This was new territory for them—her making the first move. Asking him to come to her. And Finn proved that by standing there, so close to her but not touching, waiting for Willow.
“Hi.” Groundbreaking conversationalist, she was.
His lips quirked up at the side before he glanced around, taking in their remote location. “Been a long time since I’ve been out here,” he said.
She looked around at the clearing, a quiet little spot they’d stumbled upon one night after a shift at the shelter. A small pond—one they’d swum in too many times to count—and an old, long-forgotten barn were the only interruptions in an otherwise giant swath of fields as far as the eye could see.
“Me too.” It’d always been their special place, which was why she’d never shared its existence with another soul. Mac didn’t even know about it.
Finn’s eyes darkened and dropped to her lips as he licked his. “And what made you want to come all the way out here tonight?”
She lifted a shoulder. She couldn’t explain it, really. She’d just been feeling the urge to…bewith him. Not sex—though that always crossed her mind—but be in his presence. Talk to him, learn the things she didn’t know, fill in the huge gap of time for which she had no reference. Not knowing how to put that into words, she said, “Just wanted to say thank you. For the cupcakes.”
“Swinging into the bakery and grabbing them for you hardly constitutes all this fuss.”
“Finn…”
He mocked her tone. “Willow…”
“C’mon now, don’t do that.” She reached out and wrapped her fingers around his wrist. “I know it was a bigger deal than you’re makin’ it out to be.”
For a long moment, he stared at her thumb rubbing tiny circles along his inner wrist. Finally, he asked, “Are they your favorite?”
“You know they are.”
“Then it’s no big deal at all.” He stepped closer and wrapped an arm around her, bracing his hand at the small of her back. Lord, she got tingles every time he touched her. Tingles that zipped all through her body, pinging this way and that, before settling low in her belly. Building. Growing.
“Why’d you ask me out here, Willowtree?”
“I…I already told you. To thank you.”
With his other hand, he cupped her neck, his thumb brushing maddeningly along the underside of her jaw. “Coulda done that in the text you sent tellin’ me to come here. Or you coulda stopped by the bar after work. You coulda done it a dozen different ways, but you didn’t.”
She couldn’t very well tell him that besides wanting to be in his presence, she’d also hoped they could take advantage of the secluded location to sate the lust that’d overtaken her. While they’d gotten in some heavy making out and had rounded a few bases during all their sneaking around, the last time he’d been inside her had been that day in his bar. When he’d made her lose her mind right up against the wall. Made her lose her mind and crave him tenfold. The bastard.
“I just… I—” She snapped her mouth closed, swallowing back the words. Saying all that was too much, made her feel too vulnerable when that was the last thing she wanted to feel around him. If this was going to work between them, she needed to stay one hundred percent in control.
Something about her body language must’ve tipped him off, because instead of pressing, he simply dropped a soft, sweet kiss on her lips, then wrapped his arm around her shoulders and guided her toward the truck. “Sweet as this invitation was, I didn’t figure you planned to do much in that tiny toy car of yours.”
“Hey, I like that tiny toy car.” She elbowed him in the side then glanced at her little Prius. It was perfect for tooling around town and getting her where she needed to go, but it wouldn’t serve Mr. Six-Foot-Two very well. And, truth be told, she hadn’t thought much past getting him out here so they could be alone. Some planner she was. “Though I guess you’re right…”
“Good thing I thought ahead.” He dropped his arm from her shoulders and pulled down the tailgate. The bed of the truck was piled high with blankets and half a dozen pillows, a perfect, cozy nest. “What’d you say, Willowtree? Wanna look at some stars with me?”
The words made her pause, made her heart skip a beat. They’d been the exact ones he’d said to her, in this exact location, more than a decade earlier. It’d been their first date, and she’d been such a mix of nerves and excitement, she’d been worried she’d throw up her lunch.
Finn hadn’t had much money, and Willow hadn’t cared if they’d gone out to eat or to a movie like all her friends tended to do on their dates. Instead, he’d driven them around in his beat-up truck—one so decrepit, she’d prayed it would run long enough to get them back home safely—until they’d found this place. That decrepit truck had lasted dozens of times, taking them from town out to their little pocket of paradise and back again.
Damn. This was bad.Sobad. She could actually feel her walls crumbling. Cracks and fissures on every surface she’d erected around her heart. Trouble was, even though she knew it was bad, knew it was happening, she had no desire to stop it. She’d spent years feeling nothing more than a mere blip of attraction to a small handful of men. With Finn, it was different, a single star compared to the whole galaxy. It was intoxicating to feel this mix of desire and chemistry again.
As long as she kept things on track, it’d be fine. As long as she kept reminding herself this was temporary, that Finn wasn’t there to stay—that their affair would end, again—she’d be fine.
So she smiled up at him, dipping her chin in answer.
“Attagirl.” He lifted her straight up into the truck bed before jumping in after her.
“Awful cozy up here, Griffin Reilly.” She settled back against the pillows stacked along the cab of the truck, her legs stretched out in front of her. “What, exactly, were you plannin’ on gettin’ up to back here?”
He lay next to her, the arm closest to her folded behind his head, as if offering his chest for her to snuggle into. Not that she was going to do that. Snuggling was something couples did, and that was one thing they definitely weren’t.
