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“No, I should go out and search for him.” She tried to pull away, but he held her close.
“You’re not driving in this condition. Come on, you need something to calm you down.”
He sat her in his booth and headed to the bar. He picked up the bottle of Jameson and a second glass, then pulled out his cell phone. He texted Cal.
Message your sister back you little shit. She’s scared to death.
He returned to find her slumped over, her forehead resting against the table.
At the sound of the glass and bottle clinking, she sat up and mumbled, “I really don’t know what to do anymore. That kid makes me so angry. He has no consideration for anything I do. For everything I’ve done for him.” She jumped up from the booth and paced the restaurant, her arms gesturing with her words. “Why should I bother worrying? He wants to be on his own, take care of himself, then I should let him. Just call his bluff.” She looked up at Finn with tortured eyes. “What do you think?”
No way. He wasn’t going to get involved. He definitely wasn’t going to tell her how to raise her brother. Their relationship—their fragile new relationship—was tricky enough already. She couldn’t see what was right in front of her—a scared boy who feared losing the one rock-steady person he had left in his life. It was as plain as day to Finn. The more Cal acted out, the more she paid attention to him and the more she needed to watch over him. The more he proved he couldn’t take care of himself, the longer he ensured she would keep him close.
“I think you should relax and have a drink with me.”
She gave him a fake laugh. “You’re really trying your best not to get involved in this, aren’t you?”
He poured her a drink and held it out. She took the glass and downed it in one gulp. He filled it up again.
“It’s not my place, V. You know I will do whatever I can to help, but I won’t ruin our relationship by saying the wrong thing when it comes to raising your brother. You’re doing just fine on your own. You’ll figure it out.”
He hoped so. And soon. Because if she ever wanted a life of her own, she was going to have to cut the apron strings.
She gave him a half smile, slumped back into the booth, and raised her glass to down the liquid.
A vibrating sound came from the pocket of her hoodie. She quickly set the glass on the table and pulled out her cell phone. Her entire body relaxed when she read the message.
“He’s fine. He’s with a friend.” She breathed easier, the tension in her face disappearing. His entire body softened, as well.
But he jumped in his seat when a moment later she let out a frustrated curse at the phone in her hand. “I can’t do this anymore.” Then she started laughing. Which swiftly turned to something else, more choked and sad. When she looked up, tears trickled down both her cheeks.
“He’s been doing well here at the restaurant, V,” Finn said. “Don’t give up on him yet.”
She picked up the bottle and poured herself another shot of whiskey. Without hesitation, she drank it and wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her hoodie.
She stood up and began pacing again. “The other day he did the dishes at home.”
Finn laughed. “At least I’m teaching him something. Give it another few weeks and he’ll be cooking for you.”
She turned and glared. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
She moved around the lounge. She was bundled up in a white hoodie and pink track pants that hugged tight across her bottom. The street lights shone through the front window of the restaurant and in the dim light, she looked like an angel. His angel.
An angel ready and willing to do anything he asked.
Why had be never thought to pull her into this kind of game years ago? It was a safe and secure way to indulge his kinky side. And hers, too. All this time they’d been perfect for each other. Who knew?
Come to think of it, he had another fantasy. To feel the rush of having sex up against that front window. The rush that came with the possibility of being seen.
When he broke away from his arousing thoughts, she was watching him, a sexy smile curving at the side of her lip. “What are you thinking about over there?”
He leaned back in the booth and observed her perfect form. “I’m thinking about how much I’d like to fuck you up against the window. And about how inappropriate that would be right now.”
Her jaw dropped. “But—” She turned to the window then back at him, her lip quivering. She had been through a lot this evening. Worry. Fear. Doubt. Insecurity. The remnants of all of those things still shadowed her beautiful face. But there was no mistaking the desire darkening her eyes at the mere mention of sex. With him.
“Why inappropriate? I would like that very much.” They were silent for a long moment, neither of them making a move. Not until he bolted out of the booth, grabbed her, and locked his lips against hers. The kiss was hard and rough, and he felt it all the way down to his toes.
Their hands roamed over each other’s bodies. Christ, she was luscious in all the right places.
