Fighting Redemption(14)

She drew a burning breath into her lungs.

“I missed you, Ryan,” she said thickly.

Those hard, dark eyes of his softened, reminding her of who he used to be. “I missed you too.”

“It’s been six years.”

Ryan nodded again, staring at her, and replied softly, “I know.”

A beat of time passed, and then another, until Jake called out from the kitchen. “Fin, are you going to bring that food in here or do I have to serve up Crookshanks for dinner? I’m starving.”

Flustered, Fin picked up her bags. “Hungry?”

He smiled slowly. “Always.”

Ryan followed her into the kitchen and took hold of the beer Jake held out to him. “Thanks.”

She picked up her wine and leaned against the counter as Jake pulled out plates. Ryan stepped into the room and suddenly the quaint cottage kitchen felt tiny.

“So … Tell me about Afghanistan?” she asked. Jake wasn’t able to tell her much during their Skype chats, and she wanted to know everything. She needed the distraction because her fingers were aching to touch Ryan, wanting to make sure he was real and not an illusion.

“It’s hot,” Jake replied.

“And dusty,” Ryan added.

“The bunks on base are small,” Jake told her as he carried their dinner to the table.

“Jake’s learning to play the guitar.”

Fin raised her brows at Jake as they all sat down at the dining table. “Really?”

Jake grinned. “Yep.”

Ryan looked at her across the table. “And it’s killing us. Your cat could play better than he does.”

Jake leaned over the table and punched Ryan in the arm with a laugh. “Ryan’s lazy,” Jake told her as they started eating. “He falls asleep during all our training exercises.”

Ryan, taking a sip of his beer, almost spat it out. “Fuck off. That was you!” Ryan looked at Fin, laughter in his eyes. “One morning Jake was sleeping like the dead and missed training. He was sleeping on a camp bed so we carried him out to the mess hall. Eventually he woke up, looking around at everyone eating breakfast and watching him snore like a freight train.”

“I woke to a standing ovation,” Jake boasted.

“And baked beans down your pants.”

Fin burst out laughing, and as they one upped each other with stories through dinner, her laughter almost turned to tears. How had she ever managed without them?

“So, what’s going on with you?” Ryan asked as they stood washing and drying dishes at the sink.

Jake, reclining on the couch with his feet on the coffee table, called out, “Fin’s a caped climate change crusader now, aren’t you, Fin?” He pointed the remote at the television and began channel flicking.

“I work at the Department of Environment and Conservation now,” she told him and her lips twitched, “but I save my Supergirl suit for special occasions.”





Ryan chuckled. “You’ve been there for over two years now?”

Her mouth fell open. “You know?”

“I know.”

Of course he knew. Jake never tired of talking about her, and Ryan never tired of hearing it. He heard every detail of her life from Jake, and it obviously hadn’t been enough because here he was.

Fin hung the tea towel over the rack on the oven door. “So I guess you know I’m headed for Antarctica in two weeks?”

Ryan should have felt relieved. Two weeks with Fin was going to be hard enough knowing he had to keep his distance, but he was worried about her being in Antarctica. What if she got caught in a snow storm, or fell down a deep crevice? Shit. He was acting like an irrational twat. Ryan gave himself a mental shake and forced a grin. “I always said you were going to do big things with your life.”

“You did,” she agreed.

Ryan took hold of her hand and pulled her a little closer. She looked up at him and his heart hammered in his chest when her green eyes fixed on his. “I’m proud of you, you know.”

Fin licked her lips. “You are?”

His eyes fell to her mouth and all the blood in his body began heading in one, single-minded direction. He cursed under his breath. Two weeks of this? What had he been thinking?

Ryan let go and stepped back. Clearing his throat, he said, “I think I’ll head to bed.”

“You don’t want a coffee or anything first?”

“No. I’m good, thanks.”

He turned to leave.

“Ryan, wait!”

He paused.

“I need to make up the bed in the guest room for you.”

“No,” he said firmly. “I can do it. Jake showed me where the sheets are.”

“Yes, but there’s a whole bunch of different sizes in there,” she pointed out. “It won’t take a minute.”

He backed up. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Do mine too, Fin!” Jake called out.

“Do your own,” she retorted as she left the kitchen for the laundry at the back of the house.

“Why does Ryan get his done and I don’t?”

She came back out under a pile of sheets, quilts, and pillows. “Because Ryan is a guest.”

“Ryan isn’t a guest, he’s family.” Jake turned on the couch and looked over his shoulder. “Right, Kendall?”