffing. The sure and steady way he stared back at her indicated he absolutely wasn’t. Not even a little.
She shoved her hand harder against his mouth, pushing him toward the hallway off to the left. “I hate you.”
He stepped back with a smile and led them down the hall and into an unoccupied bedroom. “Knew you’d see it my way.”
“Not like you gave me a hell of a lot of choice.”
“Aw, I think you and I both know you just needed an excuse to come back here.”
“You are such an arrogant jack—”
