Certain Sure (9 page)

“Don’t Katie. Now who’s lying?”

“I’m not. You don’t have to say that. And, if you want to go out tonight, you can. I know you don’t get much time to yourself lately.”

“There’s no one I’d rather be with,” Fin said in a low voice.

Katie drew in a breath, slowly; she had to remind herself to breathe. She turned the corner home, pulled into the driveway, eased herself out, and walked around to the side door. Fin’s shoes padded over the grass behind her, their sides brushed against the roses and lavender in bloom around them. The sun gleamed low, the light glowed hazily, shadows danced around her. She unlocked the door and opened it.

“Come here, Katie,” Fin said. She faced him. He watched her from the shadow.

Katie moved to him. She’d seen this, heard him ask before. Warmth burst through her. He grabbed her and kissed her. The heat and pressure of him weakened her so she threw her arms around his neck, hanging on to keep herself from toppling onto the grass. He stopped and studied her, too serious for Fin. She smiled and pressed her lips over his, pulling him into the house. She couldn’t let go. She’d waited so long for him. He struggled to shut the door before pushing her gently away.

“Katie, are you sure?” he said with his hands on her waist.

“Certain sure.” Katie smiled and clasped his belt buckle. She untucked his shirt, brushing her lips over him, his masculine scent edging her into a brain freeze. Unfastening his buttons, she ran her hands up his chest and back down again until he moaned. She tingled and squirmed, no man ever made her feel so crazy good. Now Katie regretted her choice of dress as Fin tugged at it, unable to take it off. He melded into her, his tongue found hers. They tasted each other while their hands explored and teased each other. Katie ripped off his shirt. Next would be his pants. She ached with urgency. She pushed him against the wall.

“Not here,” Fin said as she alternated feathering her lips and tongue along his neck. “Upstairs,” he managed to breathe out before Katie covered his mouth with hers. They stumbled, pressed together, out the doorway, into the hall, up the stairs.

With each kiss, Katie’s instincts took control. Fin’s name repeated in her head like a chant. She eased them into her room. They breathed low and fast when they broke apart. Katie unbuckled Fin’s pants and smoothed them off. She lifted her dress over her head and let it drop to the floor. Her body warmed, sure this was right. Fin gazed at her, his eyes studied every inch of her while she stood before him in her bra and panties. She’d never let any man see her like that before. Because she’d been waiting for him.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, taking her in his arms. Warmth, calm, peace mellowed every knot and kink built up over years of worry and fuss. This was home.

They kissed again and the pleasant fire blazed up, consuming her. She closed her eyes while Fin undressed her fully then himself. The heat radiating from him tugged her closer until they were pressed together, moaning. Fin squeezed her bum and she giggled at his enthusiasm. Their playfulness soon changed to a tender exploration.

Caressing his face, Katie drew him back with her onto the bed. Fin lay half on her, stroking his hands over her neck, breasts, belly, thighs. She had wanted this fire and excitement, but they only could be imagined, until now. Countless times she’d pictured this moment and she admitted it had always been Fin. He eased his fingers between her thighs, but Katie stopped him.

“I want you inside me,” she whispered. Her dream would come true.

He was ready, Katie felt him against her thigh, hard and hot. Yet though he edged on top of her, he only caressed her face. Katie wished he would smile, but she couldn’t either. She parted her legs and clasped his arms to steady herself. He kissed her with slow thoroughness until she whimpered for him to release her from the tight ache inside.

Slowly, he entered her. She tensed. Fin pulled back. Willing her muscles to relax, she edged closer to him and tickled the back of his neck. Her cheeks burned as he began a steady rhythm, all the while studying her. His eyes glowed almost black, intense and soul-catching. She shivered, closed her eyes, and wrapped her legs around his waist. He gathered her into his arms. The burning in her made her bite her lip.

“Katie,” Fin whispered in her ear. “Oh Katie, mo grá, mo baile.”

She had no idea what he meant, something in Irish, but it didn’t matter. His tone made her melt. Embracing him, a tear danced off her cheek. She was with the man she had wanted for almost ten years. He finally wanted her too.

He exhaled as he made his final thrust. His breath whispered warm by her ear. Rolling off her, he hugged her into his side. She lay her head on his chest, listening to the quick tattoo of his heart. Inhaling, she smiled. Spice, roses, juniper, their own unique blend transformed her. Not just Katie anymore, but Fin’s Katie, Katie and Fin, a two-for-one special. She relaxed into him, her muscles warmed, senses atingle, better than the best massage, better than See’s chocolate buttercream eggs, better than the best kiss.

“Sorry,” Fin said.

Tension gripped her, pounding a dull pain into her head. She really had to stop dreaming. Her dreams had a way of becoming nightmares.

Chapter Eight

Fin exhaled. Stupid thing to say. Katie had been melted into him and now she went rigid. But he must have disappointed her; he hadn’t felt her come. Then again, most women needed extra help to get there, which was what he’d tried to do, but she wouldn’t let him. Of course, her asking him to be inside her was exactly what he wanted. Katie was exactly what he wanted. His love, his home, as he’d whispered to her in his childhood tongue while they’d made love. God, she was beautiful.

The phone on her nightstand rang. Both tensed further, two tree limbs snapping apart. The machine downstairs probably picked up. Katie’s soft breasts brushed against his chest as she shifted off him. They had fit perfectly in his hands. Her whole body matched his somehow. Sex was fun for Fin, but being with Katie was a new experience.

“Katie, I…” The phone rang again. Must be important, or maybe Pat calling to check on them. “I better get that,” he said. “Hello,” he said, picking up the phone. “Dillon residence.”

“Fin, thank God,” Mavis said. “Pat’s in hospital.”

“No.” Fin sat up, gripping the phone to his ear. He shivered. “What happened?”

“He wasn’t looking and he got hit by a car…”

“What do they say?” Fin shook his head. This was not happening, especially not now.

“Probably a broken leg, maybe a concussion and cracked rib, maybe his arm too. Can you come? Is Katie there?”

“Yes, we’ll be there.”

Mavis told him all the details of how to get to the hospital. “I’ve got to go,” she said.

Fin hung up. Katie sat next to him, the sheet pulled around her like a shroud.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Your dad’s been in an accident, but he’ll be okay, just a broken leg. Your mom wants us to come up there.” He rubbed his hand down over his face as he edged off the bed. Maybe he was as wicked as his grandparents used to tell him.

“Us?” Katie plucked at the sheet.

“Probably your dad wants to give me instructions about the pub,” Fin said.

Katie’s face mottled red. “I’d like some privacy to change,” she said, not meeting his stare.

He rose and gathered his clothes. Glancing back, Katie still huddled in the same position, her eyes downcast. His arms ached to hold her again, words of comfort fought to be spoken. He shook his head. He’d messed up everything, as usual. Give Fin boy something and he’d break it, he wasn’t to be trusted. “No problem.” He strode out and shut the door with a hard tug.

“Ready?” he asked when Katie appeared ten minutes later. He’d been pacing the hall for five minutes, checking his watch every thirty seconds.

“Yeah,” Katie said. They walked out to the car.

Fin gripped the steering wheel as they sped up the freeway. Lights flashed past, the quick whoosh of passing cars and the steady tread of tires competed with the tight throb in his ears. The bay came into view, shimmering slightly in the murky evening.

“He’ll be okay,” Fin said as they passed Candlestick Park.

“I know. I shouldn’t have argued with him.”

“You’ll work it out,” he said. Her taste, her warmth, the feel of her hands lingered, like the dull ache of a bruise.

“Oh? Like you and your dad have?”

“It’s not the same.”

“Why?” Katie said.

“Because my dad’s a right bastard and yours isn’t.” Take care of our girls, he’d said.

“Bull. I agree with your dad. You wouldn’t know the truth even if it bit you on the arse.”

“Ha, as if you would. I know a sight lot more than you, girlie.”

“I take back everything. You haven’t changed. You’re still the same arrogant asshole you always were.” Katie crossed her arms.

“And here I thought Maureen was the bitchy one. Guess we were both wrong.”

“Yeah.” Katie stared out the window again.

They were silent the rest of the drive. When they arrived, Katie rushed from the car as soon as Fin parked. She slammed the door and ran ahead, but she had to stop at the desk. Fin followed, scowling at her in the elevator. She did a number on him in more ways than one.

“Mom,” Katie said as she and Fin approached Pat’s hospital bed. Mavis turned and hugged Katie then Fin. Fin studied Pat, who appeared to be asleep. Bruises splotched his face and arms, his calf encased in a white plaster cast. His eyes opened and focused on Katie, who blinked, trying to hold back the tears that shimmered. Fin stared at his hands on the white sheet. Sheets as pristine as those on Katie’s bed. Fin swallowed hard.

“Ah, Katie girl. You needn’t have come. Fin, looks like I’ll be out of commission for a bit, if Mavis has her way.”

“I can manage. I’m glad you’re okay,” Fin said.

Pat started to laugh before wincing. Katie turned her head away. The three stood around the bedside. Mavis held her husband’s hand while Fin stood next to her, smoothing the cover.

“Maybe you could call Michael,” her dad said. “He’d keep you company tonight.”

A sharp pain shot through Fin’s head.

“I should go home,” Katie said.

“I’ll go,” Fin said. He had to get away, had to work on something until exhaustion forced him to bed.

“Yes, Katie,” Mavis said. “You stay at the hotel with me. You can drive us home tomorrow. They want to keep your dad overnight. The doctor was concerned about that bump on his head.”

“Mavis, love, I finally give you a night out and here I am.”

“It’s not your fault.”

Katie looked around and met Fin’s eyes. She frowned, blinking, and he turned to Pat. Fin clasped his hands together. Don’t let her cry, he prayed. He’d never been much for God, but lately he figured he needed as much help as he could get.

“I’ll be going,” Fin said. “Your car’s here?” Mavis nodded. “Do you want me to call Maureen in the morning?”

“Thanks,” Pat said. “Don’t forget Sally has the day off tomorrow.”

“I know. Don’t worry about a thing.”

“Thank you, Fin dear. What would we do without you?” Mavis hugged him. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’ll be at the pub. Will you call when you get back?”

Mavis nodded before she took Pat’s hand again. Fin glanced at Katie. She scowled and crossed her arms. Fin shook his head and walked out. Just as well if she hated him.

Fin drove home. But it wasn’t his home. He hopped out of the car as soon as he parked, taking a deep breath of the cool air. Katie’s crisp, vaguely floral scent crept from every surface in her car. Yet he hadn’t rolled the window down. Jogging into the house, he ran past the scene of their kisses, stopped on the stairs when Katie’s room came into view. Where he’d come home. When he’d betrayed Pat’s trust. He changed into jeans and an old tee and walked down and out the front door.

The little cottage in Mrs. Knight’s yard beamed white in the moonlight. Roses, lavender, and herbs brushed his legs as he passed. His hands twitched. His body remembered Katie, the scents which had surrounded them when he’d kissed her, made love with her, even as he told himself to forget. Somehow she’d imprinted herself on him, body and mind. He shook his head as he flipped on the lights. More nonsense.

“Hello, Fin, dear,” Mrs. Knight said from behind him. Her silvery updo gave him a shiver. In looks, her cool elegance reminded him of his grandmother Dunbar, but Mrs. Knight was like fine silk, beautiful but warming.

“Viewing the stars again?” he asked. She liked to sit on her back porch at night and star gaze. Her late husband had started her on it.

“Yes. I didn’t expect you working tonight.”

“Sorry. My lights ruining the show?”