The Comeback Kiss (18 page)

Never make the same mistake twice.

Oh, shut up.

She let the kiss deepen, let her fingers glide over his face. He pulled her into his arms and
it felt so good. Like coming home. Like getting a damn break. It was Finn, and even though she would have committed hara-kiri before admitting it, this was the moment she
’
d wished for in the shadow of her heart all these years, and it felt damn good to f
i
nally have it.

But still. Real life and reason were just inches away, and it only took a moment for them to catch up to her. She ended the kiss, pulled back, and looked up at him.

Finn.

“
Oh, man,”
she said. “
I
’
m stupid.”

“
Really?”
he said, reaching for her
again. “
You feel fine.”

She smacked at his hands. “
Knock it off. I
’
m not kidding. Whatever this insanity is between us, it ends here.”

Finn
’
s head cocked gently to the side, and he unleashed that damn smile that made her get all stupid and
zingy.

“
You
’
re
right,”
he said after a minute. “
No more insanity. Although, I have to tell you, you
’
re not helping matters any.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “
Oh, so, what? This is my fault now?”

“
A little.”
He shrugged, his eyes sparkling and playful. “
You could
help by quitting it with the pretty.”

Tessa rolled her eyes at that one. “
Ten years, you
’
d think your lines would improve.”

“
I
’
m serious,”
he said. “
I
’
m only human. You could make an effort, you know.”

“
Oh, yeah?”
she said, not wanting to smile but doing
it anyway.

“
Sure. You could go a few days without showering. Grow a big wart on the tip of your nose. Or, hey, one of those moles with a long hair right there on your chin.”

She gave him a playful pout. “
You wouldn
’
t think I was sexy if I had a big hairy m
ole?”

“
Well.”
He kept his eyes on hers, gave a short laugh. “
How
’
d this conversation get dangerous again?”

“
I don
’
t know.”
She swallowed. “
I think we just do that.”

“
Yeah,”
he said. “
I think we do.”

She nodded, staying where she was as he moved forward tow
ard her. In an unexpected twist, though, he simply opened the door for her.

“
You
’
d better go,”
he said. “
Gotta get cracking on that mole.”

Tessa ignored the cold air wrapping around her and looked at him.

“
Where have you been?”
she asked.

He let out a smal
l laugh and shook his head. “
Las Vegas. Private investigator.”

“
Right,”
she said.

She held one last lingering look with him, emotions tangling in her chest. She wanted him, and she didn
’
t want him. She wished she could curl up here with him and forget ever
ything else, and she wished he would go back to wherever he
’
d come from and leave her alone. Only one feeling was coming through clearly, and it was the realization that she
’
d missed him so much more than she
’
d ever suspected, even in her most private and
honest moments.

And that just wasn
’
t fair.

Tessa pulled her eyes away from him and walked out of the shack into the frigid winter air. She took long deep breaths, hoping the cold air would freeze the feel of Finn
’
s kisses right off her lips, taking with it
her decidedly inconvenient yearning for more.

It didn
’
t work, but it was worth a shot.

Chapter Nine

Finn stared at the door, the image of its wooden planks burning into his eyes as he tried to figure out what the hell was going on. All he
’
d wanted to d
o was return the car, shake the karma, get the mess out of his head so he could go back to his uncomplicated life and move on. When he
’
d planned the trip to Lucy
’
s Lake, he hadn
’
t even planned on seeing Tessa, let alone kissing her.

Twice.

And those kisses
had nearly knocked him over. He never thought that she
’
d still have such a hold on him, after all this time. He released a breath and ran his hand through his hair. She was still there. He could feel the softness of her face in the palm of his hand, smel
l
the scent of her when he breathed in.

Hell. Between Babs and Izzy and Tessa, he was about ready to appreciate some time with Joe. At least Joe was straightforward, even if he was straightforwardly accusing Finn of arson and murder.

It was the women in his
life who were truly dangerous.

You ain
’
t kidding.

Finn blinked, looked down at the dog sitting next to the fire. “
You got something to say, dog?”

The dog smacked its lips and rested its snout on its paws.
The name
’
s Wallace.

Finn eyed the dog for a minute
. While working birds, he
’
d been shot at, knocked out, stiffed, and beaten up
—
most of them more than once
—
but none of the birds had ever taunted him telepathically.

Well. There was a first time for everything.

The door flew open and Babs stepped in, smilin
g brightly. “
My ride seems to have run off,”
Babs said.

“
Huh?”
Finn turned to face her. “
Oh. Yeah.”

“
I assume it was something you did?”

Finn nodded. “
That
’
d be the smart bet.”

“
Oh, Dermot,”
she said. “
For such a charming young man, you can be such an abom
inable putz.”

Suddenly Finn felt bone-tired, and the last tiling he wanted to do was discuss his life with a Manhattan Presbyterian who used the word “
putz.”

“
Where
’
s my car?”

Babs reached into her purse, pulled a set of keys out, and handed them to Finn.
“
It
’
s at the diner.”

He took the keys and motioned vaguely around the shack.

“
It ain
’
t the Ritz, but you
’
ll survive for an hour,”
he said. “
I
’
m gonna hike into town and get the car.”

Babs gasped and leaned down over the dog. “
What an adorable little creatu
re! Is he yours?”

“
No,”
Finn said.

“
Oh, you are a cute little fellow,”
Babs said, scratching Wallace on the head. Wallace shot a look of victory up at Finn.

“
She
’
s all yours, dog.”

“
Hmmm?”
Babs said, looking up at Finn.

Finn sighed and focused on Babs. “
Wh
en I get back, I
’
m taking you down to Brattleboro and putting you on the next bus back to the city. Then, after I
’
m done with the Boston job, I
’
ll bring the car back with me to New York. That
’
s the plan.”

“
Hmmm,”
Babs said, with just a hint of judgment in
her voice.

Finn tightened his grip on the keys. “
You got something to say?”

“
Oh, nothing. I just thought you might stay, you know, for a little while. Take the opportunity to reunite with your family.”
She smiled innocently. “
Your uncle seems lovely.”

“
Lo
vely, huh?”
Finn said. “
We talking about the same guy? Because as I remember,
lovely
isn
’
t a synonym for
cranky old fucker,
but then, I left my copy of
Roget
’
s
at home.”

Babs sat down on the edge of the bed. Wallace wedged his head between her knees and lo
lled his head back, his neck exposed for her to scratch.

Suck-up.

“
You know, I was estranged from Dana for a long time,”
she said. “
Not quite as long as you and your uncle, but still. I will never get those years back. Neither will you.”

“
Babs, I appreciat
e your concern, a little, but you don
’
t know anything about me and Max, okay? So butt out.”

“
I know he raised you,”
Babs continued. “
I don
’
t need to know anything else. When you
’
re a parent to someone, Finn, it doesn
’
t make you infallible. It just makes yo
u vulnerable. Everything they do, everything they say can break your heart. And if Max is anything like you
—
stubborn, closed-off, emotionally stunted
—
then I can see why he might have said those things to you. It doesn
’
t mean he meant them.”

“
Emotionally st
unted?
”
Finn took that in. “
What the hell does that mean?”

Babs sighed and stood up. “
I
’
ve never met your father...”

“
Dangerous territory, Babs,”
Finn growled. “
Watch your step.”

She continued to talk over him. “
...but I know your character well enough to
know you
’
re nothing like a man who would abandon a sick wife with two young children.”

“
You don
’
t know anything.”
He didn
’
t want to talk about his father, or Max, or any of it. Anyone with an ounce of sense would be able to see that.

Unfortunately, he was
dealing with Babs.

“
Max knows it, too,”
she went on. “
I
’
d bet everything I own that he didn
’
t mean a word of what he said to you that night, but you
’
ll never know unless you talk to him.”
Finn watched Babs for a second as a thought, which had been forming
at the back of his head, jumped up front and center.

“
There is no Boston job, is there?”

Babs scoffed. “
Of course there
’
s a Boston job.”

“
You manipulated this whole situation to get me stranded here. I can
’
t believe it took me this long to figure it out.”
He reached to the floor, grabbed his pack, and tossed it over his shoulder. “
Emotionally stunted, my ass. Mentally stunted, that
’
s what I am.”

“
I had to do something,”
Babs said. “
I had a responsibility.”

“
You have a personality disorder. Why is everythin
g your business?”