Lured In (14 page)

“Jesus, Jess.”

She tipped her head to the side, chewed her bottom lip, then shrugged and picked up her knife again.

“Mom and Dad tried for a while. They sent me to a shrink, then we all went together a couple times, but they couldn't talk about it and I
wouldn't
talk about it, because I was the one who made Tracy take me out on the air mattress, and I was the one who left her down there, who kicked her off me when all she was trying to do was save herself. I kil—”

Before she could finish that sentence—one he couldn't stand to let her say—Finn knocked the knife out of her hand and pulled her into his arms. She struggled against him at first, but he tightened his hold until she finally gave up, bunched his T-shirt in her gloved hands, and rested her forehead between them on his chest.

“You know that look,” she said, her voice so fragile, “the one you saw in Jimmy's eyes when he was drunk?”

It was all Finn could do to nod; God, how he hated that she knew about that.

“That's what I see every time I look at my parents.”

He could have told her it wasn't her fault, and it would have been the truth, but the truth didn't matter, because there wasn't anything anyone could say that would erase the memory of that look.

An accident, a horrible accident, that's all it was. It wasn't Jess's fault, but how could she ever believe that if all she saw in her parents' eyes was that same hollow vacant look Finn saw? He couldn't imagine how awful it must be to lose a child or how hard it must have been for them to remember they still had another child who needed them, but still…

“I'm sorry.” He pressed a soft kiss against the top of her head, sighed, and then did what needed to be done: He tried to lighten the mood. “Have you ever met two people as fucked up as us?”

She choked, but when she glanced up at him and laughed, a tiny bit of the hurt was gone and in its place was the beginning of the warmth he needed to see.

“We are a pair, aren't we?”

He knew she was going to pull away soon; she was already leaning back, but before he let her go, he swiped his thumb across her cheek and caught what he hoped were the last of her tears.

“If I could…”

“I know.” She nodded slowly, shrugged even slower. “But we both know there's nothing anyone can do. It is what it is.”

“Yeah,” he said, dragging the word out. “But I shouldn't have guilted you into telling me all of that. I didn't mean—”

“You didn't guilt me into anything,” she said, offering him a small smile that looked pained and tight. “All you did was tell me I should find someone I trusted, and in case I haven't made that clear in the last few days, you're the one I trust, Finn. Just you.”

Everything inside his chest seized up, choked him breathless at the way she said that with such ease, as though he should have already known it.

“And after hearing your big sob story,” she teased, “I figured you'd be the only one who'd understand, since both of us are so—what was the elegant term you used?”

“Fucked up.”

“Right. That.” She was trying to make light of it, too, he knew that, but it didn't make it any easier, knowing how much she hurt.

Finn didn't move for a long moment, because it struck him that even though her eyes were all puffy and red, her cheeks blotchy, she had fish guts all over the front of her sweater, and she'd just snorted snot down the front of his T-shirt, she was still, hands down, the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Really not the time.

No matter how loud or how often that screeched through his mind, he couldn't look away from her. It was Jess who finally broke the trance he'd fallen into when she cleared her throat, stumbled back a step, and reached for one of the clean rags so she could wipe her face.

“Come on,” she said, her voice light but still a little wobbly. “We better finish up or you're going to miss your share of terrine.”

“Right. Yeah.” Nodding, Finn turned his back on her and rummaged around in the cupboard until he finally managed to blink the burning out of his eyes and was able to take a breath without it getting stuck in his throat.

When he finished filleting the salmon on his board, he scraped the scraps into the bucket, then leaned his hip against the counter while he bagged and tagged it.

“Tell me something.”

This time when she snorted it made them both laugh.

“Yeah, okay,” she snickered. “Because clearly we haven't told each other enough the last couple of days.”

“You don't have to tell me if you don't want, but—” He had to blink to stop staring at the way she chewed the corner of her bottom lip. “After all that, what in the holy hell were you thinking coming out here of all places?”

“I couldn't stand it at home anymore.” She shrugged slowly. “I needed to get as far away from everything as I could. Away from my parents, from the empty chair at the dinner table, from having to walk past Tracy's room so many times a day, and away from how we could never talk about her. They took down every picture of her, cleaned out her room and everything, but even without a trace of her anywhere in the house, she was still right there in every breath of air in that house.”

“I bet.”

“So when I saw Jimmy's ad for someone to do grunt work, I jumped at it. I figured it would get me good and far away from all the silence, which it did, and it would force me to get over my fear of water.”

“But it didn't.”

“No.” She scoffed, her voice dry and tight. “It didn't.”

“Then why the hell did you stay?”

“Honestly?” The blush on her cheeks deepened as she ducked her head a little and laughed. “The only reason I stayed at the beginning was because I was too damn scared to get back on the float plane. I filled three barf bags on the trip in and almost fainted on both takeoff and landing because I was so sure we were going to crash and that I was going to die the same way Tracy did.”

“Jesus.”

“I was terrified of Jimmy, too, believe you me, but not nearly as terrified as I was about getting on that plane again.”

“Wait.
You
were scared of Da?
You?
”

Jess blew out a sharp raspberry. “Cha. Everything about that man was big and loud. He scared the crap out of me at first, but by the end of that summer, I'd fallen so completely in love with this place I couldn't stand the thought of leaving, so I just kept refusing to get on the plane.”

“Funny,” he said, without even cracking a smile. “Everyone else who worked here couldn't wait to get back to civilization at the end of the season.”

“Not me.” She rinsed the final piece of halibut under the tap, then handed it to Finn to bag. “I love how the season's so busy and loud, and then the off-season is the complete opposite. It's so quiet, but the good quiet, you know, the kind that fills you up, not the empty kind of quiet that…”

She didn't finish, just shrugged and pressed her hand over her stomach.

Oh yeah, he knew all about that empty quiet, knew how it opened up a hole inside you until you were sure nothing would fill it. Funny thing was, that empty hole inside him had been filling up lately, and he didn't have to look any farther than the woman standing in front of him to know why.

“It's not in the cast; it's how you wiggle your worm.”

“Shit.”

That one muttered word seemed to have become Jessie's new mantra over the next week and a half for so many reasons.

The night she first dunked under the water, she'd let Finn hold her on his lap eons past where it was necessary, but, damn it all to hell, she liked sitting there with him. She liked the way she felt protected tucked up against him, she liked how she could feel his heart beating through his T-shirt, and she really liked the way his breath fluttered against her ear when he spoke.
Shit.

Ever since she'd dunked her head under the water, she'd had to push herself to do more and to go deeper. The last couple of nights she'd even let Finn piggyback her while he walked them deeper into the water, past where she would have been able to touch the bottom, but that was as far as she'd gotten.
Shit
.

She'd listened to him tell her about Maggie and in the process had opened her heart to the pain he so obviously still felt. Without hesitation, she'd do it again, even though it meant that every day since, something else about him found its way through and settled around her heart, whether it was the way his eyes were so soft when he looked at her, the way he hung around and helped with the dishes even when it wasn't his turn, or the way he could go three rounds with either one of his brothers and yet they'd come out on the other side just as tight as before. That was a crazy kind of love, but…
Shit!

And then, because she'd opened herself up, and because they had taken their relationship to a whole new level of trust, she'd gone and told him about Tracy. Her friends from grade school still didn't know she'd had a sister and they never would, because they'd never understand what it had been like or why Jessie kept it a secret for so long.

Finn understood. And he'd held her so tight, even when she tried to get away from him, because he knew he was the only thing holding all her messed-up pieces together, and if he had let her go, she would have crumbled right there on the fish-shack floor.

“Shit.”

Everything had been going so smoothly these last few months: They'd managed to get the Buoys back up and running (thanks to Kate and her savings account), their bookings were slowly increasing, and they had a lump of cash in the bank (thanks to Liam's stint with the Oakland A's this summer).

They were all getting along, not a hiccup in sight, and with a magnificent stroke of luck, Kate had even managed to snag the most watched fishing program to come and film at their lodge. Everything was great, so why was Jessie feeling like she was about to screw it all up?

Finn made her feel things she'd only read about in books; her heart beat faster, everything inside her seemed to ignite whenever she was anywhere near him, and God help her when they actually touched each other. And that smile…sweet Lord. Olivia was dead wrong on whose smile could rock a girl through a big “O”—it sure as hell wasn't Sam's.

Even so, could Jessie see Finn living a happily-ever-after with her or any woman? No.

Sam, on the other hand, in his blond-tipped beach-boy preppy-cute way, was a perfectly sweet guy. Her pulse didn't ratchet up even a single notch when he was around, and honestly, she'd never wanted to press her lips against his neck to savor the taste of him, because his neck always smelled like expensive cologne, and that wouldn't taste nearly as good as the natural salt air Finn wore.

Despite all that, she could definitely see Sam living the happily-ever-after. Hell, she could even see him standing there with three or four kids, all blond outdoorsy types with matching tackle boxes.

Yup, there was no doubt in her mind that Sam Ross would one day have a beautifully perfect family, and yet nowhere in that picture did she ever see herself. Why? Because her idea of beautiful and perfect had changed.

Where she used to think it was everything Sam Ross epitomized, everything you'd see on a magazine cover, now…now she knew it wasn't.

Beautiful was duct-tape-covered rain gear on a guy whose three-day-old stubble wasn't a fashion statement but a way of life. It was a man who wasn't always sweet—something Kate had gotten an up-close-and-personal view of when she first showed up at the Buoys—and it was a man who'd never even so much as hinted that he might want to do anything with Jessie other than clean and package the day's catch.

She'd spent more time with him than with Liam and Ronan combined, so why now did the mere mention of his name send her heart cartwheeling and make everything inside her feel like a blazing freaking inferno? Why couldn't she forget the way his breath fluttered against her neck, making everything inside her shiver? And why, for the love of all that was holy, couldn't she stop thinking about what it might feel like to kiss him, to slide her hands across his bare skin and—

“Sweet Jesus.”

Jessie grabbed for her water glass, sloshing some of it across her desk, and chugged every last bit before dropping her head down on the desk.

This wasn't just bad; it was
really
really
bad. Why couldn't she think of some other guy like that?
Any
other guy?

Anyone but Finn. God, please not Finn.

Shit. Shit. Shit
.

“Hey, Jessie.”

Olivia's voice startled her so badly that she jerked straight up, knocking her glass, the stapler, and the phone to the floor.

“Well, well, well,” Olivia snickered. “Did I interrupt something?”

“No. Nothing.” Jessie bent over to pick up the pieces as Olivia got down on her knees to rescue the phone from under the credenza.

“Nothing my ass.” With a disbelieving snort, Olivia held the phone out to Jessie but waved it back and forth a bit before releasing it. “Relax, I'm not going to tell anyone, but if you want some advice, I recommend a video call or at least put him on speaker so both your hands are free, and then—”

“What are you—” Jessie froze for a second as understanding finally dawned on her. “Oh!”

Phone sex?
Olivia seriously thought Jessie was having phone sex in the middle of the afternoon with the office door wide open? Clearly she didn't know Jessie as well as she thought, but it was astronomically safer to let her keep thinking that than to fess up to the truth.

After tossing the glass shards in the bin, Jessie gave her head a quick shake and forced a laugh.

“I'll keep that in mind,” she said as she slumped back in her chair. “Did you need me for something?”

Olivia didn't bite.

“Call him back,” she said. “And tell him to get on a flight!”

“Uh, no, I don't think so.”

“Why the hell not?”

If Olivia's tone hadn't been quite so conspiratorial, or if Jessie wasn't sitting there letting Olivia believe there'd been something hot and heavy going on in the office a minute ago, the whole thing might have been funny.

“Because I've got”—a quick glance at her empty desk stopped that lie before it went any further—“to help Finn tonight.”

“Screw that—Finn's a big boy; he can take care of whatever it is by himself. You've got twenty-four hours before the next planeload arrives; get that boy up here and have yourself a little fun.”

Jessie just lifted her eyebrows as she pushed the stapler up beside the tape dispenser.

“We'll see. What did you need me for?”

Olivia hesitated a second, then shook her head almost mournfully. “Just wondered if there was anything else you wanted us to pick up. Liam's almost ready to go.”

Shit
. As if Jessie didn't have enough to freak out about already, Kate and Liam were heading to Port Hardy on a supply run, and Olivia had decided to go with them so she could spend a little time with her girlfriend, who'd driven up from Nanaimo.

That meant Finn would be the only one left at the Buoys with Jessie all night.

“Earth to Jessie. Anything?”

“Oh, right.” Jessie shook her head to clear it, then nodded. “Pizza. Extra olives.”

“That's it?” Olivia had already started back toward the kitchen when the phone on Jessie's desk rang.

“Thank you for calling the Buoys; this is Jessie.”

She missed what the person on the other end said, because Olivia was hollering back over her shoulder.

“Put him on speaker! Hands-free is the way to go!”

Thankfully there was no need to consider Olivia's suggestion, because the fellow on the phone only had one thing on his mind—and that was trying to convince Jessie to switch from the bank she currently used to the one he represented, which offered six months of free checking.

After trying to get a word in twice and failing because he kept talking over her, she hung up and then sat there staring at the phone for a long time. Maybe Olivia was right; maybe she should call Sam and see if he could come up tonight.

But it wouldn't be to have the fun Olivia suggested. The only reason Jessie wanted to see him was to find out what he wanted to talk to her about and if any part of him sparked any part of her, anything at all. Didn't have to be a five-alarm blaze; she'd settle for a barely there smolder at this point.

Anything to help prove that the only reason she was all
whew
about Finn was that he'd become a hero to her. He'd saved her and protected her when she was at her most vulnerable, so it only stood to reason she'd develop some sort of hero-worship thing and be all hot and bothered by him now.

Right?

Of course that's right.

And maybe a couple of minutes of face-to-face with someone as good-looking as Sam would prove that she could feel all that
whew
stuff about him instead.

Okay then, it was settled. She lifted the phone, but that was as far as she got. What if Sam got up here and wanted to go out on one of the boats? She wasn't up for dealing with that tonight.

Besides, she didn't want him thinking she was desperate to see him, because she actually wasn't, and no matter what she did and didn't know about hooking up with guys, she was pretty sure that inviting one up to a secluded lodge for the night would be a pretty good indicator that she wanted to do more than have coffee with him. Especially since they already had a history together.

“Oh God.” Moaning, she slumped over the desk again, gently bashing her forehead against the wood. Who was she kidding? There wasn't a single situation she could imagine herself in that would ever make her feel anything for Sam. Even when they'd dated, she'd liked him plenty, sure, but it was so much different from whatever this craziness was she was feeling for Finn.

But anything could happen, right? If her feelings for Finn could come on so fast, they could go away just as fast, right?

Huffing out a long sigh, Jessie dropped the phone back into its cradle and knocked a couple of times on the old oak desk.

“You said you'd trust me with your life.”

“I would!” she cried. “I do!”

“Then prove it,” he said. “Trust me with your life.”

“But…”

They were exactly where they'd been the last two nights—him standing up to his neck in the water, and her holding on to him because she couldn't quite reach the bottom. Unlike the previous times, though, it was midafternoon and he wasn't piggybacking her; instead, he made her face him, arms straight, her hands on his shoulders, his hands around her hips.

The space between them scared the crap out of her, so when she started kicking her legs around, searching for something on which to stabilize her feet, he'd let her put them flat on his thighs. It was an awkward way to stand, but it was enough to calm her out of a panic attack.

He knew she hated it, but he also knew she'd hate it more if she didn't take this next step.

“I'm right here, Jess, and I swear to God I won't let anything happen to you.”

“But—”

“There's no but. You either trust me or you don't.”

He'd never pushed her before, but he'd never had to. She'd come so far since they started, but she'd stalled the last couple of nights, afraid to let him go and take the next step on her own. So even though he hated doing it, he opened his hands and released her. The only connections between them now were her hands on his shoulders and her feet on his thighs. He'd done as much as he could; the rest was up to her.

Terror filled her eyes, and her breath came out in short, sharp rasps.

“If you stand up right now, the water'll be somewhere around the middle of your forehead.” He kept his voice calm and low. “All you have to do is pull your knees up and let yourself drop a little ways, then put your feet on the bottom and push up. I'll be right here.”

“I can't.” Her voice, so small, so cold, almost broke him, but Finn knew she had it in her; he only wished he didn't have to be the one to force it out.

“Jessie Todd can do anything she sets her mind to. Just let go.”

He almost caved when she looked at him like that, as if he were abandoning her and leaving her to flounder all by herself, but he couldn't. This was it.

“I won't move an inch,” he said. “I'll be right here. You can do this; trust me.”

Fear, anger, and—
finally,
there it was—the iron-hard determination he'd hoped to see all melded in her eyes. Her anger burned the brightest, which meant he'd be on the receiving end of her wrath when this was over, but he was fine with that. It'd be so worth it.

A few more seconds ticked by. Finn didn't say anything; he kept his eyes fixed steadily on hers and nodded slowly. Fear started to take over, but then she shook her head, took a huge breath, plugged her nose, and let him go.

Five seconds—that's how long she was under. The longest five seconds of Finn's entire fucking life.