“I’m not sure what you’re insinuatin’, Miss Haven.I’donly planned to look at the stars.” He pointed to the sky and twirled his finger in an unknown pattern. “Thought we might try to make some dirty pictures out of what we see.”
She laughed and followed where he pointed. “That sounds more in line with what I know of you.”
He gasped, dropping his hand to his chest as if he were affronted by her words. “Me? You’re the one who came out here with plans to…what? No blankets in your car, no pillows, no picnic basket, or iPod to listen to.” He leaned close, dipping his head down to whisper into her ear. “Were you hoping I’d fuck you up against that tree, or that I’d send you to your knees in the field and take you from behind?”
Sweet Lord in heaven, his words did nothing to abate the burning low in her belly, the ache that’d settled permanently between her legs. She tried not to let her reaction show when she said, “Actually, I thought we might go for a swim.”
Finn hummed, not moving his mouth from her ear, and the sound sent ripples of need down her spine. “Pity. I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”
Funny. Neither did she. They never did—hadn’t since the first time they’d done it.
She turned her head so they were nose-to-nose, his warm breath whispering across her lips. “Since when has that stopped you?”
He reached up and brushed her hair away from her face, then trailed a single finger from her temple to her jaw. Leaning in, he nuzzled her neck. “You know what’s funny? Everyone thinks you’re so innocent, but really you’re a terrible influence on me.”
She laughed, and he joined along, his puffs of breath tickling her collarbone. When he didn’t respond to her original request, she pulled back so he’d lift his head, their noses once again brushing. “So? You gonna let me be a terrible influence on you and drag you skinny-dippin’ with me?”
The look he pinned her with said if they did this, they’d be doing a whole lot more than skinny-dipping when they got in that water.
Which was exactly what she’d been hoping for.
* * *
It was almostmidnight before Willow got home, so late the thought that she needed to sneak in to the guesthouse didn’t even enter her mind. She slipped out of her car, shut the door, and stepped onto the front walk, head down as she smiled to herself, remembering the feel of Finn’s arms around her, his whispered words as he’d taken her in the water under the moonlight.
“Awful late night, honey.”
Willow jolted, her head snapping up. Her grandmother sat in one of the beat-up rockers she and Mac had purchased for their tiny excuse for a porch, wearing her housecoat and a pair of scuffed slippers.
“Gran! You scared the livin’ daylights out of me.”
“Mm-hmm, and I’m sure you bein’ jumpy has nothin’ to do with you bein’ up to no good tonight, isn’t that right?”
Willow’s face heated, not only from the thoughts that’d just been running through her mind, but from what she’d gotten up to in those thoughts. “What? I wasn’t—”
“There a storm somewhere in the county I didn’t hear about?” Gran scanned Willow from head to toe, making her feel like she was standing there naked instead of fully clothed. “Better question, if there was, how are your clothes dry, but every other part of you is soaked to the bone? Your hair is positively dripping.”
Willow reached up and patted the wet strands. Soaked, indeed. That was because, as prepared as Finn had been, he hadn’t thought to bring towels. And as they’d already established, Willow hadn’t thought to bring anything but herself. She was a mess. A completely sated, blissed-out mess. “Umm…”
“Mr. Thomas must give out some excellent cupcakes to deal with all this nonsense.”
Willow choked on a laugh, her eyes bulging as she stared at her grandmother. There was little doubtcupcakeswas a euphemism for Finn’s dick—something she definitely didn’t want to discuss with her grandmother, for heaven’s sake.
“Oh, honey, I’m old, not dead. And that’s one fine-lookin’ man you’ve got there.” She pushed to stand and shuffled her way to Willow, patting her arm as she passed.
The path between here and her parents’ house was well lit, so she wasn’t worried about Gran finding her way. Still, she said, “You want me to walk you over?”
But Gran just waved a dismissive hand over her shoulder. “Don’t worry about me. Go on in, now, before your daddy comes out lookin’ for me. And dry that hair before you catch a cold.”
Willow stood rooted in place, staring after her grandmother until she slipped into her parents’ house, and Willow was out there all by herself. Even though Mac and Avery—and, shit, now Nat—knew about this thing she had going with Finn, she couldn’t deny it felt kind of…nice…to have someone else in on it. Especially when that someone else encouraged the madness.
What was it her gran had said earlier? It was about time Willow had gotten up to some nonsense? She couldn’t agree more.
The long days were starting to wear on Finn. Not to mention the bullshit they continued to put up with thanks to the bastard of a mayor. They’d failed the inspections more times than he could count. So much even Nash, Mr. Easygoing himself, was starting to get pissed.
To make up for the missed time, they’d been busting their asses. Up and working by six a.m., if not earlier, and if he was lucky, he dragged his ass up to the apartment around eight in the evening. Fourteen-hour-plus days of manual labor really sucked the life out of a person. And he was cranky as hell about it.
He and Nash had cut out early since they’d be back later that evening for a quick meeting with Rory. It’d been divine intervention that he and Nola had run into her those weeks ago at the hardware store, because she’d taken it upon herself to help them out of the goodness of her heart. Bossy thing that she was, she’d turned out to be a godsend for them—not only did she know what she was doing, but she was helping them out for free. Which, in Finn’s book, made her damn near an angel, despite the fact that she was definitely a devil to work with.
