Honestly, I didn’t know people talked like that.
And I certainly didn’t expect to be invited for pizza and ice cream and asked to return to my job.
It’s such a strange and amazing experience that I don’t know how to process it.
I have to wonder if lovely moments like these are normal for some people, people who haven’t had to fight and claw for every scrap the way I have.Do women expect men to make things right the way he did with me yesterday?Are there a lot of men like Finlay MacLaine in the world—the real world, not pretend stories and fantasies?
I know of one other, at least.In the car with Cal yesterday, I was struck by how similar he and Finn are.I don’t know about the other brothers, since I haven’t met them.But Finn and Cal share the same black curls and have a similar physical stature and a deep, polite voice.
It’s weird, though.
When Cal glanced at me, I saw dark violet eyes, but they didn’t shoot azing!of recognition through me.Cal seems like a gentleman, a very handsome and sweet man who gave me a ride to town.
But he sure isn’t Finn.
I don’t have to call himMr.MacLaineanymore!
Ha!
I throw my fists into the air over my head and giggle, but the giggle fades as I remember why I’m awake so early.
I don’t know what to do.I don’t know what I’msupposedto do or how most women might act if they found themselves crazy for a man they just met, who happens to be the man they work for.
Maybe one day I’ll find the courage to ask Summer how she’d handle it.Summer seems like the kind of woman who’d know exactly how to walk a tightrope like this.But I know I won’t ask her.I can’t share my secret with Summer or with anyone.
It’s mine to carry.Alone.The way I’ve carried all my secrets.
I think Finn already suspects, though, especially after the goofy way I kept smiling at him last night over the laminated edge of thePinata Parmigianamenu.
I’m many things, but I’m not a fool, and I’m well aware that Finn MacLaine is in a completely different league than me.He’s educated.A successful businessman who was once happily married.A devoted dad.And though I think he may feel something for me too, it can’t be the same over-the-top tangle of feelings that I’m dealing with.
He’s too put together for that.
But I do catch him glancing at me every once in a while.Certainly at the restaurant last night and then in the car on the drive home.I can sense when he’s studying me.
It feels like he’s waiting for something.For me to screw up, maybe?Say the wrong thing?Confirm his initial doubts about bringing me into his home?
Maybe.I wouldn’t blame him if he still expects me to make a wrong move.
And yet… sometimes I think he’s looking just for the enjoyment of it.Like he’s curious about me, appreciative even.I think he finds me pretty.I’ve had a lot of men tell me that, though the compliment is usually an attempt to get something from me in return.Nobody has ever just told me I’m pretty and that was that.
I admit that flattery has worked on me sometimes, but only in those moments when I felt lower than low.When the loneliness was too much for me to hold and the memories were too horrible for me to keep at bay.
When Finn looks at me, I look right back at him.It feels most natural when we’re talking.If we’re having a conversation, I have enough time to drink him in.
I drink in his unusual violet eyes rimmed in the blackest of black eyelashes.His sharp jawline.His straight nose.The way his brow sometimes crinkles when he watches me talking with Jasmine.Not like he’s worried I’ll do something horrible to her, but like he’s trying to figure me out, understand how in the world I ended up in his orbit.
I wonder the same.
Finn pays attention to me, and it’s been a long, long time since I’ve had any kind of positive, nonthreatening attention from a man.Scratch that.I’veneverhad this kind of attention from a man.Normally, instead of looking at me, they ogle me.Instead of stepping out of the way for me or opening my door, they bump into me, let the flat of their hand slide over my breasts or their fingers clutch my butt.
Not Finn MacLaine.He’s a gentleman, like his brother Cal.A big, burly, gorgeous gentleman.
Who’s only a few strides away.
I could get there in seconds.I could slip in through his bedroom door, stand still at the foot of his bed, and just observe him while he sleeps.I could wait until he feels my presence.His eyes would open.And I’d cross my hands over the front of my nightshirt, grab the hem, and slip it right off my body.
Then I’d slip between his sheets.
