"You could learn," Finn said, the suggestion simple but loaded with implications that made Caroline's heart beat faster. "Ellen did. She wasn't born knowing how to run this place either."
She shook her head, though the gesture lacked conviction. "It's not that simple."
"Isn't it?" he challenged, still standing close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him. "Or are you just afraid to try something that isn't already mapped out with an exit strategy?"
The observation cut too close to truths Caroline wasn't ready to examine. "You have no right to psychoanalyze me," she retorted. "You've known me for all of two weeks."
"I've known you longer than that," he said quietly.
"What are you talking about?"
"Ellen talked about you. For years." His voice had softened, though the intensity remained. "Her brilliant niece in Chicago. How proud she was of you, even though you rarely called. How she kept that childhood photo from your visit, and saved every Christmas card you sent."
"I didn't know," she whispered.
"There's a lot you don't know," Finn replied, his gaze dropping briefly to her lips before meeting her eyes again. "About Ellen. About this island. About what could be possible if you stopped planning every exit before you've even arrived."
Something shifted in the air between them - the anger transforming into a different kind of tension, equally charged but far more dangerous. Caroline was acutely aware of his proximity, of how his breathing had quickened to match her own.
Without warning, Finn turned and strode back to the door. Caroline was certain he was storming out, that their confrontation would simply end in this unresolved standoff. Instead, with deliberate movements, he turned the deadbolt with an audible click.
When he turned back to face her, the look in his eyes made Caroline’s breath catch. He crossed the shop in four long strides, purpose evident in every line of his body while she stood rooted to the spot, heart hammering against her ribs as he stopped directly before her. "What are you doing?"
Suddenly his hand was at the nape of her neck, fingers threading through her hair as he crushed Caroline against him.
"Something not in either of our plans," he stated, his voice rough with emotion.
48
Their lips metwith an intensity that silenced everything - all doubts, arguments and defenses.
Caroline gasped against his mouth, her hands instinctively gripping the front of his shirt as the kiss deepened from surprise into something deliberate and consuming.
Finn kissed like he did everything else - with complete presence and commitment, one hand cradling the back of her head while the other pressed against her lower back, holding her securely against him. She felt herself responding with equal fervor, years of contained emotion finding release.
Her fingers slid up to his shoulders, feeling the solid strength beneath thin cotton, then into his hair, softer than she'd imagined during those moments she'd allowed herself to imagine this.
The sea glass in her pocket pressed against her hip, a small, solid reminder of transformation and possibility as Finn's mouth moved from her lips to her jaw, then the sensitive spot below her ear that made her knees weaken.
"This is a terrible idea," she breathed, even as her head tilted to grant him better access.
"Probably," he agreed against her skin, then reclaimed her mouth in another kiss that erased further objections.
Caroline's world narrowed to the press of his lips against hers, the solid warmth of his body as he held her against him. His hand at the nape of her neck sent shivers cascading down her spine, awakening nerves she hadn't known existed.
She had spent her entire life making calculated decisions, and yet this - this surrender to something entirely unplanned - felt like the most natural choice ever.
When they finally broke apart, Finn's eyes were dark with desire, his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts that matched her own. His thumb traced the curve of her cheek with unexpected tenderness.
“Maybe we should..." he began, his voice rough as he glanced at the display window, where they were in clear view of the street.
“Go upstairs,” she finished breathlessly, surprising herself with her boldness.
The corner of his mouth lifted in a smile that made her heart stutter. Without warning, he bent and swept her into his arms, one hand beneath her knees, the other supporting her back. She let out a startled laugh, her arms instinctively circling his neck. "Seriously?" though she made no move to free herself.
"Absolutely," Finn’s eyes sparked with mischief. "These floors creak like old bones. Someone might hear and think Sea Glass Bridal is haunted.”
Upstairs, he set her down gently on the edge of the mattress in her room, then looked at her, his expression a mix of desire and something deeper, more vulnerable.
