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Sure this was a mistake? Yeah, but he wouldn’t take back the invite if he could, and severing his own finger would’ve been easier than rescinding the offer. Kieran really enjoyed having Finley in his space, even if it would be cramped on the couch. Or maybe especially because it would be a tight fit. He’d be in big trouble if he let his dirty mind pick up that thread and run with it. “I’m sure. I’ll make the popcorn while you set up the DVD player.”
“Deal.”
Kieran headed toward the kitchenette. He removed the wrapper, popped the package into the microwave, and pressed the popcorn button. “I don’t have anything to drink. Is tap water okay?”
“Sure.”
Kieran filled two glasses and poured the buttery kernels into cereal bowls until they nearly overflowed. Sharing the bag wouldn’t be a good idea. If Finley’s hand grazed against his, there’d be no telling how his body would react. The sexy blond had already made himself comfortable on the love seat with the remote on his lap. He reached up and accepted the bowl and glass Kieran extended to him. Luckily, their fingers didn’t touch and put his willpower to the test right out of the gate. He returned to the kitchen to get his own snack and drink. Finley had toed out of his shoes and covered himself with one of the spare blankets from the trunk. He would’ve teased his guest about making himself right at home but knew Finley would issue a string of apologies, and Kieran would feel obligated to cut them off with a kiss.
Kieran set his popcorn and water on the closed coffee table and settled onto the cushion beside Finley’s. He covered his lower body, which would help disguise his reaction to any wayward thoughts, but it turned out the precaution wasn’t necessary. The movie sucked Kieran in from the very start, and he was barely aware of Finley’s presence—a miracle in itself—or the passing time. All the emotions he’d felt while reading the book the first time resurfaced, taking him on a roller coaster ride that left him feeling motivated when the credits rolled at the end. The story was powerful and stirring on paper but even more spellbinding on the screen, and it put things in perspective for him. Kieran was stunned to discover he hadn’t taken a single bite of popcorn or one sip from his water glass. He’d sat there completely mesmerized.
The rest of the room came into focus, namely the beautiful blond watching him with a tender expression. Finley blinked, and a single tear slipped down his cheek. He turned his head and brushed it away, but the damage was done. For the first time in nearly two years, Kieran wanted there to be room for something more in his heart than loathing and vengeance. It turned out his soul was more resilient than he realized. A voice in his head reminded Kieran that he wasn’t staying, but this time a softer voice reasoned, “But you could. Just give up on your vendetta.” Another first that left him reeling and frozen in place until Finley threw back his blanket and reached for his shoes.
Something had shifted inside Kieran at the diner. He hadn’t said a lot, but when he did, an invisible weight lifted off him, making it easier to breathe. What would happen if he opened up to Finley more? Would the thorny vines of bitterness surrounding his heart unravel? Did he even want them to? By the time he’d decided, Finley had both shoes on and was rising.
“Ritchie asked me to drive a client’s Jaguar to the warehouse for safekeeping until they returned from a trip.” His voice sounded as strangled as his heart at first but gained strength as he spoke. Finley didn’t say anything; he simply sat back down and gave Kieran his full attention. Those shimmering eyes encouraged and soothed him at the same time. “It wasn’t an odd request or scenario. Ritchie’s clients were super wealthy and would drop off their vehicles for detailing or service on their way out of town. He always had limited space at the shop, so he rented a warehouse when his business grew to help with his overflow problem.”
“What a convenient place to hide stolen cars,” Finley said.
“Yeah, but I was too dumb to realize it.” Kieran blew out a breath. “Instead of driving straight to the warehouse, I took a brief detour because I’d never driven a car as smooth and fast as the Jag. I truly understood what luxury and performance meant. According to the cop who pulled me over, I didn’t signal when making a turn. He ran the plates, and the vehicle came back stolen. Next thing I knew, multiple officers with drawn weapons had surrounded me and were screaming at me to get out of the car with my hands up. I complied right away, and two of them rushed forward and knocked me to the ground, bloodying my lip and scraping my face on the asphalt. I was scared out of my freaking mind, but finally found the presence of mind to ask why they were arresting me.” Kieran closed his eyes and focused on regulating his breathing as memories of that night replayed in his head.
“Hey,” Finley said, reaching over and covering Kieran’s hand with his own. Kieran opened his eyes, and they locked gazes. “You don’t have to say anything else if you’re not ready.”
Kieran appreciated Finley’s consideration, but he wanted to give him this much at least. “I convinced myself the incident was all a big misunderstanding, even when they cuffed me and hauled me into the back of a cop car. I knew they’d let me go once they talked to Ritchie. He’d have paperwork on the client who’d brought in the vehicle, and the cops would shift their attention to them. I continued to hold on to that hope, even after I told my story no less than a dozen times during the thirteen hours the officers and detectives interrogated me.” Kieran’s stomach pitched a little, but he swallowed and continued the story. “I demanded to know why they kept asking the same questions on an endless loop when they got the same answers each time. That’s when they told me they’d called the body shop, and Ritchie had told the cops he didn’t know anyone with my name.” Kieran’s breathing turned shaky, and he rotated his hand to link his fingers with Finley’s. Green eyes widened ever so slightly, but Finley didn’t look away from his face. “I didn’t believe the detectives. Ritchie had kissed me and said he loved me when he’d handed me the keys to the Jag. It had to be a nightmare. That was the only explanation. I kept telling myself that I’d wake up in our bed any minute, roll over, and cuddle up against him.”
Finley’s fingers tightened on his, and Kieran wasn’t sure what part had gotten a reaction out of him. “But you never woke up.”
“Nope.”
“Things just got more surreal. I found out that there’d been a similar theft spree on luxury vehicles the year before. They were stolen from garages and driveways with the keys still in them. Of course, the officers thought I was involved, and I didn’t blame them at first. I just stuck with my story about moving the Jag for my boyfriend. It occurred to me that they’d lied about Ritchie to get a confession, so I confronted them.” Kieran’s breath froze just as he had on the sidewalk when seeing Ritchie again. Finley squeezed his hand, and he expelled the trapped air from his lungs. “The detective played the call he’d recorded with Ritchie. I heard my boyfriend’s voice as he denied knowing me.”
“I’m so sorry,” Finley said. Unshed tears pooled in his eyes, making his irises look like polished jade.
“They tried to break me down, and that’s when I realized I wasn’t dreaming and asked for a lawyer. They didn’t have any evidence tying me to the other cars. My public defender was an excellent lawyer, but the jury still found me guilty. I was inconsolable for quite some time. My cell mate got tired of my brooding and handed me the jail library’s copy ofThe Count of Monte Cristo. That’s when I turned my fury into fuel.”
Finley leaned closer. “How are we going to take Ritchie down?”
“We? I can’t involve you.”
“Too late,” Finley replied. “I’m invested now.” He narrowed his eyes when Kieran opened his mouth to protest. “What’s the plan?”
Kieran debated for a second before relenting. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to get an objective opinion. His voice of reason cautioned that Finley wasn’t impartial. Their fingers were still entwined after all. Kieran eased his hand free and rested it on his lap. He missed Finley’s warmth immediately, but there was no future for them. “I need to get my hands on surveillance equipment. I want to get eyes on the warehouse to record and document the movement of cars and people in and out of there.”
Finley leaned back against the sofa cushion, crossed his arms over his chest, and gave Kieran a smile that only promised trouble. “I can help. My grandfather was an amateur photographer, and his favorite subject was nocturnal wildlife.”
“Did he take the images hanging in your office?”
“He did,” Finley replied. “Pops left his photograph collection and his equipment to me when he passed. The cameras and recording devices have night-vision capabilities.” His smile morphed from Cheshire cat to the Grinch. “And they can capture images from a long distance.” Finley held up a hand to thwart any protest. “I’m aware this could get dicey and dangerous, but I’m stronger than I seem. I promise.” Finley held his gaze and added, “I won’t let you down.”
Kieran knew he should refuse Finley’s help, but Edmond didn’t go it alone. It might’ve been a mistake, but he said, “When do we start, Jacopo?”
Finley rubbed his hands together gleefully. “I’m ready whenever you are,” he said. “I just need to retrieve the equipment from my mom’s garage and test it out to make sure I remember how to use it.”
Kieran narrowed his eyes. “I want to keep this between us.”
“Naturally.” Finley added a nod for emphasis. He loved being the only other person to know Kieran’s plan.
“That means not drawing any unwanted attention. If you and I just hightailed it off to Colorado Springs…”
