She eyeballed his hair and the crease on his cheek where papers had been stuck to him. "Living the wild life, huh?"
"The wildest." He looked past her. "So who's the fat cat?"
She turned and followed his line of sight to Thor, who'd curled up in a sunspot next to her box to doze. "I'll have you know that's my fierce, very protective guard dog."
"Dog?"
"Yes!"
He scratched his jaw while eyeing Thor speculatively. "If you say so."
"He protects me," she said. "In fact, he won't let anyone get near me. And don't even think about trying to touch him, he hates men."
"Not me," Finn said. "Dogs love me."
"No, really-" she started but Finn crossed the courtyard and crouched low, holding his hand out to Thor, who had opened his eyes and was watching Finn approach.
"Careful-" Pru warned. "He's like you without caffeine, only he's like that all the time. He might nip-"
To her utter shock, Thor actually moved toward Finn in a flutter of bravery, his little paws taking him a step closer, his tail wagging in a hopeful gesture that, as always, made Pru's heart hurt.
Then, unbelievably, Thor licked Finn's fist.
"Atta boy," Finn said approvingly in an easy voice full of warmth and affection. "She says you're a dog, what do you think?"
Thor panted happily and rolled over, exposing his very soft, slightly enlarged belly.
"What's his name?" Finn asked, head bent, loving up on her dog.
She glared at Thor. "Benedict Arnold."
Benedict Arnold ignored her completely and she sighed. "Thor."
Finn snorted. "A real killer, huh?"
"Yes, actually, he-"
And that's when Thor strained to reach up and lick Finn's chin. Pru couldn't exactly blame him, she wanted to do the same.
And then . . . her poor-sighted, man-hater of a dog climbed right into Finn's arms and melted like butter on a hot roll. Except minus the hot roll and add a hot guy.
"I can't believe it," she said to herself, watching as Thor settled against Finn's chest like he belonged there, setting his head on Finn's broad shoulder.
"You were saying?" he asked on a soft laugh.
She stared at him, a little dazzled by the laugh. And then there was that stubble and she wondered . . . if he kissed her now and then nuzzled her throat like he had the other night, would it leave a whisker burn?
She wouldn't mind that . . . "Do you have a dog?" she asked.
"No, but someday," he said, reminding her of what Willa had told her, that he wanted a house outside the city and a big dog.
"So what are you doing today?" he asked.
She pointed to the box. "Unpacking some more."
"And you say I need a fun whisperer," he teased.
"You were asleep at your desk," she said. "My statement stands. You most definitely need a fun whisperer."
"I'll put fun on my calendar, how's that sound?"
She laughed. "Planning the fun kinda takes the fun out of fun. And anyway, maybe it's also about adventure. Spontaneous adventure."
"I don't know," he murmured, watching her as he still stroked Thor into a pleasure coma. "I can think of a few things that if planned right, would be the epitome of fun and adventurous."
She lifted her gaze from her dog's contented face to Finn's and found his eyes warm and lit with something. Amusement? Challenge? "Like?"
He set Thor down, back in the sunspot, and rising to his full height, shifted toward Pru.
She backed up a step, a purely instinctual move because while her body knew how badly it wanted him, her mind was all too well aware that it was a colossally stupid move of the highest order.
He merely stepped forward again, backing her flush to the brick wall lining the courtyard.
Her breathing had gone ragged. Even more so when he leaned into her with his hands on either side of her head. "You're a contradiction," he murmured. "A push pull."
"Maybe it's because we're oil and water," she managed.
Hands still on her, blocking her escape-not that she wanted to escape those strong arms and that talented mouth-he flashed her a hot look. "Do you want this, Pru?"
She wasn't one hundred percent certain what "this" was, but she was one hundred percent certain that she wanted it. And God help her, she wanted it bad, too. When she gave a jerky nod, his hand came up and cupped her jaw, his fingers sliding into her hair, his thumb slowly, lazily, rasping over her lower lip. He watched the movement with a heat that made her legs wobble.
She swallowed hard. "We're in the center of the courtyard."
"What happened to adventurous?" he murmured, his thumb making another slow, intoxicating pass over her lip.
As always, her mouth worked independently of her brain and opened so she could sink her teeth lightly into the pad of his thumb.
He hissed in a breath. The sound egged her on and she sucked his thumb between her lips.
His eyes dilated to black.
Yeah. Suddenly she was feeling very . . . adventurous. Before she could stop herself, her arms encircled his broad shoulders, her fingers sinking into his hair.
This wrenched a low, sexy "mmmm" from him like he was a big, rumbling wildcat. A big, rumbly wildcat who clearly wanted more because he drew her up against him and lowered his lips to hers.
Meeting him halfway, she went up on her tiptoes. He slid a hand up her back to palm the back of her neck, holding her right where he wanted her. Then and only then did his mouth finally cover hers, his kiss slow and sweet.
After, he pulled back and looked into her eyes, smiling at whatever he saw-probably dazed lust. He kissed her again, not slow and most definitely not sweet this time. Again he ended it too soon but when he lifted his head, the rough pad of his thumb slid back and forth over her jaw while she struggled to turn her brain back on.
"Pru."
And oh, that deliciously rough morning voice. It slid over her like the morning sun, and made her eyes drift shut.
"You take the rugrat," he said. "I'll get your box."
Her eyes flew open. He was holding Thor again. "What?"
"I'll help you upstairs," he said.
Where her bed was. Oh God, had she made her bed? Wait-was she wearing good panties?
She mentally shook herself because none of that mattered. You're not going there with him, remember? She couldn't, wouldn't, because she hadn't yet told him who she was. She wasn't ready to do that. Because she knew that once she did, this would be over. He wouldn't want to be friends with the woman whose family had stolen his. He wouldn't want to make her fancy virgin cocktails or pet her silly dog.
Or kiss her stupid . . .
The truth was, he was the best thing to happen to her in a damn long time. And yes, it was selfish. And wrong.
And she hated herself for it.
But she couldn't tell him, not yet. "I've got it," she said. "Really. I'm good."
She just wished she meant it.
Chapter 10.
#KarmaIsABitch It was rare for Finn to find himself on unsure ground. Typically if he needed something, he handled it himself. If he wanted something, he went after it.
He both wanted and needed Pru. That was fact. The knowledge had been sitting in the frontal lobe of his brain and in the bottom of his gut, and also definitely decidedly south of both.
It'd been like that for him since the night she'd walked into his pub dripping wet and smiled that smile at him. And then she'd nailed him with that dart and he'd kissed her, and the problem had only compounded itself.
She drove him nuts, in the very best of ways.
And now she'd brought him a coffee and he'd kissed the daylights out of her again. But this time she didn't seem to want to climb him like a tree. She wanted to escape him.
Badly too, given the sudden panic in her eyes.
It should have been his clue to back off. Walk away.
But he found himself unable to do that.
"How about I just get you upstairs with your stuff," he said, going for as nonthreatening as possible. He bent to put Thor down so he could pick up the box but the dog had other ideas and clung like a monkey. He glanced down. "You sure he's a dog?"
Some of the stress left Pru at that and she laughed a little. "Yes, but whatever you do, don't tell him." She covered Thor's ears. "I think that he thinks he's a grizzly."
Finn met Thor's wary gaze. The little guy really was the most ridiculous looking thing he'd ever seen. Bedraggled, patchy, mud brown fur, he had one ear up and one ear down, a long nose, a small mouth that lifted only on one side like he was half smiling, half smirking, and the biggest, brownest eyes he'd ever seen. Hell, his ears and eyes alone were bigger than the rest of him, and the rest of him didn't weigh as much as a pair of boots. "Little Man Syndrome, huh?" he asked the dog sympathetically.
"He just likes to be carried," Pru said. "He likes to be tall. And he can see better too. Once you pick him up, he won't let you put him down."
Finn tested this theory by once again starting to bend over.
Thor growled. Laughing, Finn tightened his grip on the little guy. "Don't worry, I've got ya," he said and reached to pick up Pru's box with his other hand.
Holy shit, it weighed a ton.
"What are you doing?" Pru asked, crouching at his side. Her voice was tight again. "I said I've got it."
"Pru, it weighs a ton. How far did you carry this thing?"
"Not far," she said, tug-o-warring with him. "Let go-"
"You're as stubborn as Thor, but I'm already here," he said. "Let me help-"
"No." She tried to wrench the box from him, her expression more than a little desperate now, which stopped him in his tracks. Whatever it was in the damn box, she didn't want him to see it, and he immediately backed off-just as she whirled from him. She lost her grip, and the box literally fell apart, the cardboard bottom giving way, the contents hitting the ground.
"Oh no," she breathed and hit her knees on the ground in front of a few old, beat-up photo albums, a few cheap plastic picture frames, and a glass one, which had shattered into a thousand pieces. "It broke," she whispered.
There was something in her voice, something as fragile as the now broken glass frame shattered in shards and pieces at their feet, and it made Finn's chest hurt. Even more so when he saw the picture free of its frame. A little girl standing between two adults, each holding one of her hands.
Pru, he thought, looking into those brown eyes. Pru . . . and her parents?
Her posture said it all as she reached right into the shards of glass for the picture, carefully brushing it clean to hug it against her chest like it meant the entire world to her.
Fuck. "Pru, here, let me-"
"No, it's fine. I'm fine," she protested, pushing his hands away when he began to gather up the photo albums. "I told you I've got this!"
Thor, soaking up Pru's anxiety, lifted his head and began to howl.
Pru looked close to tears.
Eddie, a.k.a. Old Guy, came out of the alley, presumably to help, took one look at the mess that Finn had found himself in, and did an about-face.
Finn gently squeezed Thor to him. "Quiet," he said in a firm voice.
Thor went quiet.
Pru sucked in a breath, looking surprised right out of her impending tears, thank God. "Stop," he said as she reached into the glass for another picture with absolutely no regard for her own safety. Unable to put Thor down and risk him cutting his paws, he held the dog tight to his chest and reached for Pru's hand with his free one. Pulling her to her feet, he said, "Let's get Thor upstairs and then I'll come back and-"
"I'm not leaving it, any of it."