Page 8 of Unintentionally Yours

“I was going to say stable, but yeah,” Layla admitted with a rueful twist of her lips. “Randy was the kind of guy you settled for because you’d given up on ever finding ‘the one.’” She shook her head, a sad little laugh escaping on a sigh. “God, that sounds awful, doesn’t it? Like something a character in a bad romance novel would say.”

“Maybe those romance writers are onto something.” Finn shrugged, an eloquent lift of one muscular shoulder. “And this realization just hit you, what? An hour before you were supposed to walk down the aisle?”

“More like thirty minutes. It wasn’t that I got cold feet. It was like...like my whole body filled with ice.”

Finn huffed out a laugh, shaking his head as he took a bite of chili. “Cutting it a bit close there, don’t you think?”

Layla sighed, the sound heavy with exhaustion and self-recrimination. “Story of my life. I’ve always been a bit of a... late bloomer, I guess you could say. Slow to figure out what I want.”

“And what do you want, Layla Bryant?” The question emerged without conscious thought, loaded with layers of meaning Finn hadn’t intended.

Layla was staring at him, her expression inscrutable. He leaned back, crossing his arms over his broad chest. The action made his biceps bunch, straining the fabric of his shirt. Layla tried not to stare. She really did. That had to be inappropriate, didn’t it? Ogling a complete stranger on what should have been her wedding day?

“I...” She trailed off, worrying at her bottom lip with small, even teeth. “Honestly? I’m still trying to figure that out. Getting engaged to Randy was the easy way out. It made my mother happy and let me conform, for once, to what society expected of me. But in the end I just couldn’t do it. I knew I wanted more than what was waiting for me at the end of that aisle. I knew I wanted more than tea parties, golf outings, and pretending to be someone I’m not, just to make others happy. I’ve kind of done that in all other aspects of my life. But with the person I’m going to spend the rest of my life with? Marrying a man who would never see me. Never know me, not really.”

Finn watched as she shook her head, sending those dark curls shimmering.

“I can’t do that. I’m not going to do that.” Her tone was resolute.

It hurt to say the words, to give voice to the messy, tangled knot of feelings in her chest. But it was a clean pain, a lancing of the wound.

She laughed, a brittle, watery sound. “So, I did the only thing I could do. I ran. Picked up my skirts and fled like you said—like the hounds of hell were on my heels. And I just...kept running. Until I ended up here.”

With you.

“Anyway,” she continued, clearing her throat. “I couldn’t go through with it. I couldn’t resign myself to a life of making bland hospital corners, having boring missionary sex, and naming our kids things like Blake or Blair. So...I ran.”

Finn’s mouth kicked up at the corner, a flash of even white teeth. “And of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, you ran into mine.”

“Casablanca,” Layla identified automatically. “You like the classics.”

His mouth curved a little on one side “Yeah, I do.”

Layla was charmed despite herself. Who was this man, with his hidden depths, hungry eyes, and gentle hands? She wanted to know more. Needed to learn more.

The words hung unspoken between them, heavy with implication. With promise and possibility, with a rightness that stole the breath from Layla’s lungs.

“Well,” Finn said, slow and thoughtful. “I guess we’ve both got our demons to wrestle.”

Demons. Yes, that was one word for it. For the shadows that clung to them both, the hurts and the heartaches. The wounds that hadn’t quite healed.

Her words had hit Finn like a punch to the gut. Thinking of her with another man was not something he wanted to picture. No, his basic instincts had already warned him that this woman was meant to be more than a stranger he’d given harbor to in a storm. She was meant to be in his life.

His. He slowly acknowledged the thought. She was his. Meant to be his with all her curves and sass. Meant to bring the light back into his dark world. He didn’t know how he knew, but he did.

“Well, I may not have all the answers, but I do know one thing. Running away may have been impulsive...but it was also brave as hell. It takes guts to go after what you want, even if you’re not sure what that is yet.”

Layla blinked at him, clearly taken aback at his words. Then her face brightened with pleased wonder. “You think I’m brave?”

“I think you’re a lot of things, Goldilocks. Brave. Strong. Smart.” His gave a wicked smile. “A pain in my ass.”

She laughed, the sound bright and unrestrained, and something in Finn’s chest squeezed tight. Damn, she was stunning when she laughed.

“You know,” she mused, tilting her head to the side. In another woman, it would have looked coy, flirtations, but on Layla, it was merely inquisitiveness. “You’re not so bad yourself. For a grumpy mountain man with boundary issues.”

Finn snorted. “Careful now. Wouldn’t want all these compliments to go to my head.”

“I’ll be sure to keep your ego in check.” Layla took a few bites of chili, her eyes fluttering shut as she chewed. “Oh my God. I take it back. You’re amazing, and I might have to marry you for this chili alone.”

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