He chuckled and nodded his head sideways. “About Herman. My aunt told me. She was in on the whole thing. After seeing his treatment of you and Victoria, she came into the office one afternoon and let rip. I should have told you this earlier, but I was sworn to secrecy. I don’t even think Victoria knows.” No time was given for me to process this juicy tidbit before Finn began wringing and rubbing his hands so firmly I could hear the silkyswish-swishingof his palms. His eyebrows knitted, and he suddenly pushed his chair out, stood, and cleared his throat. “I’m knackered. I might go back to our room and knock out a few ideas before I hit the hay.” I understood this meant Finn was tired and was going to do some work and go to bed, but Jason and Victoria didn’t. “In American English, please, Austen.”
“Oh, sorry. I’m going back to the room to do some work. Scarlett, if you’ve finished your dinner, would you like to come with me? For the work part, not the bed part.” He blushed. “I’m thinking of changing the pitch of the wraparound veranda. I’d love to show you some sketches.”
“Sure, Finn. If that’s okay with you two—”
“Night, guys.” Victoria turned her back to us and continued to offer her fork to Jason, who didn’t seem to mind one bit as he waved.
My chair dragged across the slate floor as Finn gripped my wrist and pulled me to my feet. “Ohh!” a little squeal escaped. Remaining unaffected by the relative ease in which he controlled my body, how big his hand was, and how it easily swamped mine was as hard as swallowing the lump of desire wedged in my throat. But I had to.Because we are friends and friends don’t notice how big other friends’ body parts are. Or fantasize about the stinging red welts those body parts might leave on my ass.
Once he’d stabilized me from my totally unrelated giddiness, he ducked down and collected the bag he knocked off the chair, shoved it in my hand, and whispered into my ear. “I’ve just got a call to make. Then I’ll come to your room. See you in ten, Red.”
My recent jogging paid off as I sprinted to my room. With hardly a puff or hair out of place, I called Ben, blew him a hundred goodnight kisses, chastised Brett for feeding him waffles and ice cream for dinner, even though I had done the same thing three nights ago, then had the world’s quickest shower and shave down. Yes, it was unnecessary. This was a work meeting, after all. But I’d always found I thought clearer with a neatly groomed hoo-ha. I’d just finished cleaning the shower when there was a knock at my door.
A burst of color, in the form of flowers and a flush-faced hottie, greeted me.
“Pansies,” Finn puffed. “I stole them from the garden. The concierge was watching me through the window and looked pissed, so I may have crushed them a bit as I ran.” He looked edgily over his shoulder, and I sucked my bottom lip into my mouth to stop the laughter. “I think I lost her, though.”
“The blonde concierge with the ponytail? The one that can barely see over the desk. You ran from her?”
“Hey, I live with several little blonde people, all of whom kick my ass frequently.”
“Then I guess you better come in before she hunts you down.” I stood to the side, leaning against the door frame as Finn strode in. It looked like he’d showered too. His hair was damp and in a bun, but tiny curls clung to the nape of his neck. His arm brushed mine as he passed, and my thighs clenched on impulse. Hoping not looking would make the want go away, I forced my eyes closed and held them so tightly I could hear my lashes collide. But it only heightened my senses. I could taste the memory of his lips on my tongue, and damn, that boy smelled good. With one discreet sniff, I was at the beach, by his side, face down with my bikini undone while he wrote his name on my back with sunscreen.
“You like the scent? It’s a lovely, sweet smell. Very delicate.” I looked at him blankly. “The flowers. You sniffed them as I walked past.”
“Oh. Yes. The flowers. Right.” Smiling like the idiot I was, I watched as he took a glass from beside the mini-bar, filled it with water, and neatly arranged the pansies he then placed beside the bed.
“There. They look pretty. Just like you.”
“Number three. Number three. Number three,”I repeated as he stood facing the bed, his eyes on the ugly carpet. “Scarlett. I lied. I didn’t come here to talk about the veranda.”
“This might be hard to believe, but I know. I saw through your brilliant ruse. You came to tell me about Herman, right?” I took two beers from the mini-bar, handed one to Finn, and then flopped onto the bed. “I’m ready. Give me everything.” I opened my beer and took a large gulp.
Finn gasped with his mouth open, swallowed, then said the last thing I ever expected.“Scarlett, I have a daughter.”
Swallow the liquid in your mouth before you reply.I gulped again.
“You have a what now?”
“Iris. I have an Iris.” He shook his head and made a cute nervous grunt that warmed and tickled my belly. “A daughter. I mean. Her name is Iris and she’s amazing.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. “Isn’t she beautiful?” he asked, sliding out and then handing me a photo. “She’s sweet and kind, and up till recently, has been the single best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’ve hated every minute of hiding this part of me from you, and I wanted to tell you for a long time, but I didn’t know how. That may sound cowardly or deceitful, which I guess it is, but I can explain and hope that one day you can forgive me.”
Two things were happening in my body simultaneously. My heart was aching. I could see the pain in Finn’s eyes. It hurt to see it. It hurt to know and feel it. The other was tingling. Not like a stroke or anything, but with need. I was desperate to hold him, to kiss him and tell him, ‘I see you. I know. I understand. I forgive you.’I felt utterly incapable of saying anything remotely close to that, though, so I did the next best thing.
“I understand more than you know, Finn.” With my tingling fingers, I took my phone from the nightstand, opened my gallery, and passed it to Finn.
Nodding toward the screen he couldn’t take his eyes from, his cheeks grew a deep, ruddy pink, and his eyes shone with tears, “Scar? This is why you leave at four. This is your little boy.” It was a question and an answer.
“Yes, it is. That’s my son, Benjamin. He’s seven, too. Only Jason, HR Jan, and Teddy know about him. I made it that way because…well, I think you can understand why.”
A single tear sat on his cheek as he turned to me and smiled. “Yeah, I think I can, Red.” My stomach swooped. It’s amazing how such a simple act could mean so much. It could heal so many years of loneliness. “He’s a handsome boy. He looks just like you. The same freckles in the same spots. I hope he doesn’t throw a cock punch like his mum, though.”
“Hey. My mum was Spanish. I carry the Latin temper within me. But yes, he is much better tempered than me. There is no way I would have put up with all the lasso practice I submitted him to before that damn party.”
Finn laughed, and we then fell into contemplative silence as we studied our babies’ faces. I couldn’t stop smiling. Iris was the cutest red-haired, blue-eyed little girl I’d ever seen. She had the same dimples as her dad and the same cheeky smile. I lost myself in thought, not only about Iris and Ben, but about what this all meant. The level of trust between us meant something that couldn’t be ignored.
A gentle touch on my hand broke my contemplation. Finn was kneeling before me. I hadn’t even noticed him moving.
“Promise me, Finn. Promise you don’t mind that I have a son and I didn’t tell you.”