Page 37 of Songbird
“I think it’s hilarious,” I correct with another delighted chuckle.
Dakota zooms around the far side of the pile and leaps into it again, and Finn scowls. “I knew she was going to do this,” he mutters.
“So why did you let her off the porch?”
He rolls his eyes and rounds the dirt pile, trying to get to Dakota from a better angle. “Because I’m a weak-ass dog-dad, that’s why.”
Oh my God. I rest my fingers on my throat, checking that I’m still alive as my body swoons.
Dakota’s filthy now and totally loving life. She rolls one way, then the other, bathing in the dirt, twisting and tossing and burying herself deeper. She’s got one eye on Finn, luring him in with apparent defeat before dodging his grasp at the very last moment over and over. Finally, Finn makes a frustrated leap for her, but she’s too fast, and he lands face down in the dirt just as Dakota bolts into the trees.
“I’ll get her!” I cry before I take off at a run.
“Damn it,” Finn curses, and a moment later I hear his foot falls behind me as he follows me into the woods. “Rosie?” he shouts. “Come back!”
His voice triggers my instinct to run, and maybe I should slow down but I don’t. I can still see Dakota’s coat flashing between the trees in the distance, and I don’t want to lose her, plus the sound of Finn gaining on me only makes me move faster. I want to test him. Tease him. See what will happen when he catches me.
My heart hammers in my chest. I’ve never felt alive like this. Free, flying, and safe to chase the high of a little danger without being afraid for my life. I don’t realize I’m laughing until I hear the echo of it in the air, and the sound pushes my soul even higher.
Dakota makes a sharp right turn and I follow her, weaving between the trees as we round our way in an arc back toward thecabin. I can sense Finn gaining on me and I know no matter how hard I pump my legs, his are longer. It’s only a matter of time before he gets me.
I’m still taken by surprise when his hard arm wraps around my waist, and he lifts me clear off the ground. I shriek and squeeze my eyes closed as he spins me around once, then twice. Dirt and leaves crunch under his feet and my back presses against his hard, hot chest until we’ve slowed enough that he can set me down without both of us tumbling to the ground.
When he does release me, it’s against a tree trunk, and he cages me in with his hands set above my head and his heaving, sweaty body crowding me against the rough bark.
I’m laughing, trying to catch my breath, when an amused smirk lifts his mouth, and I become extra aware of the way my heart speeds up. He’s filthy, covered in dirt and sweat, and it’s so damn sexy.
“You think you can fly from me, Songbird?” he asks quietly before he slips a hand behind my head and presses me harder against the tree. His entire body is up against mine with a hard kind of heat that makes it impossible to think. His thumb sweeps up over the pulse in my neck, across my jaw, and over my cheekbone, leaving a silty trail of dirt on my skin.
I tip my head back to meet his eyes, my heart fluttering in the hollow of my throat. “I think it’s fun to try.”
His full mouth twitches into a crooked smile and he dips his head closer—close enough that I can see all the individual flecks of gold in his caramel-colored eyes.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, brow furrowing as if my face tortures him.
I swallow and watch his mouth as it inches toward my upturned lips.Kiss me, I beg silently.Please, Finn. Put your mouth on me.
I don’t know where his breath ends and mine begins when an urgent, high-pitched screeching of an alarm pierces the air. We both startle, and Dakota bolts back through the trees, barking and tossing her head. Finn jerks away from me like the warning is meant for him.
I run a nervous hand over my hair and try to regain my balance with a glance in the direction of the screeching. “What is that noise?”
“It sounds like the smoke alarm,” Finn says, “but—”
“Oh no!” I catch his eyes with a horrified look. “The pudding!”
It takes him less than a heartbeat to understand the danger. Then he grabs my hand and takes off at a run. He shortens his stride so I can keep up with him, but I run as fast as I can, terrified that I’ve burned down Finn’s home. The cabin his parents built. My refuge. The place I’m starting to wish I never had to leave.
Finn’s hand is large and warm, his skin worn and rough, and I wish I could enjoy feeling it wrapped around mine, but I’m too anxious to get back to the cabin. Chasing Dakota didn’t lead us too far in the other direction, and all my weaving around trees hasn’t messed with Finn’s bearings, so the way he leads me back only takes a minute or two. When we burst into the clearing with Dakota yapping at our heels, I’m relieved to see there’s no smoke in the air, but the sound of the alarm is louder and more insistent, so I don’t assume we’re out of danger just yet.
Finn rushes up the porch steps, dragging me behind him, and throws open the front door. The cabin is hazy and smoke seeps from the oven in thin, gray vines. I blink at the sting in my eyes and cover my mouth to filter the smell, but Finn bolts to the kitchen, flings open the oven door, and grabs a nearby dish towel to pull the baking pan off the metal rack.
I hang back, embarrassed and guilty, as he drops the dish into the sink and then pushes open the nearest windows. Taking thehint, I hurry to the opposite side of the cabin and open the windows there too, while Finn flips on the ceiling fan. When every door and window in the cabin is opened and the smoke starts to drift away, Finn climbs up onto a dining chair and switches off the blinking smoke alarm. The silence afterward is loud in comparison.
“I’m so sorry, Finn,” I say. “I wanted to do something nice for you. It’s my grandmother’s favorite and the only thing I know how to make.” I rub my eyes and hope he assumes my tears are due to the smoke. “I guess it’s not as foolproof as I thought.”
“Hey.” Finn’s big hands land on my shoulders and he pulls me against his bare chest so he can envelop me in his arms. “It’s okay. It could have happened to anyone.”
“I doubt it.”
