From Winter's Ashes: Girl Next Door Crime Romance Series - Book Two (28 page)

Come on, Joselyn. Stay strong.

“You were right to walk away. This is too dangerous. I know now what it cost you to run into that fire to save me. I won’t ask that of you again.”

“You’re not asking. I’m here. Whether you like it or not.”

She wished she could read his face. His words bespoke obligation. Like he’d been coerced. Even the strongest will could be swayed by Declan Whyte. She’d seen it time and again without fail. But this was about more than protecting her life and her father’s reputation.

There was something much more fragile at stake.

“Finn …” The word pleaded with a vulnerability she’d meant to disguise. “This isn’t a good idea. I know what it’s like to live in a nightmare. I don’t want to become another one for you. Let’s cut our losses and call it a day. I can’t keep doing this.” Retreating backward, she started to close the door, but the stubborn idiot couldn’t let it go.

His hand slapped against the door, something wild and rebellious blazing in his eyes. “I told you I wasn’t asking permission. I’m yours. And though I appreciate your concern, I’m a big boy, I can handle it.” Those eyes dared her to disagree, to deem him weak.

And though he wasn’t a violent man, that determined expression on his face scared her. Like this was about more than simply protecting her and putting on a show for her father’s campaign.

It had become a quest for Finn to prove himself.

A very bad feeling quivered to her core, alerting her senses to an approaching storm. If they failed—and the odds were definitely swaying that way—more than only
her
life would be destroyed.

Joselyn knew her life was a mess to begin with, and she had next to nothing to live for. But Finn was, in fact, a hero. His life meant something. He had faith and family and a purpose.

She wanted that too. All of it. A place to belong, here or beyond, where love was true and steadfast. Unconditional.

“Let’s go. We’ve got reservations at seven.” He tossed in an arrogant smile and a ridiculous shrug of his eyebrows, as if they hadn’t spent the last five minutes in a standoff.

Joselyn sighed again. It was all she could think to do at the moment. The man was stubborn as an ox. “Fine. One more night. Don’t forget to smile pretty for the cameras.” Tossing over a sassy sneer of her own, she stepped out onto the porch and locked up.

He extended his arm as if he were a perfect gentleman, she took it with another huff as they walked out into the frigid black wind—the stalking darkness a constant reminder of who might be plotting her death in the shadows. Her grip tightened, a prickling sensation raked over her skin.

“I, for one, plan on doing a whole lot more than smiling.”

“Huh?” She quit scanning for signs of trouble and looked up at Finn, searching for meaning in his eyes as he opened the passenger door. His large hands wrapped nearly all the way around her waist as he hefted her up into his truck like some helpless damsel in distress. Which she had to admit, she kind of was. The thought pinched, but something tingled in her belly that had nothing to do with shame or fear.

Finn winked, and before he closed the door he brought clarity to his comment. One that left little room for doubts.

“Though what I have in mind definitely requires lips and is bound to make me smile for a long, long time.”

Chapter 34

Finn Carson

Despite the arctic blast battering the old Ford and the flakes of frost kissing the windshield, it was smoking hot in Finn’s truck. Heat burned the tips of his ears. A slick of sweat dampened the steering wheel beneath his palm.

This was their first date.

Maybe contrived and manipulated, but still.

The pressure of the moment mounded on his chest, and his heart beat harder to combat the strain. He felt the yips nipping at his heels, and he could almost envision everything going wrong. The date had barely started, and already it wasn’t going so great.

The silence seemed to mock him.

And the heat! Good Lord, the heat!

He dialed down the air flow and redirected the vents, but right then Joselyn crossed one of her long, shapely legs. The heater might as well have been on full blast and one hundred degrees in the cab for the swell of fire suddenly breathed upon his neck.

It didn’t help matters that Finn couldn’t tell what Joselyn was wearing underneath that trench coat, so his mind ran wild with what might be revealed in the hour to come.

“Okay, you really need to loosen up. You’re making me nervous. Where’s all the sarcasm, even the innuendo. I’ll take anything at this point.”

Finn rolled to a stop to wait for the light to change and took the opportunity to look over at his date. Man, she was gorgeous. Undeniably and uniquely jaw-dropping.

In fact …

He clamped his mouth shut.

The stubborn jut of her chin and the glare in those hypnotic eyes told him he was blowing it.

“Sorry. I was lost in thought.”
Thank God she can’t read my thoughts.
“Oh, here, I got you something.” Steadying the jitter of his fingers against the hard case, he passed it over and studied her reaction.

The corners of her almond shaped eyes crinkled adorably from the full force of the megawatt smile that about stopped his heart. “Eli Young Band. You remembered my favorite song?” Dang. The way she was looking at him made Finn decide his life’s mission should be to make her smile like that every day.

His lips couldn’t help but curve to match hers, and he nodded. “Mmm-hmm. We lost yours; thought you might like a new car-warming present.”

“Wow. That was amazingly thoughtful. You’re making it difficult to stay mad at you.” Her eyes teased, and her smile held. And he may have lapsed into cardiac arrest. “Can we put it in?” She bounced in the seat.

“No can do, babe. This is a country-free zone.” He patted the dash of his trusty old truck and felt slightly self-conscious about the simple accommodations compared to what she was used to. It was well-maintained, clean, and rust-free, but it still seemed a little rudimentary.

Someone honked behind him. The light was green.
Oops
. He stepped on the gas and lit out under the soft, starry lamplight of the sleepy suburban streets. “I could be persuaded if you agree to sing along, crazy girl.” He peeked at her from the corner of his eye and tried his best to remember how to flirt.

“Nice try. I’ve sang enough for you, you little sneak. How about you sing something for me?”

Shaking his head, he refused to meet her gaze. “I don’t sing for other people.”

“I remember.”

The words were low, the memory an elephant sandwiched between them, and the heat in the cab spiked another couple degrees. Remembering that moment, all those years ago, when he’d almost kissed her for the first time made him want to pull over and take the liberty simply because he could. Was that what she was remembering too?

“I do too, Joss. I don’t think I could ever forget.”

Dinner was painfully unimpressive, and Finn found he kept closing his eyes to pray for a do over.

No such luck.

Ornate molded ceilings and an extravagant glittering chandelier canopied over their secluded booth. Everything was shiny and pristine, draped in sweeping textures of whites and creams. And scarcely a sip of his water would go down before someone came to replenish the loss.

But while the service was exceptional, if a bit overbearing, and the opulent aesthetic quite pleasant—especially with the most stunning woman he’d ever laid eyes on mere inches away—the date was … quiet. Boring.

And that wasn’t even the worst of it. The pretentious five-star restaurant was crawling with leeches. Several of whom had wormed over to Finn and Joselyn’s private table and expressed their support for Joselyn’s father’s campaign.

Finn could barely restrain the urge to erupt on the bottom-dwelling swine that kept popping in and stilting their conversation.

The extent of the media frenzy had been unexpectedly overwhelming too. The stunning view of Joselyn’s face had been obstructed by an array of black spots for five minutes after their intensive photography session from the truck to the door of the restaurant. And even now, though the maître d’ had assured discretion, a shuttering sound would occasionally weave into Finn’s ear. Prying eyes were everywhere, and it only seemed to squelch the romance.

As the courses strung along, Finn concluded that this was the last place he would have picked to take Joselyn on their first date. Though it appeared he had no choice but to hang on for the—rather dull—ride.

When the time came for the sauntering meal to finally come to an end, Finn had been cut off at the knees, emasculated further by Declan Whyte’s preemptive payment for the absurdly overpriced food for mice.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked.

Joselyn smiled, a sigh of relief slipping from her pretty pink lips. “Yes. I thought you’d never ask.”

Helping her up from their c-shaped booth, Finn eased Joselyn’s coat over the little black dress that, as he’d suspected, induced a sweltering fever and about made him salivate all over the pristine table cloth.

Guiding her toward the rear exit, he pressed his hand at the small of her back and leaned into her ear. “You ready to give ’em an eyeful?”

Her head whipped around, and her eyes unleashed their venom, a waft of her peppermint hair teasing his nose. “Don’t get any ideas. I do everything in my power to avoid the spotlight, because it’s not just a light. It’s a microscope. A really cruel, unflattering magnifier of half-truths and outright lies sensationalized for maximum destruction. We’re going out back. Hopefully they won’t catch on until we get to your truck. In the meantime, just behave yourself.”

He allowed a few moments for her to witness his slow, mischievous grin for her edification and was rewarded when a subtle flush of color filled her cheeks. Then he leaned in, humming his words against her ear. “But I don’t wanna behave myself. I’m thinking we should misbehave together. Plus, this will get your father off your back. And the paparazzi will think they snuck up on us, and they’ll write all about our fiery romance, putting all the rumors to rest. Win-win.”

Finn held open the door, his heart twitching with anticipation he could hardly contain. Scrutinizing his intention, her eyes drew their bead on him and she stood planted in place. What was sure to be a play at intimidation evoked something else entirely. He tugged her outside and almost dragged her down the back alley, around to the sidewalk several doors down.

“Finally.” Turning her to face him, he stepped closer and cradled her face in both hands.

“Finn, what the heck are you do—”

Cutting off her protest at the source, Finn closed the distance between their lips.

She was immediately inching back, her body resisting the magnetism. Her lips, on the other hand, had no qualms about the intrusion and eagerly parted to introduce one of her own. Yet she was still pulling away until the space between them widened enough to break the kiss—much too early for Finn’s liking.

Finn indulged the game of cat and mouse, stalking slowly forward until the heels she wore brought them almost nose to nose.

“What are you doing?” She licked her lips, and he tracked the movement before watching her gaze dart to the photographers still oblivious to their slip.

“This is called kissing, Joss. You do it quite well. Now stop stalling and give me something to smile about.” He loved having an excuse to do this. Backing her against a brick store front, he leaned his body flush against hers in a way that was none too innocent, aligning them from their shaking knees to their racing hearts. Their breaths billowed white in the night air as he breathed her in, hovering a skin-tingling whisper away before her hands tentatively touched his chest. Game over. He captured her lips again.

This time, she surrendered. Her touch lit a trail of fire on his skin. The flame skittered up his chest, over his jaw, and into his hair where her fingers gripped hard. She arched her back, allowing his arms to surround her and hold her tighter.

A tiny moan of pleasure escaped from her throat, and the clicking and flashing of approaching press faded away leaving nothing but Finn and Joselyn—their lips, their souls intertwined, lighting up the dark world with the kiss of a lifetime.

He groaned and crushed her, savoring every stolen second. She tasted so sweet, like the Italian crème dessert they’d sampled after dinner had lined her mouth with silken sugar.

His appetite was suddenly ravenous, and any semblance of restraint obliterated. Breaking from her lips, he let his kiss do the talking for how beautiful she was, how precious and desirable. How loved. All while indulging in the skin of her neck, her cheeks, her eyelids, her ear. Her candied breath warmed his skin as he explored the satiny planes of her flawless face.

“
Finn.”

His name ached out on a breathless sigh that unraveled his brain, sent his God-fearing mind to a dangerous place. A place where her kiss leveraged his very existence, her touch more vital than the oxygen she siphoned from his lungs.

It was only then—with that abrupt and absurd realization—he remembered that the film was rolling on this moment. The pictures, relentless. And the reporters weren’t simply observing they were barking questions, slinging accusations about politics and appearances. And payment.

Gently, he pulled back, dragging a regrettably crisp breath past his lips. Joselyn blinked languidly at first, as if she too had lost herself in their kiss. A more lucid blink, and a grimace tightened each one of her lovely features as the crude slander snatched away their perfect moment.

Reaching up, he ignored the chaos surrounding them and smoothed the hair away from Joselyn’s face—soft, glossy, perfect hair he was solely responsible for ruining with his wild, untamable affections.

“Let’s get outta here.” He tipped his head toward his truck, curled her hand into his, and parted the pack of wolves still hunting for a story. They’d given them more than enough to satisfy their rabid hunger—and Joselyn’s father’s need for a newsworthy romance—but these vultures were ruthless in their quest to expose.

Finn hadn’t expected the pummeling cruelty. Each blow cheap and dirty. Finn’s alleged infidelity, Declan Whyte’s bribery, and worst of all, Joselyn’s cold and heartless talent for keeping men at bay.

Feeling her fingers tremble in his, he lifted her frozen hand and pressed it to his lips.

The scavengers were still scrounging for scraps when Archer slipped from cover and sidled next to Finn. Amid the bustle of too many bodies, Finn doubted anyone noticed Archer speak low and firm into Finn’s ear.

“Get Joselyn out of here. Now. The area’s not secure.” Archer seamlessly ambled away as if he hadn’t dropped a bomb.

Finn thought about calling out, getting more than the abbreviated warning, but instead he went onto autopilot, boosting Joselyn into his truck, sprinting to the other side, and tearing away from the flashing frenzy.

Joselyn looked shaken. It was her eyes that gave her away. What had been a white-hot flame of desire was now as cold and vacant as tundra. She couldn’t have heard Archer, but he knew she’d seen him.

And if Finn thought the date had been loaded with pressure, it was nothing compared to the mountain-sized task of protecting her from a cunning and obsessive lunatic.

Finn thumbed to Archer’s number and wedged his phone against his shoulder.

“Hayes.” The edge in that one curt word wasn’t exactly reassuring.

“Dude, what’s going on?” Without looking, Finn reached over and snatched up Joselyn’s hand. Somehow, simply holding on made the possibility of losing her less threatening.

“Patrols spotted a man with a military rifle ducking into an alley about 300 yards from the restaurant. They spooked him and are scouring the area. Sal thinks he’s got a trail, so we’re gonna go. I need you to take Joselyn someplace safe. Maybe the Whyte Estate. It’s not far, and they have good security. Go now. Lay low. I’ll send someone over.”

The call disconnected before Finn could get a word out. Urgency rammed his foot down on the gas as he tore through the windy back roads toward Declan Whyte’s mansion. The pristine white winterscape a deceptively peaceful counterpoint to the dangers lurking around each black ice-riddled bend. The heavy duty tires continually fought for traction, carrying them to the Whyte refuge that had been Joselyn’s prison.