The Comeback Kiss (27 page)

***

Finn pulled the rental to a stop in front of Tessa
’
s and sat back in the driver
’
s seat, staring up at the house. It was exactly
the same as it had always been. Colonial style, blue paint, white trim. He
’
d been five when he
’
d first seen it, on a walk through the neighborhood with Uncle Max, not long after his mother had gotten sick and his parents had moved the family up from Bosto
n
. He remembered thinking how nice it looked compared to the apartment above Max
’
s Diner where they were staying. It looked like a real home for a real family.

That was when Tessa had come running out of the house, buck-ass naked and wet, dark hair flailing
wildly about her face as she evaded her mother. Foamy chunks of bubble bath fell from her body as she ran. Max helped Karen race after Tessa, but being a gentleman, he wouldn
’
t actually touch her. Finally, Finn yelled, “
I gots Tootsie Rolls!”
from the si
d
ewalk where he stood watching. Tessa froze in her spot, staring at him, transfixed. Finn remembered that moment so clearly, their eyes meeting and locking like that, as though they both knew it was an important moment.

Then Karen swooped Tessa up into a bi
g, fluffy towel, yelled her thanks, and carried her daughter inside, breaking the moment. Max walked Finn back to the diner and gave him ice cream.

The next day, Finn stole a bag of Tootsie Rolls from the corner market and went to Tessa
’
s house, where he f
ound out she was four years old and that her favorite color was yellow. They
’
d been friends ever since.

And look how well that turned out.

He checked the rental
’
s dashboard clock: 12:14, He
’
d been driving around Lucy
’
s Lake for five hours. No wonder the ta
nk was nearly empty. Of course, at least one of those hours had been spent parked at the lake, staring at the glossy surface of the ice, thinking about Izzy and Tessa. Joe and Max. The fire that led to Karen Scuderi
’
s death and the possibly related fire a
t
Vickie
’
s that had sucked him back into everything he
’
d been avoiding for so long. All of it made him want to take that rental and run, just take off and never look back. He
’
d gotten as far as I-91 before turning around.

You
’
re just like your father.

Max
’
s
voice echoed back to him from that night ten years ago, after Finn had gotten caught once again sneaking out after curfew.

You have the smarts, and you don
’
t use them. That makes you stupider than anyone. You could be somebody,
but all you do is screw aro
und and make trouble. That makes you trouble. You think you
’
re ever going to be good enough for her? You won
’
t. You will drag her down with you until it kills her, or at least kills her spirit.

That makes you nothing.

Finn sighed and shook his head. He ha
d two good reasons why he didn
’
t like to sit and ruminate about the past: there was no point, and it made his ass twitch. He looked down at the bag of dog food on the passenger seat and debated for a moment, but in the end, he knew the dog was going to ne
e
d to eat, and the last thing he wanted to do was lay one more responsibility on Tessa. He grabbed the bag from the passenger seat and got out of the car, feeling every heavy footstep as he made his way to the front door. He tried it gently.

It was locked.
Which was good. There was very possibly someone in town with an itchy lighter finger and if the door had been unlocked, Finn would have been furious.

Now, locked out of Tessa
’
s house and her life, all he felt was disappointment.

Get used to it,
he thought.
He laid the food next to the front door and took a step back. He was just about to leave when the foyer light flicked on and the front door unlatched and opened.

And there was Tessa. One eye was half-closed, and the left side of her hair had this strange
gravity-defying thing going on.

“
Hey,”
she said, rubbing one side of her face with the flat of her hand.

“
Sorry,”
he said. “
I didn
’
t mean to wake you.”

“
I fell asleep on the sofa,”
she said, vaguely gesturing toward the living room.

“
I see,”
he said, smili
ng. “
I was just dropping off some food for Wallace.”

“
Okay.”
She squinted up at him. “
Come on in.”

“
No,”
he said. “
It
’
s late. You go to sleep. Tell Izzy I
’
ll be by in the morning.”

“
You don
’
t have to go,”
she said. “
Sofa
’
s lumpy, but it beats the shack.”

F
inn watched her for a moment, and decided they were both too worn-out to argue.

“
Okay,”
he said. “
Thanks.”

“
You
’
re welcome.”

He picked up the dog food and headed in. Wallace raised his head from where he was lying by the door. “
He
’
s a great watchdog,”
Finn
said.

Wallace gave a little huff and rested his snout back on his forepaws.

“
Hmmm. Very vicious.”
She glanced down at the bag. “
Hey. Dog food.”

Finn smiled. “
Yeah.”

“
Good.”
She stretched out one arm, scratched her head with the other. “
We
’
re gonna need a
collar and a leash and...”
She blinked and looked at the bag of dog food. “
Why is the bag covered in soot?”

Finn shrugged. “
Afterthought.”

“
Oh.”
Tessa crossed her arms and stared at it for a minute. Finn watched her. Her shirt was crinkled and she had a li
ttle mascara burn under one eye, but damned if she wasn
’
t more beautiful than she
’
d ever been.

You got it bad, man,
the dog said.

“
Shut up,”
Finn said.

“
Huh?”
Tessa snapped to attention from her trance.

“
You should get to bed.”
Finn smiled down at her. “
Yo
u
’
re gonna need your rest.”

“
Yeah.”
She started toward the stairs, then turned, came back, and passed by him. He caught her by the arm. “
If memory serves, your room is upstairs.”

“
Yeah, but you need sheets and a pillow and a blanket. They
’
re in the
—”

“
Line
n closet by the laundry room,”
he said softly, taking her shoulders and turning her toward the stairs. “
I can find it. Go to bed.”

She twirled in his arms to face him.

“
It
’
ll just take me a minute,”
she said, then stopped and looked up at him. His hands re
sted on her shoulders, and he was too beat to fight the instinct to slide them down her arms, finally settling them on her hips. She moved closer, resting her cheek against his chest as his arms circled her waist.

“
I don
’
t want to fight with you,”
she said
softly.

“
Are we fighting?”
He let his fingers brush against the small of her back. “
Because if we are, we should do it more.”

She smiled and closed her eyes. “
I
’
m still mostly asleep. I
’
m just saying what
’
s in my head. It doesn
’
t necessarily make sense.”

“
Oh. Well. In that case, keep going.”

She raised her head a bit and blinked sleepily at him.

“
I missed you,”
she said.

He reached up and moved a lock of hair away from her forehead. A strange pressure clamped down on his chest, and all he could say was, “
Y
eah.”

Slowly, she rested her head back on his chest. He felt her body relax, melting into his. He raised one hand and put it on the back of her head, gently trailing his fingers through her hair. It was impossibly soft. She inhaled deeply, and her arms sli
d down again, snaked around his waist, and she sighed. Finn rested his cheek on top of her head and was amazed at how something so simple could feel so good.

A moment later Tessa released him, stepping back with a lazy smile on her face.

“
See?”
she said. “
I
’
m fun.”

How was it legal for one person to be that beautiful? “
There
’
s no one funner.”
He felt like he could stand there and look into her eyes for the rest of his life.

“
Damn straight.”

One side of her mouth twitched up in a semismile, and it literally
took his breath away. He didn
’
t realize time was passing until she cocked her head to the side.

“
You okay?”

No.
“
Yeah.”
He smiled and touched her face, then leaned down and kissed her lightly on the forehead. “
Time for bed, sweetheart.”

She took a step bac
k, then turned and headed up the stairs. He stood at the bottom of the steps and watched her go, wondering if she
’
d get the reference if he brought her a package of Tootsie Rolls in the morning. He immediately scrapped the idea on account of extreme senti
m
entality and overall lameness.

This isn
’
t what you came here for, he told himself. You
’
re not doing her any favors with all this.

Wallace raised his head and looked up at Finn.
You really are an idiot, you know that?

Finn glanced down at the dog. “
You got
something to say?”

The dog quirked one eyebrow at Finn.
Seems to me I said it.

Finn squatted and looked Wallace in the eye. Wallace stared back, licked his chops quickly, thumped his tail twice against the floor in anticipation of nothing in particular. Ju
st like a normal dog.

“
So, you think you
’
re the big dog, with all the talking?”
Finn said.

I
’
m about average size,
Wallace said.
But you know what they say
—
it
’
s not the size of the ship, it
’
s the motion in the
—

“
Oh, for Christ
’
s sake,”
Finn interrupted. Th
e dog said nothing. Finn stared at it for a while. It was a regular-looking dog, nothing special. All of this was probably just Finn
’
s subconscious trying to get his attention.

Or, he
’
d picked up a talking dog. Which, given the grand range of weird shit th
at happened to people on a daily basis, wasn
’
t something Finn was going to get too worked up about. He narrowed his eyes at it and leaned down lower, his eyes level with the dog
’
s.

“
You were there yesterday morning,”
he said. “
Who started that fire?”