I had hoped we could have a longer run, that our fingers could remain one for just a little bit longer, but when the heart of the one you love was in need of protecting, time was of theessence.
* * *
“Where are we going?”I asked for the hundredth time as we rolled down the Pacific CoastHighway.
“It’s a surprise,” he said, shaking his head at my impatience, all while enjoying the power he had over me. He knew damn well I hated surprises, and so he made sure to always pepper our dates with one or two just to keep me off guard. Planning and preparing had always been incredibly important to me but lately I’d been forced to relax on the rules and it felt good, for a change, not be a slave to theorder.
My house was still immaculately clean, of course, but if a dish needed to sit in the sink for a few minutes longer so Finn and I could get it on in the bedroom, I was okay with that. And if Cynthia hacked up a hairball, it could wait… no, never mind, a hairball could never wait. That shit got scooped up mid-fuck ifnecessary.
“But is this surprise a fancy one, like I’m going to be embarrassed by my choice of clothing, or will it be a surprise where I pretend I’m excited but I’mreallynot?”
“Way to be romantic. I pour my heart into these surprises, and that’s your attitude?” The smile on his face told me he wasn’t offended. In fact, getting Finn riled up took way more than a simpleinsult.
“So what you’re saying is, this surpriseiscrap?”
“No. I’m saying it’s not a surprise if you know what it is. Now shut up and let meentertainyou.”
I settled back in my seat, a contented smile on my face. Finn really did enjoy doing nice things for me, and it felt amazing to be pampered and cared for. What I liked best was he didn’t feel the need to wow me with the expensive. Finn’s surprises were more heartfelt. He put effort into his choices for no other reason than to put a smile on my face – like the dopey one I waswearingnow.
Finn pulled off onto the shoulder of the Pacific Coast Highway. I knew where we were, and I smiled at him. I’d been here plenty of times asakid.
“Thesandhill.”
Finn’s surprise was a two-hundred-foot vertical climb up a sand dune. A rite of passage for any native Southern Californian, as kids the sandhill had been a McKallister ‘must stop’ on our way back from the Malibu beaches. We’d race up that hill at full speed, gradually losing that child-like energy, and crawl the remainder of thewayup.
He nodded. “You ready forahike?”
Looking up at the mountainside, I hadn’t remembered it being so high. Or maybe the height issue hadn’t been as much of a problem for me as a child. I knew I’d grown more cautious over the years, but seeing things I used to easily conquer terrifying me now made me realize just how much I’d changed. I no longer wanted to be a scared, world-weary Emma, and it had taken Finn’s surprises to make merealizeit.
“Let’sdoit.”
* * *
The climb was brutal.There was nothing like a giant sand dune to make you feel out of shape, and while I had to bend over and catch my breath, Finn was barely winded. We stood at the top, holding hands, and looked out over the ocean. Peace was the only word that cametomind.
We plopped down into the sand, and I lay back in Finn’s arms as we watched the waves roll in and sun dip lower over thehorizon.
“Tell me more about your family,” I asked. “I’m curious aboutRocky.”
He tensed. Finn, as open as he was with me, seemed to have a few skeletons in the closet, and those bones appeared to have something to do with hisbrother.
“He’s younger,right?”
“Yeah, by fifteenmonths.”
“Do you lookalike?”
“God no. He’s way betterlooking.”
“No way is that possible,” I said, snuggling incloser.
“Oh, trust me on this one. He may be a total screw up, but he’s not lacking in the looks department. We’re half-brothers, and when we were kids, we used to imagine what our fathers looked like. Rocky insisted his was some medieval Viking because he was big and broad and fair. Growing up, no one ever believed we were brothers, what with me looking like I’d stuck my finger in a light socket mywholelife.”
I reached up and gently ran my fingers through his curls. Once reviled, they were probably my favorite thing abouthimnow.
“Are you closewithhim?”
“We were,” Finn said. I detected a sad story tofollow.
