Cara O'Shea's Return (17 page)

“Oooh, nooo.” Jill breathed shallowly and paled.

“Oh, no, is right!” His voice rose until the last word was a shout.

Cara stepped between them to pull the hammer from his hand before he decided to put it to good use. She turned on a horrified Jill.

“You’re right, Jill.” She crossed her arms, the hammer dangling from her gripping fingers. She was amazed her voice sounded so calm, considering the town crier had just announced her sexual escapades to a half dozen men. “I am sleeping with him, but unlike you, I’m only using him for sex, not to put Palmerton on the map.”

Ryan burst out laughing behind her. Several of the other men snickered. That is, until Finn jerked his furious gaze in their direction. A round of nervous coughing ensued.

Tears filled Jill’s eyes. “God, I’m sorry, Cara.” She turned to Finn. “I’m sorry, Finn. I never should have said that.”

“No, you shouldn’t.” He stomped over to the water cooler and filled a paper cup, draining it without taking a breath.

The damage done, Cara attempted to diffuse the tension, despite her own embarrassment. “Why can’t you find someone else to be the grand marshal? Finn obviously doesn’t want to do it.”

“There is no one else. Everyone wants Finn to do it. He’s just concerned about the potential chaos because of the press he’ll draw. But we’ve already addressed that problem.” Jill shifted into sales mode once more. “We’ll have a press tent beside the viewing stand for the parade. He’ll only have to make a brief statement and answer a few questions.”

He snorted rudely, but Jill continued “We’ve already set up a four-man subcommittee to deal with the press, Finn. If they want a spot at the press conference, they’ll have to abide by our rule that you be left alone.”

“The press makes their own rules.” He tossed his empty cup in the trash pail, turning an angry glare on the workers who were following the conversation with interest.

Ryan cleared his throat. “I think it’s time for a lunch break. Come on, guys.” Finn tossed him an appreciative smile as the men filed out through one of the open French doors.

Before Finn could speak, Cara interjected. “Is the press the only reason you don’t want to do it?”

His lips thinned with displeasure. “Isn’t that enough?”

She had a taste of his disdain for certain members of the press at dinner the other night, and yet
he
had pointed out they also had their uses.

“If anyone knows how to work the press, Finnegan, it’s you. Besides, the attention wouldn’t hurt the fund raiser for the senior citizens center, and your involvement will up the
interest quotient
.” He glared at her, hearing his own words coming back at him. She refused to be intimidated. “That
was
the reason the committee decided to combine the fund raiser with the celebration in the first place, wasn’t it?”

At his darkening scowl, Jill shifted toward the front of the room. “I’ll talk to you about this later. I forgot I had another appointment.”

When the door banged shut, Finn lurched forward and wrenched the hammer from her loosened grip. He pointed it at her, handle first, leaning in until they were almost nose to nose.

“Using me for sex doesn’t give you the right to stick your nose in my Goddammed business!”

She stumbled back as though he had slapped her. After the incident with Stockwell last week, and the contentious conversation that followed, she expected Finn to make some excuse to end their affair or least send her packing. He hadn’t, and she began to believe she wasn’t alone in her belief that they had something lasting. Having him reconfirm the temporary nature of their relationship made her want to cry, but she couldn’t blame him for being angry. He’d told her what he thought of the press. She should have stayed out of it. And she shouldn’t have said what she did to Jill, either.

She heaved a weary breath. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have interfered. I won’t again. And I’m sorry for the
using you for sex
comment. Jill pissed me off, and I wasn’t thinking.” She tossed the shim she held onto the counter. “I think I’ll call it a day.”

****

Finn watched Cara climb the stairs to her apartment and barely stopped himself from hurling the hammer through the glass of one of her new doors. The hurt in her eyes when she offered her apology stung like a raw wound. He cursed himself for putting it there, but damn it. Why couldn’t women just enjoy an affair for what it was, without involving themselves in every other area of a man’s life?

Afternoon stubble scratched at the palm he rubbed over his face. He should have followed his instincts the night they met up with Stockwell, and walked away from her then. Each day their affair continued, their relationship became more and more complicated, for both of them.

His gaze followed the curve of her prized spiral staircase to the apartment door at the top of the landing. Their argument was the perfect excuse to put an end to a relationship he would screw up eventually. But instead of climbing those stairs and doing what needed to be done, he pulled the cell phone from his pocket and punched Jill’s number.

“I’ll ride in the damn lead car,” he growled when she picked up. “But don’t come crying to me when your quaint little celebration turns into a circus, because I’ll just say, I told you so!”

****

The week leading up to the anniversary celebration passed swiftly for Cara. With Finn’s promise to act as grand marshal, volunteers spruced up Cooksen Park where the viewing stand would be located. The Blue Bell diner did a brisk business, supplying lunch for the workers. Merchants decorated their storefronts, while town workers swept and scrubbed the curbs. The citizens of Palmerton were abuzz with excitement over the town’s big day.

Finn adamantly refused to discuss the celebration. He’d be the grand marshal, fulfilling his obligation to the town that had supported him his whole life, but he damned well didn’t want to know anything more about it. Just tell him what time to show up, he had said. He would make his speech and ride in whatever car they pointed him toward.

Though Cara wished she could blame her imagination, she sensed a change in him. He did nothing she could point to conclusively, as if to say, aha, that’s it! That’s the kind of thing making me sense a cooling of your interest. And yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling his interest had cooled somehow.

He still talked with her and made her laugh while they worked to finish the studio with his crew, or in the evenings when they were alone. He certainly hadn’t pulled away when it came to their physical relationship. There was no question he still wanted her, not when he took every opportunity to see she wanted him, too. When they were in lying in bed, wrapped in each other’s arms, he never wore the haunted expression she had seen in his eyes once or twice, when he didn’t know she was looking.

She moved back into her apartment the day after Jill’s visit. With the stairs and doors installed, she decided she shouldn’t overstay her welcome. He’d invited her for a couple of nights, and those nights had stretched into several weeks. He didn’t argue when she told him she was going home, but when work on the studio was done each day, he climbed the stairs behind her. He had spent every night since in her bed.

Work continued to progress on her studio with thrilling results. With only finish work left to do, Bob Burns and Finn were the only ones left working on Friday morning when the front door opened.

“Evan!” Cara squealed, running across the expanse of the studio to launch herself at her friend. He swung her in his arms before setting her back on her feet. She returned his grin. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see this amazing studio you’ve been gushing about.” His dubious gaze scanned the clutter of construction tools. “I guess it’s a work in progress.”

She followed his gaze to the back wall of the building and settled on Finn. She frowned slightly at the closed stare on his face where he crouched, sealing the threshold of the last door.

“You should have seen it a couple of days ago. The new staircase is in, and we’re just finishing the French doors. Isn’t it fabulous?” Linking her arm through Evan’s, she pulled him toward the back of the room. “Come on. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

Finn rose as they approached.

“Finn. This is my friend and agent, Evan Malone. Evan, Michael Finnegan.”

Evan nodded and stuck out his hand. Finn wiped his palm across his dusty T-shirt before shaking Evan’s hand. A wrinkle of confusion marred Evan’s brow beneath his wheat colored hair.

“Nice to meet you. I was at the Giants game five years ago when you drilled that pass into the end zone to steal the game, and our playoff hopes, with two seconds left.”

“Mullen made a great catch.” Finn shrugged his broad shoulders and gave the credit to his favorite tight-end.

Evan’s gaze flicked to Cara before returning to Finn. “I never would have expected to find an all-pro quarterback installing hardware, but then, when Cara is involved, nothing surprises me.”

Cara rolled her eyes. “Finn is my contractor. The finished woodwork you see around here is his work.”

Evan’s golden brown eyes passed over the woodwork. “I’m impressed.”

“So was I.” Cara smiled softly at Finn. “I browbeat him until he agreed to help me get this place into shape.”

He didn’t respond to her gentle teasing as she expected. Instead, he spoke in a clipped tone. “We’re about done for today.” He slipped the hammer into the belt at his waist, his focus dropping to her fingers, still wrapped around Evan’s arm, before his eyes rose to meet hers. “We’ll be back in the morning to clean up and finish. You’ll have your studio in working shape by the time the anniversary celebration begins, but the floors will still be tacky, so I wouldn’t suggest throwing open your doors to the mob.”

“Anniversary celebration?” Evan glanced between them.

“The town turns two hundred fifty tomorrow.” Distracted, she spoke to Evan without glancing away from Finn. He’d made it clear he didn’t want anything to do with tomorrow’s festivities, but she thought he had put his anger behind him. “This is my private studio, Finn. I hadn’t planned on opening it to the public, tomorrow or any other day.”

He responded with a neutral grunt.

Evan patted her hand resting on his arm and smiled down into her face. “If the pieces she’s already shipped to me are an indication of the type of work this place inspires, then I say any investment she’s made will be well worth it.”

“We aim to please.” Finn bared his teeth in a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Bob Burns called down to him from the landing above, interrupting them. Finn left to climb the stairs with a muttered, “Excuse me.”

“You liked the canvases?” she asked Evan as she followed Finn’s progress up the stairs.

“I’ve already had an offer on
Unforeseen Consequences
. Do you want to talk about it?”

She knew he was talking about the painting, and not the offer, but she was still just as confused as she’d been that afternoon when she finally spoke to her father. Finn’s perplexing moodiness forgotten for the moment, she leaned her head against Evan’s shoulder. “No, I don’t. I’ve missed you, Evan.”

Evan’s gaze lifted to Finn as he descended the stairs and began gathering up tools for the day. When he glanced back at her, his smile was dubious.

“From the looks of things around here, you haven’t had time to miss me.”

“I have been a little busy.” She cursed the blush heating her cheeks.

“Have dinner with me,” he said suddenly. “I’m in town to meet with an artist in the Back Bay.” He twisted his wrist to check his watch. “I’ll be an hour, but free the rest of the evening.”

“Seven sharp, tomorrow,” Finn called out as he and Bob passed by. “We’ll be resealing the hardwood first thing, so find somewhere to store your stuff.”

He bent to heft a circular saw before heading for the door.

“Cara.” Evan drew her attention though her eyes stayed on Finn. “Shall I wait, or will you meet me downtown?”

“I’ll meet you. Where?”

“I’m at the Four Seasons.” Curling a finger under her chin, he turned her until he could drop a kiss on her mouth. “Eight o’clock good for you?” She nodded. His gaze cut to the door and Finn. “It was good to meet you, Finn.”

“Same here.” Finn shut the door behind him with a thud.

Evan rounded on her. “
Michael Finnegan
is your contractor?”

“It’s a long story.” She stared at the closed door with her heart pounding in her chest. He seemed so angry. Could he be jealous? Jealous of Evan? The possibility sent a tickling thrill up her spine.

“I’m sure it is.” Evan checked his watch. “I’ve got a few minutes. Let’s hear it.”

Her smile was wide with giddy excitement. Laughing, she wrapped her arms around him and pressed a smacking kiss to his cheek. “I really have missed you, Evan.”

****

Finn yanked the saw from the bed of the pickup with restrained violence. He’d recognized that man’s type the moment Evan Malone stepped through the door. The thousand-dollar, oatmeal colored suit screamed money, while the lean build and patrician appearance whispered sophistication. He’d added predator to his mental list of adjectives describing Cara’s agent when he glared into Evan Malone’s golden brown eyes. The man was no harmless trust fund playboy.

He now knew the identity of Cara’s one and only other lover. He hadn’t needed to see Cara throw herself into the man’s arms to know they shared more than simple friendship. Malone didn’t look at her with the eyes of a friend. His were the eyes of a man who had tasted her sweetness and thirsted for more. The vision of the handsome agent pressing a kiss to Cara’s mouth burned on the screen of Finn’s mind, and he did his best to ignore the surge of jealousy blasting through him.

He had no business getting bent out of shape. He had no claim on her, and it was only a matter of time when he’d have no contact with her either, other than that of neighbor. They’d be living in the same town, and a woman who looked the way she did...Well, he’d better get used to seeing her with other men.

The idea made him want to rip something apart, or someone. He fought the overwhelming urge to drive back over to her studio and snatch her away from her
friend
. He’d let Malone know in no uncertain terms that Cara O’Shea was his.