Lured In (6 page)

Better to be the
bolter
than the
boltee
.

It was too bad, because Finn was good people. He had a low-key smart-ass quality to him that never failed to make Jessie laugh. Smart, thoughtful, and always happy to sit and read with her in the great room, he had the patience of Job, something he proved over and over again, like when he'd first taught her how to fillet a salmon properly.

Or when he agreed to help her with this.

And, okay, yeah, she could admit it: Finn O'Donnell wasn't exactly hard to look at, either.

Where Ronan looked more like Maggie, and Liam more like Jimmy, Finn had fallen somewhere in between. At close to six feet, he didn't quite match either of his brothers in height, but he'd proven more than once that he could easily hold his own in a fight with either one of them.

He'd never been one to put much effort into his appearance, but at least he'd started letting Jessie and Kate trim his hair once in a while instead of buzzing it military-short by himself. It wasn't that he looked awful with a buzz cut, because he didn't—he'd probably look good bald—but Jessie just liked the look of his hair when it was a little longer and she could see its chestnutty hues.

His blue-green eyes were almost the same color as the water out in the cove, and even though Jessie wasn't fussy about stubble, on him…it
definitely
worked. Especially when he smiled like that; like—

“Look at you.” Finn's voice jolted her to her senses so fast she stumbled back a bit, but he never let go of her hands. “Whoa. You okay?”

“Uh, yeah.” Blinking hard, she gave herself a mental shake as everything around her came into focus. “I'm…oh my God…
what am I doing?
”

“You're wading.”

Jessie froze in place, causing just enough of a wake to make the water lap against her legs, about halfway up her shins.

“No! I—”

The whole time she'd been staring at him, mentally tabulating everything he had going for him and sinking farther into the color of his eyes and that damn smile, she'd also been inching deeper and deeper into the lake without even knowing it.

And it was all because she'd been looking at
him,
thinking about
him,
what that smile did to her and how much she'd like to run her fingers through his hair and—

What?
No! That was…crazy. Those weren't things she thought about with Finn.
Not Finn
. And yet there she was, shin-deep in water.

“Oh
shit,
” she muttered. “That's um…
wow
…okay…um…”

“Just keep breathing.” His voice, as deep and smooth as always, eased the frown she felt across her forehead and forced some of the confusion from her head. “Do you want to come out a little deeper?”

“No!” She might still be baffled about how she got out as deep as she already had, but she wasn't the least bit confused about going any deeper. In fact…“I think I need to get out now.”

“You sure? You're doing great.”

“Yeah, I'm…yeah.” She took a step back, tugging him with her because he still had hold of her hands. “I…
ouch
.”

Pulling her right hand free, she held it out to her side, hoping it would help balance her, and turned so she was walking forward again. She'd made it all the way into the water, avoiding almost all the sharp rocks along the way, but now that she was trying to get out, it was as if her feet actually sought out the sharpest of the sharp.

“Careful.” Why was he laughing? This wasn't funny. And why wasn't he hitting any sharp ones?

It couldn't have been more than a dozen steps to dry land, yet it seemed to take forever to get there, and when she finally made it, Finn was right beside her, holding her hand even after she was balanced again.

“There you go,” he said. “You did great.”

“Yeah,” she scoffed, slamming the door on images of Tracy that tried to creep in. “Great. Piece of cake.”

Let go of his hand.

The order went straight from her brain to her fingers, which immediately sprang straight out, but it was another couple of seconds before Finn let her go, and when he did…

No
. It was nothing. It was just because he'd been her balance, her strength, and her soothing voice of calm when she'd needed it in the water; that was why it felt cold and lonely when he let her go.

She'd done it; she'd actually made it into the water. More important, she'd made it out again. The rush of relief sent tears spilling down her cheeks and caused her fingers to tremble so much that she dropped her towel twice before getting a good grip on it.

With a few quick wobbly wipes, she dried her eyes before Finn could see, then ran the towel over her legs and feet before pulling her sneakers back on.

“Here,” he said, holding out his hand. “Give me your towel. That way if we run into one of the others on the way back…”

“Right. Thanks.”

Jessie was still trembling as they passed the work shed, and it only got worse when Finn suggested they meet at the lake every night that they could.

It was rare for guests to wander that far from the lodge, and Kate and Liam preferred to be alone in their A-frame every night, but if someone else was at the lake before Jessie and Finn got there, they'd just say they were out for a walk.

In the kitchen, as they washed up their mugs, Jessie finally managed to sigh out most of her lingering anxiety.

“Thank you,” she said, albeit a little quieter than she'd meant to, “for not letting me chicken out and for not forcing me to stay in longer.”

Finn slid the mugs into the cupboard, then took a couple of steps back and shrugged.

“Forcing you?” His brow pulled down in a small frown. “Have I ever forced you to do anything?”

No. Of course he hadn't. Liam probably would have forced her a bit, and there was no way Ronan would have waited all that time for her to get her toes wet, but Finn…

Finn was different. He might not always agree with her, but he always seemed to know when to push her and when to hold back and give her space to do things her own way on her own time. That wasn't to say they didn't butt heads every once in a while, but even when they did, it never turned spiteful or mean, because beneath it all, they really liked each other. And though she'd never labeled him as such before, if she was completely honest, Finn was the best friend she'd ever had.

Didn't mean she wouldn't get a dig in when she could, though.

“Well,” she said, pushing her best accusatory tone, “there was that time you made me play that Apollo Creed video game with you for thirty-six thousand hours.”

His deep rolling laugh filled her with the same little burst of joy it always did, only more so this time because she was the one who'd made him laugh.

“Okay, first off,” he said, “Apollo Creed died in
Rocky IV;
we were playing Apollo 2, the game
you
picked because it has that kick-ass chick in it. And, second, you barely made it to Sector Selwyn before you bailed.”

“Whatever. My point is you still forced me.”

His wide grin was the same damn one she'd seen countless times, so why now did it feel like it was warming her from the inside out?

“You're right,” he conceded. “I'm sorry. I never should have held that gun to your head; that was very, very wrong of me.”

“See, normally I'd tell you that being a smart-ass like that only canceled out the apology, but I'm going to let it slide this time because I'm so tired.”

“I'm sure you are.” It was funny how his voice could go from teasing to soothing even though his smile stayed the same.

“And because, seriously”—Jessie inhaled a deep breath and nodded slowly—“thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

As drained as she was, Jessie could have easily curled up in the tenderness in his eyes and the gentle cadence of his voice, which was exactly why she forced herself to look away.

Most nights they'd each grab a book and settle into their spots in the great room, but not tonight. Tonight she just wanted to crawl into bed and try to wrap her head around not only what she'd done but also around the fact she could still feel Finn's hand around hers, strong and steady.

“Right, then,” she said, tapping her fingers lightly against her thighs. “I think I'll go to bed.”

“Yeah,” Finn muttered. “I think I'll join you.”

They both froze for a second, Jessie's smirk making Finn blush as he fumbled his way around his gaffe.

“In walking down the stairs to our separate bedrooms.”

Still smiling, she went first, not saying a word until they got down to the family quarters.

“ 'Night, Finn.” She'd just pushed open her door when his voice stopped her.

“Jess.”

“Hmm?” When she turned, he was standing at the bottom of the stairs, leaning back against the railing, his hands jammed down in his pockets.

“Look,” he said. “No matter what, we're going to do this.”

Every muscle in Jessie's body started to tighten again as she sucked her lips in behind her teeth and waited for the “but” to come.

It didn't. At least not in the way she expected.

“You've always made it pretty clear you never wanted to talk about why you don't go in the water, and we've never pushed, because…well…none of us have ever been any good at the whole ‘sharing' thing.”

“Really?” she teased. “I'd hardly noticed.”

His mouth twitched a little, but he didn't laugh.

“I guess we always thought you'd tell us when you were ready.”

His voice was just as calm, just as gentle as it usually was when he talked to her, but this time there was a tinge of something else—sadness, maybe—that reached in and sliced open a bit of her heart. In all the years she'd been at the Buoys, she'd never once considered that her refusal to talk about it might bother them in the same way it bothered her that they wouldn't talk about Maggie.

“Finn.” She didn't even know if she said it out loud, because he gave no indication he'd heard her.

“You get this look on your face.” He stopped, glanced down at the floor, and licked his lips before looking up again. “It was there last spring when I went off the dock, and it was there again tonight. It's like you're…I don't know…kind of like you're reliving whatever it is over and over, and it never seems to get easier for you.”

He was bang on with that; no matter how much time passed, it hadn't gotten even a tiny bit easier. But not talking about it was still a hell of a lot easier than telling someone—
anyone
—that she was the reason her sister was dead.

“If you don't want to talk about it, that's your business, but I don't know how you'll ever really get through this if you don't.”

Jessie's throat, clogged with fear, opened just enough for her to croak out, “I don't know if I can.”

There it was again: the way his eyes smiled at her, not in any kind of joking way but with a warm, confident glow.

“You didn't think you'd ever get in the water again, either, but you did.”

“Yeah,” she murmured, wishing she could smile back at him. “I did.”

“Maybe all you need to do is find someone you trust enough.” Finn lifted his hands in resignation as he took a couple of backward steps down the hall. “See you in the morning.”

“Uh, yeah. Okay. 'Night.” Jessie stepped inside her room, closed the door, then slumped against it.

What did he mean by that? Did he think she didn't trust him? Good grief, there was no one she trusted more than Finn. Sure, she trusted Ronan and Liam, but could she tell either of them about Tracy? It wasn't that they wouldn't listen, because she knew they would. She just wasn't sure how they could possibly understand.

Finn, on the other hand…She'd seen with her own eyes the way he'd accepted the blame Jimmy heaped on him. He knew what it was like to carry that blame around every minute of every day, to wear it like a second skin. And he knew that it didn't matter how much time passed or what anyone else said: When you looked in your parents' eyes, you saw the truth.

That was something a kid never forgot, no matter how old she got or how many hours she'd spent in a therapist's office.

“Men, like fish, get into trouble when they open their mouths.”

From the second Finn opened his eyes the next morning, he planned on doing one thing: keeping his big ol' piehole shut. If Jess didn't want to talk about what happened to her, that was her business, not his. Had he ever told anyone what happened the night Ma left?

Hell no. Would it make a spit of difference to any of them at this point? The thirty-year-old man in him said probably not, but the ten-year-old in his head still lived in fear that once the truth got out, Ronan and Liam would hate him for not only being the reason Ma left but for being the reason Da laid so many beatings on them.

Nope, best to let that sleeping dog lie.

Shaking it off, he followed his nose into the kitchen, where the rest of them had already gathered.

“What's the occasion?” Liam asked Jess. “You haven't made perked coffee since…well, hell, I don't even know.”

High days and holy days, that was the only time she ever pulled out the percolator. Every other day was plain old drip coffee.

“I don't see what the big deal is,” Kate muttered. “It tastes the same as regular coffee.”

“The hell it does,” Finn choked as he reached to fill a mug.

Jess sidled up next to him, nudging his hip with her own as she rinsed her cloth out at the sink. When he glanced down at her, she mouthed a silent “thank you,” to which he responded with a quick wink and a grin that he hid behind his mug.

“Did you get the contracts back to the
Hooked
people?” Liam asked. “Are we set?”

“Uh, yeah.” With a short head bob and a fresh blush she tried to hide, Jess set to wiping the table and the counters, even though Finn couldn't see crumbs or spills anywhere. “Sam emailed last night to say everything was a go.”

“Nice.”

“And?” Kate asked, quirking her eyebrow and smirking over the top of her mug.

“And,”
Jess shot back, full of tone, “one of his producers will fly up in a couple weeks to go over everything and to make sure they don't need any special rigging for their cameras on the boats. The crew will arrive on the twenty-third, then they'll film the twenty-fourth and -fifth.”

“And?”
Olivia this time, her teasing grin grating on Finn's nerves so much he had to look away.

As stupid as he knew it was, Finn wanted to believe that that was all the email had in it, but going by how deeply Jess was blushing now, Sam must have had more on his mind than just filming schedules.

When Finn came up with the idea of reaching out to the various fishing shows, he never expected Kate to land
Hooked
. And while he knew it was great for the Buoys, there was a big part of him that wished they would have snagged a different show instead.

And even as that self-serving thought flitted through his mind, Finn wanted to kick himself. He didn't know Sam super well, but from what he did know, he seemed like a good guy, and if Jess's blushing was any indication, maybe things were heating up between them.

Living out at the Buoys limited her options when it came to men, so if Finn were any kind of friend, he'd be happy for her that Sam was coming up. She deserved a good guy in her life, and, okay, so maybe Sam wasn't the guy Finn would have picked for her, but who was?

Before that train of thought completely derailed, Finn shut down that part of his brain. Whatever it was about Jess that had him thinking about her differently—and, worse, looking at her differently—it had to be a passing thing, just like the first time, right?

All he needed to do was keep his mouth shut and not let on that his juvenile-type crush had come around again, because, just like the old man before them, Ro and Liam wouldn't put up with shit like that—especially not from Finn.

So he'd keep his head down and everything would go back to the way it used to be. The way it should be.

If he were lucky, maybe one of the women guests coming up in the next few weeks would be enough to turn his head. Hell, there'd be an unprecedented five women arriving today; surely to God one of them would be interesting.

“Finn!”

“Huh?” He jerked up so fast that he sent coffee sloshing over the side of his mug and singeing his fingers. “Jesus, Liam.
What?
”

“You tell me,” his brother grunted. “That's twice in two days you've zoned out on us. What the hell's wrong with you?”

“Nothing. What do you want?”

The look Jess flashed him as she handed him a cloth said she didn't buy that for a second, but thankfully she didn't call him on it.

“I said I'll go grab the bedding from the dryer and help you finish up the cabins.”

“Can I finish my coffee first?”

“Bring it with you,” Liam said, heading out of the kitchen.

“Ugh,” Finn groaned as he shook his head at Kate. “With the amount of time you two spend locked up in your cabin, you'd think he'd be worn out once in a while.”

“You'd think so, wouldn't you?” Kate shrugged as she laughed. “But, injured or not, that boy's got stamina.”

She hadn't even finished before Finn and Jessie were yelling over the top of her.

“Don't—”

“Ewww!”

All it did was make Kate laugh harder. “Finn started it.”

“And I'm ending it.” After refilling his mug, he lifted it in salute to Jess, who sort of smiled back as he headed out to catch up with Liam.

Making up the beds wasn't difficult, but it was that much faster with help. They were just finishing up the third cabin when Liam threw a curveball Finn wasn't even close to being ready for.

“So what d'you think about Jessie and Sam?”

I fuckin' hate it
.

Before that thought got away from him and blurted out of his mouth, Finn wrestled it into silence.

“It's none of my business.”

“I know, but it's Jessie.
Our
Jessie.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Finn said, grinding the words out between clenched teeth. “I'm familiar with who she is.”

“And
Sam-freakin'-Ross
.”

“What's so surprising about that? You're the one who shoved him at her in the first place, so what did you think was gonna happen?”

“I don't know.” Liam's casual shrug made Finn want to punch him. “Has she said anything to you about him since she moved back here?”

“No.”

“Me neither, so I just kinda thought…I don't know. Ro said they broke up, but maybe they got back together.”

Finn didn't respond, but that didn't slow Liam down.

“She hasn't left once, and he hasn't flown in, so they can't have seen each other since…what? End of March? Beginning of April?”

Finn knew exactly when she'd last seen him: March 29, the night Da died.

“I'm not her freakin' secretary, Liam; how the hell would I know who she sees or when?”

“I don't know; it's just that you guys are pretty tight, so I thought maybe she—”

“No.”

“Really? You spend almost every night in the great room with her; she's never said anything about him to you?”

“We don't talk the whole time; we read.”

“I know, but…
nothing
?”

“No.” This was getting really old really fast.

“Weird. I guess I figured if she said anything to anyone, it'd be you.”

Finn didn't answer, mainly because Liam hadn't actually asked a question but also because Finn knew if he opened his mouth, nothing good would come out of it.

“Kate says he's kept in touch with Jessie a little since she came back.” Liam tossed the comforter up on the bed and pulled up his side. “And did you see how red she got when she mentioned his email? Nobody blushes like that unless there's something going on.”

Finn clamped his teeth down on the inside of his cheek and gave the comforter a hard yank until it lay perfectly flat, but still, Liam kept on going.

“Kate wouldn't tell me everything Jessie said, but it sounds like Sam might still be into her. Do you think she's—”

“Jeez, man—I don't give a fuck, okay? I don't know how into him she is, and I sure as hell don't know how far he is into her.” The innuendo of what he'd just said scraped against Finn's brain like a pickax over concrete. “
Fuck
. Go ask Kate—she's the one who seems to know everything.”

With three hard shoves, he had the pillow stuffed in its case and threw it back on the bed, leaving it for Liam to straighten.

“Relax,” Liam muttered. “What the hell's your prob—”

Finn wouldn't look at him, even though he knew Liam was staring at him, waiting for some kind of direction on where he should go with that unfinished thought. But Finn's only direction was to get the hell out of that cabin and away from Liam, whose sudden silence made it pretty clear he'd already figured out which direction this was going.

And it was going south real fast.

“Holy shit! Finn, wait!”

Oh yeah, that wasn't going to happen. There were still things to do before the next load of guests arrived this afternoon, and that's what Finn planned to focus on, nothing else. Liam, of course, had other plans.

Half a dozen steps outside the cabin, Liam caught him by the arm and spun him halfway around, making them both stumble. “Are you shittin' me?”

Finn wrenched his arm free and kept walking, but it didn't matter how fast he moved. Liam matched him step for step all the way around the cove, down the dock, and into the fish shack, where he closed the door behind both of them.

Finn grabbed the first thing he could get his hands on—a spare rod holder for the downrigger—and wrestled with himself over whether to hurl it across the shack or not.

He didn't, but only because he knew it would've ticked Jess off. And that on its own made him want to throw it even harder. But he didn't. Instead, he wrapped both hands around that stupid piece of plastic and squeezed until his knuckles ached.

The only thing worse than Liam blathering on about Jess and Sam-freakin'-Ross was Liam not saying anything about anything. He just leaned back against the door while Finn prowled around the confines of the fish shack, trying to scrub his imagination clean of anything that had to do with Jess and Sam together. The best way to do that would be to think of something else—anything else.

Like making sure the sink was good and clean for the next batch of fish coming in. Sure, they cleaned it after every load, but it could never be too clean, right?

“Finn.”

Nope, he wasn't having it. If Liam wanted to talk, he'd have to find a different topic, because Finn was done talking about Jess and Sam-freakin'-Ross.

“Instead of standing there doing nothing,” Finn said as he finished up the sink, “why don't you go see if we need to restock the boat coolers with herring?”

Kate would have no doubt restocked the herring along with the various other baits and lures on each of the boats yesterday, but it never hurt to double-check. Too bad Liam didn't bite.

“You gotta be out of your fuckin' mind.”

Finn didn't know why Liam was whispering—it wasn't as if anyone else was around—but instead of answering, Finn opened the cupboard above the sink and said the first thing he could think of.

“We're low on rags. I think there might still be a load in the wash; we should grab those before the guests arrive.”

Liam ignored him. “Jessie?
Our
Jessie?”

Closing the first cupboard, Finn moved on to the others, silently cursing Kate for having tidied everything so well the night before that there was nothing for him to do, nothing to clean, nothing to fix. Still, he went through each one, as though the time spent with his face hidden by the cupboard doors would be enough to bore Liam out of the shack.

No such luck.

“How long has this been going on?” Liam asked. “Does she even know?”

“Do you know if Kate added line to the next order? The halibut reels are all loaded, but we've been going through eighty-pound test like crazy the last couple of weeks.”

“She doesn't, does she?”

“We should probably—”

“Finn!” Liam shoved away from the door and took a step toward him. “I don't give a shit about what kind of fishing line we're low on right now.”

Inhaling slowly, Finn closed the last cupboard and forced himself to turn around. He folded his arms over his chest, leaned back against the counter, and, after a long, tortured exhale, finally blinked up at Liam, whose eyes were as big as Finn had ever seen them.

“Then pick something else or get the hell out of my way,” he warned. “ 'Cause I've got shit to do.”

When Liam didn't say anything, Finn made to walk by him, but Liam lifted his arm straight out, blocking Finn in.

“Seriously, man, this is nuts.”

“Are you going to move?” Finn asked, trying really hard to keep his voice calm and steady. “Or am I going to have to move you?”

He didn't even care that it was Liam's bad arm blocking him in; if it didn't get the hell out of his way soon, he'd make that torn rotator cuff seem like a hangnail. Typical Liam, though, he just continued to ignore Finn.

“Not Jessie,” he said, his two words as threatening as Finn had ever heard him speak. “She's the glue that's held this place together since forever, and you…if you screw that up…”

He didn't finish, but he didn't have to. Finn knew what was at stake, and he also knew it didn't matter, because Jess was never going to find out anything Finn had been thinking about her.

“She knows us too well,” Liam said, shaking his head slowly. “Don't you remember sitting in the kitchen last spring when she tried to warn Kate away from us?”

'Course Finn remembered; while Liam sat there eating his spaghetti, Finn had all but accused Kate, and womankind in general, of everything that was wrong with the world. Kate had been shocked and pissed right off at what he'd said, but none of it surprised Jess. She already knew that the three O'Donnells were batshit crazy and that there wasn't a woman in the world any of them trusted.