Meggy snorted. “Cara O’Shea, world famous artist? Make-a-guy’s-tongue-drag-on-the-ground body?” She rapped out. “Suck it up, Cara. Besides, I was here last night, and he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. I’d say he’s in as much trouble as you are when it comes to the L word.”

  Heat climbed up Cara’s chest and to her cheeks. “Lust starts with an L.”

  Meggy cooed silkily. “And isn’t it a fabulous thing?”

  She couldn’t help but laugh as she returned Meggy’s grin. It was too late to do anything about her emotions now. Last night she jumped in with both feet, and the landing was so thrilling she knew she’d repeat the leap if given the chance. She made her bed, literally, she’d just have to lie in it and take whatever came next.

  Come to think of it, considering the pleasures she experienced in that bed, she couldn’t wait to discover what came next. She barely suppressed a shiver.

  “So.” Meggy leaned her hips against the counter, a sly smile curving her lips. “Did you take any pictures?”

  Meggy ducked when Cara swung out an arm to smack her upside her head. Laughing, she took a glass from the cabinet, and poured some juice.

  “What are you two doing here so early, anyway? Besides trying to catch Finn in his birthday suit.”

  Shan grinned at Meggy. “I spoke to Mrs. Hawkins yesterday. She’s ready to sell us The Palmer House.”

  Cara turned from popping several pieces of bread into the toaster. “And?”

  “We’re in, if you’re in.” Shan’s expression turned stubborn as she held Cara’s gaze. “A three-way partnership.”

  Cara pointed at the toaster. “You both know I’m about to burn my breakfast, right?”

  Meggy snickered. “Oh, you aren’t allowed in the kitchen, unless it’s to wash dishes.” She grinned at Cara’s smirk. “The kitchen is my domain, and Shan’s, when she has the time. She’ll be handling the personnel and dining room, as well as the business side of things. All you have to do is write that big fat check we talked about.”

  The toast popped up, browned perfectly. Cara grinned at the excellent omen. “I guess I’ll get my checkbook.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Work would be impossible once all the construction began in earnest, so Cara locked herself away with her brushes, giving free reign to the conflicting emotions her father’s revelations produced. Three days later, she had four canvases crated to ship to Evan, including the one of her father.

  Unforeseen Consequences she titled it.

  When she spoke with Evan this morning, she told him about the meeting with her father, filling him in on what she learned about Tom’s history with Hannah. His voice heavy with concern, Evan asked if she was okay, if she needed him to come to Palmerton and take her out for a night on the town. She declined, insisting she was fine. He hadn’t sounded convinced.

  She expected to hear from him again once he received the shipment and he studied the canvases she just signed over to the courier. Evan was much too perceptive of her emotions, especially when he viewed her work. His ability to read a canvas was a little spooky, but that was what made him so good at what he did, and she’d learned to live with it.

  Though she had shared some of the darkest secrets of her life with Evan over the years, including the debacle of graduation night, she didn’t tell him about her night with Finn. Her feelings for Michael Finnegan were too private to share with a man with whom she’d once been intimate, even if she did consider Evan among her closest friends.

  Guilt made her stomach muscles clench. She loved Evan, but he wasn’t Finn, so her love for Evan had never progressed beyond that of a friend. And yet, when she needed someone to hold her the night of her first successful show, to help her celebrate her life’s dream come true, she had slipped into Evan’s arms, finding joy and comfort there.

  If she were honest, she could even admit she might have been comfortable sharing a life with him. Their relationship just hadn’t worked out that way, thankfully. But if he had pushed to continue their romantic connection, would she have settled for his easy companionship, knowing Finn would never be hers?

  Daddy had met and married Ma when he thought a life with Hannah was lost to him. Had Cara acted similarly with Evan? She honestly didn’t know, but the similarities in their situations made her feel like a hypocrite.

  She pushed aside the uncomfortable insight and grabbed her keys. She was due to pick up Shan’s boys at noon, for an afternoon outing.

  Jake was beside himself with excitement to be traveling in her new Jeep. With the confidence of a new millennium ten year-old, he programmed and explained the workings of the Bluetooth technology, built into the vehicle, to his technology challenged aunt. By the time they arrived at Cookson Park, he had her cell phone programmed to work with the radio, and God knew what else. She would have to take him for a few more rides before she understood how to use the darn thing.

  She cast a solemn glance at the park bench where she met her father a few days earlier, forcing the mood off with a shake when Brian pleaded with her to play Frisbee.

  “Okay, punks.” She held up the Frisbee. “See if you can catch one.”

  She let the disk fly, and yelped when it sailed straight up, instead of to where the boys were waiting a dozen yards away. She scrambled out of the way when it came hurtling back to earth, just in time to avoid being conked on the head.

  “Okay, punk.” Jake leaned over at the waist, laughing. “See if you can throw one.”

  “Smart ass,” she grumbled beneath her breath while scooping up the toy. She let out a squeak when a voice spoke very close to her ear.

  “Nice language around children, O’Shea.”

  She spun around and instantly went weak in the knees. Geez. How pitiful for a grown woman to go all giddy at the sight of a man. She gobbled Finn up with her eyes, twisting her lips in a cocky grin, and standing still before him, when what she actually wanted to do was shriek, and jump into his arms.

  “Stalking again, Finnegan?”

  “I’m getting pretty good at it.” He wiggled his brows.

  She laughed. “You’re an idiot.”

  He grinned and pulled her into his arms for a smacking kiss. “You look delicious, O’Shea.”

  Thrilled at both his kiss and his words, her heart fluttered at the possibility he suffered the same giddy excitement at seeing her. She relished the moment, absorbing the pleasure of being in his arms, then flustered, she pushed free.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Hey, Finn.” Jake jogged up to them before Finn could respond.

  “Hey, Jake. Brian.”

  “Why were you kissing Aunt Cara?” Brian came to a stop beside her. He huddled close and stared up at Finn.

  Cara wrapped an arm around his thin shoulders, and swung her laughing gaze to meet Finn’s.

  Finn winked at her before leaning down to prop his hands on his knees. Down on Brian’s level, he whispered conspiratorially, “She’s awful pretty. I couldn’t resist. A man should always try to do the things he likes, don’t you think?”

  Brian considered that for a moment. “Like playing Frisbee?”

  “Like playing Frisbee.” Finn straightened, grinning. “Maybe I can help teach your aunt how to throw, so she doesn’t give herself a concussion.”

  Cara shot him a smirk, and he chuckled.

  “What’s a concussion?”

  “It’s a broken head.” Jake rolled his eyes at his younger brother. “Remember when Davie Jensen crashed his bike into the back of the ice cream truck? He got a concussion.”

  “Ohhh yeah.” Brian drew out the words. He aimed a gap-toothed grin at Finn. “Aunt Cara sucks at throwing the Frisbee. It almost landed on her head.”

  “Brian!” Cara choked on a horrified laugh.

  Finn hooted.

  “What?” Brian blinked up at her.

  “Don’t let your mother hear you using that word. She’ll never let you out the door with me again.”

  “What word?”

  Finn snickered, and she jammed him in the ribs with her elbow. He laughed all the harder. She gave up, ruffling Brian’s hair. “Never mind, dude.”

  Jake snatched the Frisbee from her hand, and he and Brian ran off to a safe distance. Jake let the disk fly. Finn caught it clean and sent it back again with a flick of the wrist.

  “Show off,” she grumbled.

  “Hey, I’m a natural athlete.”

  “Yeah, I heard that somewhere.”

  He turned to grin at her after tossing the disk to Brian. “Do you want me to teach you how to throw?”

  “No thanks.” She held out her hand to study her fingers. “I might break a nail.”

  He chuckled, turning to resume the game. Cara meandered over to sit on a bench in the shade.

  She recalled asking Finn the other day if there was anything he couldn’t do. Watching him with Shan’s boys, she began to believe there wasn’t. Why the hell hadn’t some smart woman snatched him up? Andrea the Addlepated was a moron.

  Finn joined Cara on the bench several minutes later.

  “How did the commercial go?”

  “It went.” He sat back. “I applied their deodorant so many times I’ll never have to worry about sweating again. I think my armpits are permanently shellacked.” She snorted a laugh, and he chuckled, shrugging. “Hey, it’s a living.” With his arm behind her, along the top of the bench, he played with a curl from her ponytail. “How’s the staircase look?”

  “Oh, Finn, it’s gorgeous. I was so excited when they delivered it this morning. I can’t wait until it’s all done.”

  “I’ll have a crew there at seven in the morning. You’ll need to pack a bag for a couple of nights, unless you want to climb a ladder to get in and out of your place. It’ll take us at least a day to pull the existing stairwell out, and another to install the spiral. The place will be a mess.

  “Oh.” She frowned. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  His wiggled his dark eyebrows suggestively. “When I gave you that tour, did I mention there are sixteen rooms in my house? And did you notice the master bedroom has a king-sized bed?”

  She grinned, even as her heart skipped a beat. “Are you inviting me to a sleepover, Finn?”

  He twirled a curl around his finger, and his eyes gleamed with lechery.

  “Oh, we’ll sleep, eventually.”

  Her body heated, simmering at his words, and the heat in his eyes singed her. Jake called out to them, breaking the connection. Her nephew executed a spinning move that sent the disk flying toward his brother. She resisted the urge to fan herself.

  When she glanced at Finn again, the lechery was gone from his eyes, replaced with an odd intensity she couldn’t name. He spoke in a low rumble. “I like the idea of you in my bed, of you in my home.”

  His words should have thrilled her, and would have if not for the slight frown sliding over his brow as though he hadn’t meant to say the words, and wasn’t pleased he had.

  A chill raced down her spine when he dropped the curl he’d been toying with, and pushed a restless hand through his hair. The withdrawal was subtle, but she sensed it, and didn’t quite know what to make of it.

  She glanced across the park at the boys. “Maybe a sleepover isn’t such a good idea.”

  Finn stared at her, but she didn’t turn to meet his gaze. Damn him. He’d been the one to suggest she pack a bag and come to his home, not her. He’d been the one to call a damn blitz, hounding her until he had her naked and writhing beneath him. She never made a single demand of him, and she’d be dammed if she would take the blame for some imagined slight his football rattled brain had suddenly conjured.

  “Why isn’t it a good idea? Your place will be a mess and you’ve got to stay somewhere.” Despite his reasonable tone, the wary frown still hovered on his brow when she turned to him.

  “Why don’t we just forget it? You don’t really want me in your home, and I’ve got several options that will work out fine.”

  His frown deepened. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t want you in my home.”

  She met his gaze calmly. “The frown on your face when you said it says differently. Or are you going to try and tell me you didn’t regret making the offer, the moment it came out of your mouth?”

  His brows snapped together in offense. He obviously didn’t like having the truth pointed out to him. Too bad. She didn’t have any experience playing games, while his entire life had been one long, continuous competition. She didn’t understand the rules of this particular brand of entertainment and was too intelligent to attempt on-the-job-training while squaring off with a champion.

  After a long moment, the frown smoothed out and he sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. It’s not what you think. I was thinking of something else and it’s my problem, not yours.” He cupped her chin and lowered his mouth to drop a gentle kiss on her lips. “No pressure, Cara. It’s an open invitation.” He checked his watch and stood. “I’m meeting Ryan for a late round of golf and dinner. I need to run.”

  He turned on his heel.

  “Finn.” He stopped and glanced over his shoulder. “Finn, I don’t...” She held out her hand in supplication, not knowing what to say.

  “Like I said, Cara, no pressure. It’s just something I’d like.” He winked as he walked backwards away from her. “A man should always try to do the things he likes.” He spun about, calling a goodbye to the boys, and left the park.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “He what?” Meggy dropped her sandwich onto her plate.

  Cara glanced around the busy Bluebell Diner and kept her voice low. “He asked me to stay with him for a few days while the studio is ripped apart. I think.”

  “You think? Either he did or he didn’t.”

  “I told you. He made the offer, but I think he regretted it immediately. When I called him on it, he said it wasn’t what I thought, that he’d been thinking of something else.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I wouldn’t be asking you if I knew.” She stabbed a French fry with her fork. “God, men are so confusing.”

  “Well, what did you say?”

  “Are you kidding me? I didn’t know what to say, so I just sat there like an idiot and said nothing.”

  “Well, then. What did he say?”

  “He said no pressure. It was just something he’d like.”

  “Holy crap, Cara. Fabulous Finn the Fine asked you to move in with him.”

  “No, he didn’t. Not like move in, move in. The invitation is just for a few days, until the stairs are done.”

  “Cara, he’s been back in town for four years, and he’s watched like a hawk. He doesn’t bring any of his women to town, and he’s never had a woman in that house. It’s off limits to his bimbos. When he’s seen with a woman, it’s always at his place in Boston. The fact that he asked you to stay with him has to mean something.”

  Cara snorted. “He’s a guy. We’re currently having sex. It’s a simple matter of convenience.”

  Meggy chewed a bite of her sandwich, and then shook her head. “He’s had sex with a lot of women, but never invited any of them into his home. He has his penthouse lair for that.”

  Cara set down her fork, her appetite waning. “You’re not helping.”

  “I’m trying to. Someone has to read between the lines in Finn’s play book. You’re too set on considering yourself the flavor of the week to do it.”

  “I had it right all those years. The smartest thing to do is steer clear of guys. They’re impossible to understand and they know it. They mess with us on purpose to confuse us.”

  Meggy laughed. “Oh please. The only reason you steered clear of men all those years is because none of them were the oh-so-yummy Finn the Fine.”

  “I didn’t steer clear of all men. Just most of them.”

  “The hunky art dealer doesn’t count. You never even went back for seconds.” She laughed at Cara’s scowl. “So, what are you going to do?”

  Cara picked up her sandwich. “I plan to stay with you tomorrow night.”

  “Geez, Cara. What am I going to do with you?” Meggy sighed heavily. “Finn the Fine, hunk extraordinaire, invites you to come and play in his playground, even if it’s just for a day or two, and you want to sit around watching reruns on the cooking channel with me? Have I taught you nothing?”

  Cara smirked, then sighed and shrugged. “I think it would just complicate things.”

  “And that’s a bad thing, because?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “You’re in love with the man, Cara. Playing house for a few days may not be such a bad idea. It might give him some ideas of his own. Like the fact that he likes having you around.”

  She cocked her head. “For a pain in the butt, you occasionally make a good point.”

  Meggy smiled, but her attention was focused on the front of the diner. Cara spun around in the booth and stiffened. Hannah Dunn’s unhappy gaze met hers from the to-go counter.

  Cara wrapped her restless fingers around her water glass as her father’s wife shot a nervous glance at the woman three booths away. Cheryl Potter sat with her husband Rick, not bothering to hide her interest in the tableau Cara and Hannah being in the same place presented.

  Cara’s stomach muscles clenched with nerves as Hannah left the counter. She passed by Cheryl, coming to a stop beside the booth where Cara and Meggy sat.

  “Hello, ladies.”

  “Hannah,” Cara murmured.

  “Hello, Hannah.” Meggy’s smile was sharp as she too noticed Cheryl straining her neck in an effort to overhear their conversation. “How have you been?”

  Hannah’s smile was grateful. “I’ve been well, thanks.” She looked at Cara. “I hear your studio is coming along.”

  Cara flicked a glance in Cheryl’s direction. The older woman quickly dropped her gaze. “Yes, it is. It’s still a mess, with the renovation work that’s being done, but it’ll be beautiful.”

  Hannah nodded stiffly and smiled at Meggy. “How are things going with you, Meggy?”

 

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