"Finnegan," she cries, hurrying over to him as he steps out of the car, not bothering to wait for him to come to her.
His reply is muffled in her hug.
I smile at the scene, shamelessly watching. But my car door opens, and I'm face to face with an older version of Finn. There are differences: this man's eyes are light brown instead of blue. His skin is swarthy and weathered from what is clearly a life lived under the sun. And his posture is arrow straight even when apparently relaxed.
He gives me an easy smile, more of a curl of the lips and a deepening of the crinkles around his eyes. "Ms. Copper, I presume?"
"Yes, sir." Because this man exudes authority without even trying. "You must be Finn's dad, Captain Mannus."
He helps me out of the Jeep even though I don't need it, and then shakes my hand with one firm pump. "Finn has never brought a woman friend home before. Which means you're special, Ms. Copper. Call me Sean."
"Sean. I'm Chess."
With a nod, he gestures toward the house. "This way. Meg will be fawning over her boy for a good while more."
"I heard that," Finn's mother says from behind us.
Up close, Finn's mother is beautiful in that golden, eternally youthful way of Californian women. I don't know if it's something in the air or all the excellent plastic surgeons who live here, but I want to look half as good when I'm her age.
"Finn's been telling me all about you, Chess. I'm so glad you could make it."
Finn got his blue eyes from her. And her smiling mouth. We are of the same height, and when she shakes my hand, her smile is genuine, but her eyes search my face as if looking for internal flaws.
I don't resent her for being protective. I know she loves her son. But having never met a man's family before, I find myself wanting to squirm. I can only imagine how she sees me, pale skin, black hair with colored tips, tattoo on my arm. My white halter top and rose patterned A-line skirt are feminine, but they're no match for the casual elegance she manages to pull off with her cream-colored slacks and linen top.
"Thank you for including me in your holiday." There, that was polite. I can do polite and mannerly.
Finn steps close and rests his hand on my lower back. "All right, all right. Can we get inside? I'm starving."
"You ate a fish taco on the way here," I say with a half eye roll. In truth, it had been impressive the way he ate those tacos while driving. Not a drop spilled or his attention from the road compromised. But then his hand eye coordination is better than most. And Finn never wastes good food.
"That taco was tiny, Chess. It was gone in two bites."
"Well, with the way you ate it, yes-" I cut myself off, remembering belatedly that I'm meeting his freaking parents.
But Sean merely gives me a wink so quick, I almost miss it.
I let out a breath and tell myself to relax. I'm nervous, which is a new experience for me. Not one I like. Doesn't stop me from wanting to make a reasonably good impression.
Inside, the house is open and airy, with vaulted, beamed ceilings painted white, shiplap walls, and multiple picture windows framing the sea. The furniture is big and comfortable, California casual. It's like we've stepped into a design magazine. And yet there are signs of a well-lived life everywhere. Framed pictures of family on the tables, knick-knacks from exotic ports of call.
"It's beautiful," I tell Finn's mom.
She smiles wide. "Thank you, Chess. Let's get you situated and then we can have drinks on the patio."
Finn is back at my side, proprietary hand on my shoulder. "I'll show her, Mom."
There's an awkward beat of silence in the room, and I truly want to elbow Finn in the gut. I have no idea if his mom had planned to room us together, but the fact that he's made it clear that we are is mortifying. And, sadly, something I hadn't really thought about with this whole relationship farce.
///
"Ah … yes, of course," Meg says, with a small smile my way.
Wrapping my arm around Finn's waist, I smile back like a dolt, even as I surreptitiously pinch his side. He twitches, then presses his arm against my hand to keep me from attacking again. Nice block, but I'll get him in the room.
Aware of his parents watching us go, I keep quiet as he leads me down a long hall and into a bedroom at the far end of the house. I have a quick impression of clean, white furniture, and blue sea views before I pounce, pinching his little nipple.
"Ow!" He dances away scowling as he closes the door behind us. "What the hell is up with all the pinching?"
"You might as well have peed on my leg back there," I hiss.
Finn rubs his peck and frowns some more. "What are you talking about?"
"Out there." I gesture to the door. "Did it occur to you that your mom might have wanted to place us in separate rooms?"
"What are we, sixteen?" He looks appalled. "We're supposed to be together. There is no way I wouldn't be sleeping the same bed with my girl. Mom knows that."
"Are you sure about that? And your dad is military … "
Finn laughs, looking genuinely amused. "Dad is a sailor at heart, Chester. He's the last person who would try to put you in the guest room." Finn peers at me as if noticing something, and I have the annoying urge to check my face for dirt.
"You didn't think we'd be sharing a room, did you?" he asks, smugly smiling.
"I knew." I glance at the bed. It's a queen. Not nearly big enough for us to share. Not when Finn is the size of a tree.
"Uh-huh." He takes a step closer. I don't like that twinkle in his eye. It spells trouble. "You know we're going to have to be a little affectionate towards each other, right?" Another step. "Remember? Cuddle, gaze at me with utter adoration."
"I don't think I'm that good of an actress," I mutter, refusing to back up, though I want to. I'm beginning to feel like a juicy piece of steak, the way he's eyeing me.
His warm, slightly calloused palms lightly skim up my arms. Little shivers of pleasure follow the motion. His lazy gaze lowers to my mouth, and I swear my lips plump in happy appreciation. Finn makes a sound at the back of his throat. "I'll probably have to kiss you a few times."
My lids flutter, my lips going soft and full, as I try not to sway. He's close enough to feel his warm. My body wants him to breach the tiny distance and take. But my brain is filled with blaring klaxons. I suck in a breath, and hear him do the same.
"If you were my girl, I'd definitely kiss you any chance I got," he whispers, dipping closer.
"Try to kiss me now," I murmur, my lips nearly brushing his. "And I will bite you."
A huff of laughter brushes over my skin. "Oh, Chester, you really shouldn't dare me."
I lift my lids and our gazes clash. He hasn't moved away. The heat in his eyes makes my thighs tight. For a mindless second I want to taunt him, really dare him to do it. Kiss me. Make me forget my name.
But then his mom's voice slices through the thick air between us.
"Finn," she calls from the hall. "Hurry up! Glenn is here!"
Finn doesn't move, but his grimace is swift and pained. Slowly he straightens, holding my gaze the entire time. "I'm beginning to think that woman has some sort of sixth sense." With a wry twist of his lips, he takes a step back. "Come on then, you heard the woman. Glenn is here!"
I should be grateful for his mother's impeccable sense of timing. But I'm not. I glance back at the bed as we leave the room. She won't be around at night. And I really don't have much faith in my will power anymore.
* * *
Finn
* * *
Awkward is a grown man hobbling out of his childhood bedroom, trying to tuck away his hard-on so he can face his family without causing anyone mental trauma.
And while part of me wants Chess to see the effect she has on me, I've pushed her enough already. I'm fairly certain Chess would have no compunction about kneeing me in my tender balls and taking the next flight home.
I haven't been doing a good job of keeping away from her. I know this. I've told myself this more times than I care to count. Problem is, I want her with a ferocity that aches low in my gut, and I find myself reaching for her without thought, only to restrain myself at the last second. Because she is not mine.
My body insists otherwise and is fairly pissy with me at present. Aching dick, bruised heart, twitchy hands, I'm an undisciplined wreck.
///
And then I had to go haul Chess off to my room. A stupid play. I have no idea how I'm going to keep my hands off her when we're stuck sleeping in together in that small ass bed. Jesus, I haven't been this torqued for release since the seventh grade, when I caught sight of Angel Ramirez's boobs in gym class.