The Hot Shot(24)

       
           


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"Are you hungry," he asks, pausing.

"No, just tired."

He nods as if he suspected as much, and leads me down another hall. The  first door opens into a bedroom. At first glance, I think it's his  because it's so large and it's fully decorated. But there's a slightly  feminine touch in the lacy white duvet and multiple throw pillows on the  pretty carved mahogany canopy bed that I just can't see Finn choosing  for his bedroom. Nor can I imagine him sitting on one of the delicate  little linen covered armchairs set up before the fireplace.

He sets my busted laptop down on a sideboard. "My mom uses this room  when she visits. There's a bathroom here." He opens a door, and I get a  peak at a clawfoot tub and more exposed brick walls. I'm suddenly aching  for a hot bath.

Finn clearly notices the direction of my gaze because he gives me a  small smile. "Want me to start a bath? It'll take a bit to fill."

"Okay."

While he fiddles with the taps, I stand in the middle of the room. I  want to sit, but everything is so pretty and clean, and I stink of soot  and smoke.

Finn bustles back in, full of nervous energy that makes me want to hug  him. "Right, so there's a coffee maker." He opens the doors of the  sideboard and pulls out an automated espresso maker on a tray. "And a  fridge as well."

The small fridge is stocked with cream and juice and bottled waters.  Just like a luxury hotel. I blink several times and nod, as he looks  over his shoulder at me to see if I'm getting everything.

"It's perfect," I assure him, my voice thick.

He stands and shoves his hands in his trouser pockets. He seems larger  in this room, his masculinity somehow highlighted against all the frilly  touches. An elegantly dressed bruiser with a sensitive heart. "Towels  and a robe are in the bathroom …  And, right … " He moves to the tall  dresser by the closet. "Clothes."

"Clothes?" I croak. On stiff legs, I go to him, as he pulls open a drawer.

Shirts of various colors, jeans-blue and black-sweaters …  They're all  neatly folded, tags still on them. I blink again, more rapidly, my  throat swelling.

"You got me clothes?"

His eyes meet mine. "You needed them."

I can't speak.

"It's just to get you started," he goes on as if I'm not about to lose  it right here in his cozy guest room. I find bras, panties, socks and  nighties, in a rainbow of color, resting nicely in another drawer.

"Bra size was a little harder to guess. I mean, I was pretty sure about  cup size but 34? 36? I have no idea what that's all about … " He meets my  gaze, and the tips of his ears pink. "Ah … yeah … so anyway … "

A smile pulls at my lips. "I could always go without."

"Please don't," he teases. "I'm trying hard enough as it is to not ogle your tits."

My chest is so tight it hurts to laugh. I suck in a shaky breath at the end of it. "When did you do this?"

He couldn't possibly have had the time.

"As much as I'd like to take credit," he says, sliding a drawer closed.  "My assistant, Charlie, did it. You'll meet him soon enough." Finn goes  to turn off the water. "He works for a bunch of us guys, and when I  heard about the fire, I called him in to help."

"Finn … " I don't know what to even say. Slowly, I walk toward him. "All of this … " Shit, I'm going to sob.

He shrugs again as if it's no big deal. "I wanted to give you what I could."

The bathroom is warm and humid, the air fragrant with the vanilla-lemon bubble bath he added to the water when I wasn't looking.

Finn gazes down at me, his expression so tender, I might break. I can't. If I cry now, I don't know if I can stop.

"Look, you don't have to stay more than the night," he says in the  quiet. "But I wish you would. I've got some away games coming up and  will be traveling for a couple of weeks, so you'll have the place to  yourself."

"Okay," I whisper.

The stiff way he holds his shoulders eases, and he lets out a breath.  "Good. Go on and have your bath. I'll get the meds the doc prescribed."

"You'll get my meds?" God, all I'm doing is parroting him now, but my mind has scrambled.

Finn rests his hand on my shoulder. "Chess, honey, I'll get you anything you need."

He becomes a blur as my eyes fill. I blink back tears that cannot fall.  But my resistance crumbles. With a shuddering breath, I step into his  space and wrap my good arm around his waist. "Finn," I croak.                       
       
           


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Immediately, he gathers me up, holding me close, his lip pressed to the  top of my head. I lean on him and wallow in the feel of his body, strong  and firm and warm. It's so comforting, part of me wants to pull away,  afraid that I'll come to need this too much. But I can't move.

"I think I love you right now," I tell him, my voice muffled on his crisp shirt.

Those massive arms of his tighten a fraction, even as his chest shakes on a laugh. "Only right now, eh?"

"I'm sure you'll eventually say something to remind me why that's a bad  idea." I don't bother lifting my nose from his chest. The silk of his  tie presses against my cheek, the scent of fine wool and clean man  surrounding me. Finn in a suit is devastating. But I miss his t-shirt  and jeans.

"Probably," he agrees then sighs. "I'm glad you're okay, honey."

A fine tremor goes through his body. And I realize, he isn't nervous,  he's upset. I snuggle closer. "Thank you for coming to get me."

"Always, Chess."

He says it with such fierce sincerity that my knees go weak. I think  about the loss of my house, my work. Jesus, my Nikon D5 DSLR. I took out  a loan to get that baby. Not to mention my lenses. My beautiful lenses.  Gone. Melted.

Panic claws up my throat. If I let it in, I'll ask him to take me to  bed, make me forget for a few hours why I'm so scared. I can almost hear  myself begging, almost feel my hands moving down to cup the fat bulge  in his pants.

He'd be willing. I know this well. Finn has never hidden his attraction  to me. And it would be so good. I know this without a doubt. But morning  would come and I'd still be a woman without a home, facing the only  friend I have close right now with all the awkwardness and regret that  comes with a one night stand.

I force myself to loosen my hold on him, to step back and find some  distance. Finn's arms fall to his sides as he watches me back up. The  loss of him makes me cold and off balance. I clutch my arm to my chest.

"I should take my bath now."

"Sure." He leaves me to bathe, closing the bathroom door behind him.

At some point, while I soak, I hear him return and leave my pain meds in  the bedroom. By the time I crawl into his soft guest bed, the sheets  smelling faintly of laundry detergent but stiff with disuse, I'm  shaking.

I cry with my face buried deep into a pillow so he won't hear.





Chapter Nine





Finn



* * *



I'm one twisted bastard. My girl has had one of the worst nights of her  life, and here I am, fucking content because she's in my home.

It rattled me to the core when I thought of her hurt, or worse. The time  it took me to get to her had felt endless. And when I'd finally found  her, all bruised and dazed, her green eyes so wounded and scared, it had  leveled me. I'm still shaking deep inside my guts.

With a grunt, I push my body up, my weight resting on my fingertips.  Sweat trickles down my temples and into my eyes. Slowly, I lower myself  until my nose almost touches the floor. Up, down, the burn in my arms  and chest is a welcome distraction. But not enough.

Chess had been crying last night. And it fucking killed me. I'd wanted  to go to her so badly, I'd leaned against her door, my heart in my  throat, my hand pressed to the wood. The only thing that stopped me was  that she had obviously waited until I'd gone to cry. She hadn't wanted  me to witness her pain.

That hurt too. I want her trust. I want to take care of her. Badly.

An oddity I don't fully understand. Because I have never taken care of anyone but myself. Never wanted to until now.

Yet it felt good last night, knowing that I was providing her with safe  harbor, seeing to her comfort. Which brings me back to feeling like a  bit of a bastard; she's hurting and I don't know how to make it better.

I'd have made her breakfast, but it's going on eleven and she's still not up.

I grunt again, picking up the pace. A strangled squeak has me pausing.

Chess stands in the living room, gaping at me. "Holy hell." Her gaze  slides over my bare torso like greedy hands. "Is this one of the perks  offered at the House of Mannus?"

With a little more flare than necessary, I leap up from my plank  position and land lightly on my feet. "Daily viewing times are at ten to  eleven, barring travel blackout dates."