Page 51 of Once Bitten

Chapter Nineteen

“It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new lii-iiife, foo-oo-ooor me...” I sang as I held my scarf up over my head, watching it catch the wind and making it dance.

“And I’m feelin’ good...” Finn finished and took his eyes off the road for a moment to grin at me.

We were barreling down the highway in a convertible Finn had made appear out of nowhere, (I’m guessing it had something to do with the whispering to the concierge that morning as we came back from a walk along the Seine and a quick window shop).

After my morning shower after we got back from our walk, Finn had given me five minutes to get dressed and pack an overnight bag. “Faster woman, faster! You won’t be needing too many clothes!” Finn rushed me as he watched me throw dress after dress into a small carry on.

“But I don’t know what to bring if you don’t tell me where we’re going!” I yelled as I ran around, his excitement rubbing off on me.

“And....stop! Let’s go, France doesn’t wait for slow packers!” He grabbed my hand and bag and pulled me out the door, giving me just enough time to pocket my phone and purse.

“Monsieur O’Reilly, Mademoiselle Sinclair, your car is ready,” the doorman told us and pointed to the convertible waiting in front to the hotel.

“Thank you, Philippe.” Finn said politely, tucking a generous tip into his pocket.

An hour later, he still hadn’t told me where we were going, and I couldn’t tell from the road signs that whizzed by too fast for me to read. But I couldn’t care less.

The old school songs radio station was turned up high and we sang along to songs we’d forgotten that we even knew. And I felt more carefree and content than I could ever remember.

“Hey, you’re not such a bad singer,” I admitted to Finn.

“Well, I was a rockstar in a former life, but, you know, the groupies, the groupies just became too much. I wanted them to love me for me, not my smooth dulcet tones and sexy white man dancing.” He said soberly.

“Oooh, and here I thought you wanted to me love you for your big cock.”

“Oh my, Ms Kara, you do have such a potty mouth.”

“You liked that last night!”

He cocked his eyebrow at me, and I couldn’t help but let out a whoop of laughter, seemingly for no reason.

“What was that for?”

“No reason; I’m just happy,” I shrugged, and turned my attention to the fields of canola blossoms stretched out for miles in front of us.

“Hey,” Finn said, squeezing my hand.

I turned back to face him.

“Me too.”

***

Two hours and two heads resembling birds’ nests later, he exited off the highway.

“Lyon.” I read off the sign, craning my neck as he sped past. “Oh my god! We’re going to Lyon?” Lyon, as every French guidebook had told me, was the gastronomic belly of the country, which was saying something in France.

Finn grinned and nodded.

“Wheeee!!! Lyon! Wow!” I whooped, my excitement level increasing to an almost painful peak. “It’s so close to Paris?”

“About three hours I’d say, we’re almost there. And I have a surprise for you.”

I bit back the urge to whoop again, in case Finn went deaf. I opted instead to lean over and press a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Finn?”