Page 38 of Work and Play
I take his head in my hands and turn him to face me, taking in the blush on his stubbled cheeks. Cue my heart melting into a puddle of goo. “You don’t like scary movies?”
Finn whips his head back and forth. “Not at all.” He visible shudders. “I got totally creeped out by watching The Shining when I was a teenager, and ever since then, I just can’t.”
My amusement at this vulnerability must not be as well hidden as I thought because his eyes narrow, and Finn pokes at my bare side. “Don’t laugh, woman.”
A giggle sneaks past my lips. “Sorry.”
“Now you’ve done it,” he mock growls before his hands come to my waist and he starts to tickle. I shriek in surprise and we fall back on the bed in a tangle of laughter.
Eventually, we manage to get dressed — well, if loose shorts for Finn and one of his T-shirts for me counts as dressed. We order pizza, I grab some cut up veggies I had in the fridge, and we picnic on his bed. Finn is merciless in teasing me about my hot sauce addiction, watching in horror as I pour it all over my slice of pizza.
“You try going to an all-girls school that served the blandest food ever for lunch and tell me you wouldn’t fall in love with hot sauce the second you had freedom over your lunches,” I say in all seriousness, licking a drop of hot sauce off my finger. When I go to put the next sauce-covered finger in my mouth, Finn grabs it and brings it to his mouth, sucking it off in a way that would make my panties wet. If I were wearing any.
And that’s how round three of the BSE — best sex ever — starts. Is there a better way to spend a wet, wintery day? I don’t think so.
All good things must come to an end, however, and the next morning I wake up feeling no small amount of dread as the idea of facing reality sets in. Both Finn and I have to go to the winery today, and we haven’t talked about what that’ll be like. Will whatever this is between us exist outside the bubble of our Airbnb?
He gives me a sweet kiss when I leave his room to go and get dressed in my own. We’ve already agreed to drive together, seeing as Finn can’t exactly bend his knee very well right now. That will make sense to anyone who might see us. But will he hold my hand, will he touch me, in front of other people? Or will he go back to being the man who keeps me at arm’s length? I still have yet to figure out why that is, and as I stand in the bathroom brushing my teeth, I ponder that question. Thinking back, the signs of our mutual attraction have been glaringly obvious since the second I bumped into him my first day in Dogwood Cove. But he has switched from hot and cold around me so often, my head spins. I want to believe things are different now, that we’ve moved past the indecisiveness and solidly into some sort of undefined relationship, but what if I’m wrong?
My nerves and uncertainty hovers around me the entire drive to the winery, not diminished at all by the fact that Finn is holding my hand, and his thumb is stroking my knuckles. He doesn’t say anything, just looks out the window as we make the short trip. I can only assume he’s caught up in his own thoughts just as much as I am.
When we get to the winery, he gives my hand one final squeeze and at last peeks over at me with a brief smile. “I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?”
I nod. Should we hug? Do I lean in for a kiss? Apparently, the answer to both questions is no as Finn climbs out of my car and limps slowly toward the barn that houses his equipment. I tried to convince him to take his crutches, but he just scoffed and said he was fine. Men.
His dismissive departure rattles me slightly, but I try to rationalize it. We’re putting on a professional front at work. Okay, I can do this. I pull on my toque and gloves, get out of my car, and make my way through the cold to the tasting room. Once I’m inside, I peel off my winter wear and look around in satisfaction. The room is coming together just as I imagined. It’s warm, inviting, eclectic, and decadent all at once. It’s a space that says, “Come in, have a drink, stay a while.” Which is exactly what I wanted.
“It is lovely, Ashley.” Pierre’s admiring voice reaches me and I turn to meet him with a smile.
“Thank you.”
The door to the outside opens and Finn hobbles in. Pierre rushes over to him instantly. “What are you doing walking around like that? You’ll do more damage, you fool.” He grabs Finn’s arm and helps him over to one of the chairs that still has plastic covering the cushion. Finn sinks down on it and turns to Pierre with a grateful smile.
“I’m fine, but thanks.”
Fine? He’s fine? Well, I’m not. He hasn’t even glanced at me yet. And now he’s deep in conversation with Pierre about some gadget he wants for blending, and I can’t ignore the hurt blossoming inside. There’s keeping things professional, and then there’s ignoring the woman you had sex with multiple times last night. And what he’s doing, is definitely the latter. Honestly, it’s cheapening everything we shared, and making me feel like all he did was take advantage of my proximity the other night.
As I stew in my own thoughts, pain and anger building inside my heart, Finn gets up, and with a final word to Pierre, he leaves. All without saying a single word to me.
That’s enough to send me over the edge. The past thirty-six hours meant something to me, and now I find myself questioning if they meant anything to him. They were amazing, and I felt connected to him in a way I never have before. So this man, this man who won’t give me the time of day just because we aren’t holed up in a bedroom somewhere, this man needs to get lost. I’m confused, I’m hurt, and I’m mad.
“Excuse me, Pierre, I forgot something in my car.”
I grab my toque and slam it on my head, leaving my jacket behind and I head outside, not waiting for his reply. A quick glance around doesn’t reveal where Finn has gone, so I head to the barn that houses his tanks and blending room, but the door is locked. Where is he?
I walk around the barn toward the fields that slope down to a small lake that is part of the next property over. Even as my mind swirls with confusion and annoyance toward Finn, the design part of me never stops. I could see landscaping this area into a perfect picnic spot for guests, maybe even the occasional wedding.
I find the man in question standing on the edge of the hillside, staring out. Part of me wants to get angry at his stupid decision to limp out here on the uneven ground, but I’m so frustrated. If he wants to be an idiot, he can just go right ahead and do that.
“What the hell is going on?”
He turns at my voice, and I take in the play of emotions over his face. Hurt, guilt, defensiveness and confusion all meld together. Whatever’s going on inside his head, it can’t be easy on him, and that right there softens my anger. I still want an explanation, but I’m not feeling as if I was used for sex like I was starting to back in the tasting room.
“Look, Finn, maybe you don’t realize this, but fucking a woman and then ignoring her the next day isn’t cool. Like, at all. Which means there had better be a reason you keep going back and forth around me. I’m trying really hard to believe that, because if there isn’t, then you’re just an ass who’s playing with my emotions. And my ability to judge people’s intentions is usually pretty good, and that’s not what I was feeling last night.”
The stricken expression he gives me is all the evidence I need to know I’m right. There is a reason, he’s not just being a jerk.
“Just tell me, Finn,” I say quietly.
