Reckless Hearts (29 page)

While
I’m reeling, he gives me a wink and strolls back outside.

Delilah
lets out a slow whistle and fans herself with a condo brochure.
“Hello, lover.” She leans against the desk like she’s
swooning. “The road’s been good to that boy.
Real
good.”

“I
guess.” I grab the file, and pray we’ve got some decent
listings. Hopefully, he’ll want the first place I show him, and
this nightmare will be over in twenty minutes flat.

“Well,
never let it be said I don’t make sacrifices for our
friendship,” Delilah adds, dramatic. “I saw the way he
was staring. He’s all yours.”

“What?
No!” My head snaps up. “You’re wrong.”

“Mmhmm.”
Delilah just laughs, and goes to rifle through her purse. “Come
on, the man’s waiting. You can borrow my lipstick.”

Part
of me wants to walk straight outside looking like this, to show Finn
I don’t care at all, but the other part – the one still
reeling from that smile – needs a moment to pull myself
together. “Thanks,” I tell Delilah, and race to the
bathroom. I slam the door, and face myself in the mirror.

Oh
boy.

I
drag my hair up into a ponytail and quickly slick lipstick on –
then blot it all off again. I can feel the storm of emotions whirling
in my stomach, and I run the cold water to cool off my sweaty hands.

My
reflection isn’t the problem; it’s the illegally hot guy
waiting outside. It shouldn’t be a big deal. I used to have
game, and flirt with cute strangers in bars all the time, but that
was years ago. And besides, Finn isn’t a stranger – he
knows me right down to the core.

Why
is he back here, after all these years?

I
close my eyes. Finn didn’t just leave town that night after
graduation. He erased himself completely. No note, no calls, no
casual updates online. He vanished so thoroughly, he didn’t
even tell his father where he’d gone. I don’t blame him
for that, since the two of them were never close. Lord knows Hank
McKay wasn’t exactly the warm, fuzzy type. But still, how could
he do that to me?

A tap at the door breaks through my thoughts. I startle, splashing
water as Delilah’s voice comes. “I know it’s a
lady’s right to keep a man waiting, but he’s been cooling
his heels out there ten minutes now.”

I
pause. Not for the first time, I wish we’d been closer friends
back in high-school. Delilah was a year ahead of me, so she never
knew what happened with Finn. Nobody did – we kept it secret. I
didn’t want the small-town gossip, and sneaking around only
made things more fun – and more lonely when he left. I didn’t
reconnect with Dee until I moved back here after college, and by
then, I didn’t want to drag the past up all over again. Now, I
wish she knew the whole story, instead of expecting me to swoon and
drool right along with her.

I
shut off the faucet and open the door. “How do I look?” I
ask, reluctant.

Delilah
doesn’t do tact, but I must look pretty pathetic because she
gives me a big grin. “Perfect! Irresistible! Now go get him.”
She sends me off with a slap on my ass.

As
I head back out front, I feel more like a sacrifice getting tossed to
the lions.
You can do
this
.
You’re
not a kid anymore
, I
tell myself, trying to pump myself up again. Y
ou’re
a grown woman with class, and style, and you’ve got moves he’s
never seen.

Not
that I’m going to use them. What kind of asshole leaves and
never even picks up the phone? I dial back every missed call, even
when it’s a timeshare scam in Albuquerque. You’d think he
could have returned a message from the girl he swore he’d love
forever.

But
when I open the door, and step outside, and find Finn by the curb,
leaning again a classic grey Mustang – a molten-whiskey look in
his blue eyes– I take it all back.

Is
it too late to pick the lions?

“So
what kind of property are you looking for?” I ask brightly,
approaching him. I clutch my file to my chest like it could possibly
shield me from that seductive smile and piercing eyes.

Finn
doesn’t answer. He just opens the passenger door for me. “You
cut your hair,” he remarks as I duck into the car.

“You
didn’t,” I say pointedly.

“Touché.”
He laughs, closing the door behind me and circling around to the
driver’s side. I watch him, déjà vu rushing
through me like a wildfire, hot and insistent. I must have sat in the
passenger seat of his car a hundred times or more, all those late
nights we’d slip away to the creek or out past the shoreline
drive. I would have said once that it was my favorite place in the
world, sitting right there beside him with my feet up on the
dashboard, humming along to whatever old country songs his beat-up AM
radio could pull from the wire.

“Nice
upgrade, huh?” Finn must be reading my mind as he settles
behind the wheel. “That old thing took me as far as Georgia
before the engine crapped out on me in the middle of highway
seventy-five.”

Georgia.
I have to bite my tongue to keep from asking if that’s where he
went. Instead, I pull out the first listing. “It’s
waterfront, new build. Just take the beach road out past the harbor.”

“Yes
ma’am.” Finn doesn’t seem shaken by my cool tone.
He cruises through the center of town, one hand on the wheel, the
other resting out of the open window. “So, you’re a
realtor now? Somehow I didn’t picture you behind a desk selling
condos.”

I
shrug. “It’s a job. I work the office, mainly. Admin,
phones. I was lucky Delilah got me the gig. She’s the real
mastermind there.”

“Now
that, I can picture. How’s the acting?” he asks, looking
over. “I always wondered if I’d see your name up in
lights on Broadway one of these days.”

I
feel a pang, remembering my life in New York City after high-school –
the one he knows nothing about. “I’m not doing it
anymore. It was just a hobby,” I answer briskly. “So what
are you looking for in a house?” I change the subject. “A
dock? Outside space? Room for big parties?”

“I’ll
know it when I see it.”

Great.

We
keep driving. Oak Harbor is a small coastal community near the mouth
of the Cape Fear River, with a bustling waterfront, cute clapboard
houses, and a few stores and restaurants leading back from the rocky
shoreline. It used to be an old fishing town, but these days, tourism
is the main draw. People come from all over to fish off the
boardwalk, take the ferry out to see the old lighthouse, and visit
the wide Atlantic beaches just across the sound.

“This
place hasn’t changed at all,” Finn remarks, looking
outside as we cruise slowly along the sleepy main street.

“Small
town life,” I shrug. “We got a new pizza place that stays
open past ten on the weekends.”

“Living
life on the edge.” Finn laughs. Our eyes catch. Electricity
crackles, straight from his clear blue eyes down the back of my
spine, and I feel the rush everywhere: hot and sweet, pulling low
between my thighs.

I
look away.

“How are your folks?”
he asks, gripping the steering wheel with both hands now.

“Good.”
I take a breath, calming myself. “My dad got a promotion to the
head office in Savannah, so they’ve moved out there for six
months, to see how they like the place.”

“And
Lottie? She’s, what, nineteen now? She must be off at college.”

“No,”
I answer quietly. “She’s here in town too.” I
quickly change the subject away from my little sister. “It’s
this turning, just up ahead.”

Finn
follows my directions up to the first property: a boxy chrome and
glass condo set on the waterfront, with a balcony looking straight
out across the bay. He peers up at it over the steering wheel and
shakes his head. “Not for me.”

“But
you haven’t even seen inside,” I protest. “The
view’s amazing.”

“I
told you, I’ll know it when I see it.”

Finn
looks at me again, and the intensity in his gaze is enough to make me
wonder, why he’s back here of all places? He could be off
relaxing in the Caribbean, or sunning himself on a private yacht. Why
did he come to our little mom and pop shop instead of one of the big,
flashy realtors up the coast? Why, even after everything he did, does
my heart race, and my blood pump faster? Just one look from him could
make all my heartbreak melt away.

He
clears his throat, and starts the engine again. “Where to
next?”

We
visit another five houses, but Finn doesn’t even make it inside
to look at half of them.

“Fame’s
changed you.” I’m only half-kidding as we drive away from
a great beach-front mansion I would kill to live in. “I guess
you’re jaded by all the fancy hotels and private jets.”

“Sounds
like someone’s been reading the tabloids.” Finn grins.

I
flush. “I’ve seen a couple of things around. You know, in
passing,” I add carefully. “That stuff’s not true
is it?”

He
gives me a wink. “Every word, sweetheart.”

I
know he’s only teasing, but I still can’t help thinking
of all the things I’ve read over the years, stories of Finn
dating Hollywood actresses and frolicking backstage with sexy models.
I block those images and sneak a look at him instead, that familiar
profile and easy posture. His free hand taps out a rhythm on the
window frame. He always did have restless hands; he used to say it’s
why he first picked up a guitar. He would play for me, just idly
strumming as we killed time on those hot, late nights, sprawled out
in the grass miles outside of town, watching fireflies spiral in the
midnight sky.

I
suddenly get an idea. “I know the place,” I declare.
“Take the highway north, just past the bridge.”

Finn
does as I say, and soon, we’re pulling up the winding driveway
of an old house backing onto the creek. We came here once, years ago.
We wandered the empty, run-down rooms before sitting down by the
dock, our feet dunked in the cool water. Now the house sits under
shady cypress trees, the paint fresh and the front path newly mown.

“The
Thomas mansion?” Finn asks, slowly getting out of the car. I
scramble out too. “This place was falling apart the last time I
saw it.”

“They
finally sold it, a few years back. Some developer took it back to the
studs, but they did a really nice job. It still has all the original
floors, and that great porch wrapping around the back.”

I
lead him up to the front door and step inside. I can already see it
on his face, that this is the place, but still, I take him through
the warm living areas, furnished with classic, beachy furniture, and
out back, to where rhododendron bushes and rolling grass lead all the
way down to the wide expanse of slow-winding creek.

Finn
breathes in the salty marsh air and looks out over the water, like
he’s already home. “I’ll take it.”

“Don’t
you want to know how much it is?” I ask.

He
shrugs, his big-shot lifestyle peeking through. “I’m sure
it’ll be fine. Ask if they’ll lease it for a couple of
months.”

I nod. It’s a big property
to be rattling around all alone -- but maybe he won’t be. I
realize that for all I know, he could have a gorgeous, sexy
girlfriend just waiting back at the hotel. “So, just so I know
what to tell the owners…will you be staying here alone?”
I ask, trying to be casual. The grin he gives me says I failed,
miserably.

“I
should have someone out next week.”

My
heart sinks.

“To
hook up the cable. I can’t be without my TV.”

Finn’s
eyes gleam with humor. He’s teasing me, dammit.

“Great!”
I refuse to show I’m ruffled. “Then we’re all set.”

I
turn on my heel to head back out front, but Finn pauses. “Wait
a second. Don’t you want to show me the rest of the property?
Upstairs, all the bedrooms?”

Me
and Finn, alone in a room with a king-sized bed? I’ve had
dreams like that, and I know exactly how things wind up: the both of
us tangled up naked, sweaty, and gasping with pleasure. But there are
consequences to the most perfect moment of release – and I
learned that lesson the hard way. “Sorry,” I reply, my
cheeks burning. “I can’t stay. I have to be somewhere.
I’m already running late.”

“Sure
thing.”

Finn
drives us back to the office, still perfectly at ease. But as the
miles pass, his nonchalance burns me. Since the moment he walked in
he’s been behaving like everything’s fine between us,
like it’s no big deal to just show up and act like nothing’s
wrong. Or maybe it isn’t, to him. What happened between us may
have made an indelible mark on my heart, but what if he barely gave
it a second thought on his path to sold-out stadiums and number one
hits?

My
heart suddenly aches so much I want to cry. I need to get away, but I
manage to hold it together until he pulls up outside the old carriage
house, and I can climb out of the car on unsteady legs. “I’ll
get the contract sent over right away,” I tell him.

“Don’t
I get your number?”

I
stare blankly.

Finn’s
lips curl in a teasing smile. “For questions about the lease.”

“Oh.
You can call the office. Delilah will be able to help you out. In
fact, you probably won’t see me again. Like I said, I meanly
deal with the admin.”

Finn
gazes at me thoughtfully for a moment, so long I wonder if I still
have frosting on my face. “I like it,” he says finally.

“Like
what?”

“Your
hair. You always used to hide behind it,” he says, his smile
slipping through my defenses all over again. “Now I can see
your eyes.”

I
can hear my heart pounding in my ears.

Oh
no. Not this time.

I
turn away and hurry up the steps without looking back, but I feel his
gaze on me with every step. This doesn’t mean anything, I tell
myself. Finn McKay is back in town, as gorgeous and charming as ever.
But I’ve learned my lesson the hard way.