Finlay Donovan Knocks 'Em Dead(Finlay Donovan #2)(7)

My phone vibrated on the nightstand. I set down the carton of ice cream and dragged the phone toward me, grinning when Julian’s picture flashed on the screen.

You home? he asked.

Yes.

Up for company?

Headlights swung through the gaps in the blinds, flooding my bedroom with light. I rolled out of bed and padded to the window, pushing down a slat to find his maroon Jeep idling in my driveway.

Be right out, I texted back.

I slipped on a pair of tennis shoes, dragging a sweatshirt over my head as I descended the stairs. The air outside was sharp and cold, and I hugged my sweatshirt around myself as I hurried across the lawn. With a shiver, I threw open the passenger door of Julian’s Jeep. I’d hardly had a chance to slam it closed when he leaned over the gearshift, taking my face in his hands.

The pads of his fingers were soft, the skin around his mouth smooth and freshly shaven. He smelled like nutmeg and aftershave, and the smell of woodsmoke clung to the thick wool of his sweater.

“Happy Thanksgiving,” he said, grinning against my lips. He pulled back far enough to tug a knit hat over my head, brushing my hair back from my face and tucking it behind my ears. His honey-gold locks were hidden beneath a dark beanie, the soft curls peeking out from underneath it.

“What are you doing here?” I asked as I spooled one around my finger. “I thought you were spending the holiday with your parents.”

“I did.” His thumb traced a lazy outline around my lips. “I was on my way home. You left your hat at my apartment last week. Thought you might be missing it.”

“Oh,” I said, rising onto my knees and looping my arms around his neck, “I was definitely missing it.”

His eyes twinkled as he reached under his seat. The driver’s seat slid back on its track, dragging us with it. “Missing anything else?”

“I can think of a few things,” I said, climbing over the gearshift, not caring if Mrs. Haggerty peeped out her window and gave herself a heart attack.

“I needed to see you,” he murmured between kisses. His hand slid under the cocoon of my sweatshirt, drawing an icy pattern up my bare back and pausing in the middle where my bra strap should have been. He grinned, his low moan rumbling against my lips as his hands moved down to my thighs and he pulled me harder against his lap.

There was too much clothing involved. I could barely feel him through his leather bomber jacket and the thick cables of his sweater. But I was definitely feeling something through the denim of his jeans.

“Is your van in the garage?” he asked as the windows began to fog.

I choked out a laugh, remembering how things had turned out for the last man who’d gotten into the back of my van. The van was in the garage. But so were my children’s car seats, a box of fruit snacks, and a case of baby wipes. I couldn’t believe I was actually considering it.

“The kids are at my parents’ for the weekend. You want to come in?” The words came out in a desperate rush, hot and sticky in the air between us, too late to take them back.

He caught my bottom lip between his teeth “What about Vero?”

“At her cousin’s,” I panted.

His tongue crashed into mine, and I was pretty sure I would get naked and do it on the front lawn if it got any hotter in his Jeep. He grabbed my hand as I reached for the door. “Wait. We shouldn’t,” he said between ragged breaths. “I can’t stay. I have to get home and pack. The guys want to be on the road at six A.M.”

I sat up, disoriented, my hat falling askew. “Where are you going?”

His lips were swollen, his eyes still hungry. “Our professors are away at a conference next week. They gave us a few extra days off to study for exams. Some of us are heading down to Panama City to go camping for the week.”

“You’re going to Florida?”

“It was an impulse trip,” he said, smoothing back my flyaway hairs and fixing my cap. “My boss let me trade a few shifts at the bar. We just booked the campsite this week.”

I remembered Steven’s college breaks to Daytona and Miami with his fraternity buddies. I’d never been invited, and I had never been privy to the details after. But that didn’t mean I was ignorant. “Just you and the guys?”

“And a few people from school,” he said. I sat back, putting a few inches between us. Julian took me gently by the chin. “We’re just going to grab some sun and unwind. That’s all. I’ll be back in a week.”

Green colored my visions of college coeds in tiny bikinis and even tinier tents. I had no right to feel jealous. Julian and I weren’t serious. He’d never even been inside my house. He’d never met my kids or Vero or my ex. “Oh,” I said as the flip side of that equation hit me like a slap in the face.

In the entire month that we’d been seeing each other, I’d never met any of his friends either.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I said, pasting on a smile. What did I expect from him? I had two children and a job and a house I was responsible for. Had I seriously expected him to invite me along? “It’s fine,” I insisted. “You should go. Have a good time.”

“Are you sure? Because if something’s wrong, maybe we should—”

I took him by the face and kissed him. Because I didn’t want him to finish that sentence. Maybe we should stop seeing each other. Maybe we should take things slower. Maybe we should talk about it. I didn’t want to do any of those things. I wanted to have sex with him in his Jeep, and maybe even on the crumb-crusted floor of my minivan. I didn’t want to think about him at the beach, in a sleeping bag with someone else.