Page 15 of Lightness In My Dark

When we got to the car, I threw up near a tree. Red wine and dry heaves lasted about five minutes. My eyes blurred with tears. Finn shook his head and sat in the car until I was done. He couldn’t even look at me, let alone talk to me. Again, I didn’t blame him if he kicked me out of the house. Not only did I embarrass him, but I also took drugs and mixed them with alcohol. Luckily, nothing serious happened to me.

During the week, I saw little of Finn, which allowed me to breathe and get comfortable in my new surroundings. I roamed the house, not venturing far off to avoid intrusion. To the foyer’s right was the dining room, and through the dining room, the kitchen. A small living area with bloated cushioned chairs, a couch in front of a large flat screen TV above a fireplace, was left of the foyer. Straight ahead to the right, took you to a less formal eating area, opening onto the kitchen, and to the left, a hallway leading to rooms I had avoided. This part of the house had all windows with French doors. The outdoor seated area ran half the length of the house, with a built-in grill and a small outdoor kitchen.

I spent the week getting familiar with Chef Dan, who I liked from the start. Robust of a man with a James Earl Jones laugh. It was hard for me not to be relaxed around him. He prepared the meals while we talked, or I assisted. Chef Dan knew his way around the kitchen, and my guess, his wife’s heart. Married for fifteen-years, he had three children, and the way he spoke of his family gave me goosebumps. I adored and envied that kind of devotion and love.

When not with Chef Dan and Cole was home, I’d spend time with him. He had his own house on the left side of Finn’s property so he could have a private place to retreat to. Otherwise, I would walk around the premise, about three acres, or hang out in my bedroom. I met two of the maids in passing, Jasmine, who was around my age, and Mabel, who might have been in her fifties. Both friendly, but busy with their jobs.

Finn came home early on Friday. From my room, I listened to him enter and his cordial acknowledgment to Chef Dan. My body tensed from his footsteps coming up. I ran to the window seat, put my earbuds in, cranked the music, and opened a book. After shuffling pages, the door opened but I pretended to read. Finn approached, took the book out of my hand, and tugged at my earbuds. I scowled and then turned toward the window.

What a bastard? A half-naked bastard. A beautiful half-naked bastard. I can’t even look at shirtless Finn.

“We’re eating now. And afterwards, you and I…” I saw out of my peripheral him pointing at both of us. “… are going to have a little chat.”

I pursed my lips and stood. Finn gave me a once over, frowning at my baggy sweatpants and sweatshirt, then headed downstairs with me in tow.

On a normal day, Cole ate with us, but he had plans. Chef Dan served us a salad, and a plate filled with a salmon filet, asparagus, and a double-baked potato.

I picked up my fork, mouth watering. “This looks great, Chef Dan. Thank you.” My starting conversation took Finn by surprise as his brows caved in and his eyes transferred from me to Chef Dan.

“You’re very welcome, Wren. I hope you enjoy it.”

Finn cleared his throat and joined in. “Yes, this looks great. Thanks.”

“Enjoy, Mr. Trevino.”

Finn said, “Oh, now I’m Mr. Trevino?”

“I thought you’d want me to—”

“Call me Finn?” Chef Dan bowed and went back into the kitchen.

The only sound was silverware clinking against plates. I surveyed Finn when he wasn’t looking. He made eating sexy. His disheveled hair from running his hand through it, rustled a few strands, which fell over his right eye. Entranced by his attractiveness, I missed the fact he was staring at me through his long eyelashes. My heart rate sped as I drank in his stare—his wild, dark hair, eyes freezing on me. His dimple appeared with a widened smile. It snapped me out of my trance, causing my breath to hitch, and then I blinked. I concentrated on placing my fork onto the plate and brought my dishes into the kitchen.

Before I made a beeline to my room, Finn called out, “Wren! Living room. I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”

My body slumped with a Quasimodo shuffle to the living room. We still hadn’t talked about Monday’s debacle. I chose one of the comfy chairs to avoid having to sit near him. He came in, indicated for me to sit on the couch as he sat at the other end. I folded my hands in my lap, concentrating ahead of me, legs bouncing off the front of the couch like a child.

With his left leg bent on the couch, body turned toward me, arm over the back, he asked, “What happened Monday?”

I juggled with how to word my answer. He interrupted. “Wren, you won’t find the answer on the TV, so you might as well face me.”

My body swung to a cross-legged seat facing him, and said, “Well… I…” He sat there waiting. I glanced down at my thumb, rubbing my hand and then back to him.

I can’t concentrate while he’s bare-chested. Those muscles keep tensing and relaxing with every movement, making my mind flirt with obscene thoughts. Like a marionette, his body movements manipulate my core.

My eyes lowered to his lap where I could see the crest of the muscle between his legs. A warmth spread up my neck and across my face. “I am sorry for what happened. Things… my nerves… it all caught up to me.” Never taking away his attention, he let me talk without interruption. “I was so nervous. I tried everything to calm myself.” He kept his gaze on me. I gulped, looked away, and then returned to him. “Please stop staring at me.”

He rested the side of his head on his fist. “I’m listening.”

My hands rubbed along the tops of my thighs. “Well, I’m done. I said I’m sorry, and I tried to calm my nerves.”

Finn breathed out a sigh through his nose. “How did you try to calm your nerves?” He was digging for more.

“Um… I tried some exercises and when that didn’t work, I took a pill.”

His arm fell onto the couch. Finn opened his mouth, closed it, and then clenched his jaw and asked, “What kind of pill?”

My head lowered when I said, “The kind that helps you relax.” Finn repeated his question by accentuating each word. “Fine. Xanax.”

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