Finn Rhodes Forever: A Spicy Small Town Second Chance Romance (The Queen’s Cove Series Book 4)
Finn Rhodes Forever: Chapter 22

A FEW DAYS after Finn organized that horrifying banner in the sky, we set out to search for the flower again. Our search area was further into the mountains now that we had covered so much ground together, and we had agreed on a multi-day trip while Finn had time off from the fire hall.

After dinner, we sat against a log from a fallen tree, watching the fire we had built in a small campsite. In my head, I replayed moments from the day, working in silence with Finn a hundred feet away, listening to the birds chirping in the forest while the sun shone down on us. Hauling my heavy pack had made my legs and back burn with fatigue, but after a day in the forest, calm satisfaction eased through me.

Finn stood and took my empty bowl from dinner. A little smile quirked on his mouth. “I brought you a little treat.”

“You did?”

“Mhm.” He reached into his pack and pulled out a bag of Cheezies. My face lit up and he laughed.

He tossed it to me and I caught the bag and tore it open. “You’re a god.”

His eyes flashed with heat. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

Warmth tugged between my legs and my brain stumbled. My mind flashed with images of Finn and me on grad night, him on top of me, being careful not to hurt me. Eyes clouded with lust.

That night had been the first time for both of us. We had no clue what we were doing, although I suspected Finn had bugged his brothers for some pointers because some of the stuff he did… a virgin shouldn’t know how to use his tongue like that.

I shivered.

Finn’s eyes crinkled. “You okay, there?”

“Um. Yep.” I stood. “I brought you something, too.”

His grin hitched, surprised. “You did?”

I smiled and nodded. “Be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“To the creek,” I called over my shoulder. Five minutes later, I returned with two cans and set them down between us.

Finn’s face burst into a big grin. “You brought beer.”

I couldn’t help the smile creeping up on my mouth. A warm, pleased flush moved through my chest. “Yep.”

He picked one up. “And it’s cold.”

“I put it in the creek while we ate dinner.”

He tilted his head, staring at me with an expression of pure affection. My mouth twitched and I struggled to meet his eye.

A tiny dose of panic hit my bloodstream. I wasn’t supposed to be bringing him cold drinks and making him smile. I was supposed to be repulsing him.

“Come here.” He set the beer down and held his arms out.

I stiffened. “Huh?”

“I want to give you a hug.”

“Why?” I took a step back.

Softness and amusement melted in his eyes and he flashed that wicked grin again. “Because I like you, Liv, and I want to say thank you for bringing me a cold beer. It’s just what I wanted right now. And that’s what couples do. They hug,” he said in a condescending, teasing tone that made me want to roll my eyes and laugh. His gaze sharpened. “Among other things.”

My heart hammered at his words and I blinked.

“I’m coming in,” he said quietly as he stepped forward and slowly wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. “That’s it. You’re doing great.”

I snorted. “Shut up.” God, he was warm.

He squeezed me tighter. “You’re supposed to put your arms around me, too.”

“Do you find yourself funny?” His chest felt nice, broad and firm, and I had the urge to rest my head against him.

“I can show you if you need help.”

I rolled my eyes at him but my lips pulled into a grin as I wrapped my arms around his lower back.

“There we go,” he murmured, dipping his head down so his mouth hovered inches from my ear.

I dragged in a breath, inhaling his scent. His deodorant, his body wash, and then something uniquely Finn. Probably sweat. His scent made a muscle pull low in my stomach. His hands smoothed across my back in calming strokes and I let myself lean into him. A low hum escaped him as he exhaled, and he brought his lips to my temple.

“Thank you for bringing me beer, Liv,” he murmured against my skin, and my eyes closed.

“Mhm.” I didn’t trust myself to say anything more. I might accidentally moan.

He inhaled once more, his chest expanding against mine, and I didn’t even care that my boobs pressed into him. He was warm and comfy and I didn’t want to let go, but I unhooked my arms and stepped back.

He smiled down at me with hooded eyes. “That was nice.”

I shrugged. “Yep.” Coward.

“Say it.”

My gaze snapped up and I saw the dare in his eyes. “What?” My eyebrow shot up.

“Say it. Say that you enjoyed hugging me. I know you did.”

I stared at him and he stared back in challenge. “Fine.” I lifted my shoulder, so casual. “You give good hugs.”

His mouth curled up. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.”

He laughed and shook his head before he sat down and opened his beer. He took a long pull before his head fell back. “Jesus Christ, that is so good.”

I smiled. “It’s shitty beer.”

“I don’t care. It’s cold and I’m a happy guy sitting here with my girl in the forest.” Finn’s gaze slid to mine, smug and knowing. Challenging me.

Something sparked in my chest at his words. The last time he called me that, when I fell asleep in the car after the diner, I’d blurted out I’m not your girl by mistake. This time, I knew enough to hold my tongue. We were supposed to be together, after all.

I’d never admit it, but I liked the way the words sounded.

We sat there in content silence, drinking our beers and listening to the noises in the forest and from the fire, watching as it burned down to the ashes.

“I’m going to wash off in the creek before bed,” he said as the sun began to set. A question quirked on his face, playful and coy. “You want to join?”

My eyes rolled but I grinned at him. “You’d love that.”

“I sure would.” His eyes flashed again. “Be right back. Don’t talk to bears.”

I laughed. Whenever Finn and I would go exploring as kids, our parents would say don’t talk to strangers! As we got older and spent more time traipsing around the forest, we’d respond, there’s nothing but bears out there, so Elizabeth started saying, okay, don’t talk to bears! and we’d laugh.

When Finn returned, I was staring into the fire. I’d added a small log to get it burning again as the sun set, but my mind was lost in thought, reliving those days where we used to play together. He stepped closer to the fire and my gaze swung up to him—

Shirtless. Ink spanning his skin, shifting over the ridges, valleys, and hard lines of his muscles. Abs. Pecs. Chest hair smattered across his sternum, tricking down his stomach into his waistband.

It was the first time I’d seen him shirtless in over a decade. His tattoos were on full display, and my eyes searched, memorizing every detail. The birds flew up and around his muscular arm, all the way to the shoulder. I’d seen the moon and stars on the other arm before, but now I could see the stars creeping up across his shoulder and sternum, blending into the sky above the forest spanning his collarbone. I’d seen the tops of the trees poking out of his shirts, but now I could see the lake beneath them. I caught a peek of the mountain range over his ribcage and was struck with the familiarity. That was the mountain range around Queen’s Cove. The area over his heart was blank.

This wasn’t the skinny teenager I’d fumbled around with in the dark. Finn was a man now. He had put on more muscle, collected a torso full of tattoos, and I could imagine the brush of his chest hair against my skin.

While I window-shopped his body, Finn watched me with a cocky, heated smile, like he was enjoying it. A rush of lust hit me between my legs, swirling heat and pressure, and I shuddered, clenching. I couldn’t tear my gaze off him. He smirked before pulling a shirt over his head. His biceps and triceps danced as his arms moved.

“You have a lot of tattoos,” I said uselessly.

As he took a seat beside me, he smirked like he had a secret. “A few.”

My gaze skimmed down his left arm, covered in a half-sleeve of the solar system. I reached out and my finger brushed the edge of a moon, barely bigger than my fingernail. While I traced the constellation of stars, he studied my face. Goosebumps rose up on his arm and I pulled my hand away, face flushing at the intimacy.

“How many birds are on your arm?”

“Twelve. I get one on our birthday every year,” he said quietly, and my pulse tripped.

My gaze shot to his, searching for insincerity or humor or something that would take away from the heaviness of this information.

If Finn turned out to be a romantic, I swear to god, I couldn’t handle it.

He held my eyes, steady and certain. I was supposed to be avoiding situations like this, but all I could think about were excuses to get his shirt off again.

Did it mean anything? Would he get another bird tattoo this year?

A sensation loomed in my chest, too big and intense to even think about.

“Do you have any?” His voice was low.

“A couple trees on my side,” I answered as I gazed into the crackling fire.

He dragged a breath in, like he was trying to calm himself. “I can’t wait to see them,” he whispered, eyes darkening, and I shuddered.

Finn and I sat there for a long time, watching the fire and listening to the sounds of the forest as the sun sank lower and the sky turned dark.

A canopy of twinkling lights stretched overhead and I sighed. Somewhere in the trees, an owl hooted.

I hugged my knees, feeling funny. How many times had Finn and I sat on his roof, staring up at the sky? We’d climb out his window, usually when his parents were asleep. Their bedroom was on the other side of the house so they wouldn’t hear us if we were quiet. We’d lie on the roof, stare at the sky, and point out shooting stars, whispering back and forth. Sometimes our hands or arms would brush. Once, Finn reached his foot out and rested it against mine, and we stayed like that for an hour, neither of us moving, connected by that square inch. The side of his socked foot against mine. His socks had Bigfoot on them. I had thought about that for days after.

For every star in the sky, I had a memory with Finn. My head was full of them, and the more time we spent together, the more resurfaced. It was like I was waking up, I realized, and shaking the last twelve years off.

I glanced at his mouth, the perfect line turned up at the corners in a cruel, smug smirk. Vulnerability wavered in his expression though, and my heart tugged. God, I hated that mouth, and yet I wanted to kiss him again so fucking badly. In my head, I replayed the kiss at the movie in the park, the moments before I nipped him.

It was good. It was the kind of kiss I’d wanted without realizing it—deep and consuming and desperate. That kiss was like one bite of the best chocolate cake, and it wasn’t enough. I wanted the whole slice. I wanted more.

It would be so fucking good. I didn’t even care that Finn had hurt me, that he left and he’d leave again because guys like him didn’t stick around even if he truly believed he would. I didn’t care.

He got those tattoos for me. I knew he did. Why was that so hot? Why did Finn have to get so much hotter over the years?

It wasn’t fair.

What if I gave in?

He’d stick it out in town for the summer, at least. I could admit that I’d never been attracted to someone the way I was to Finn, not when we were teenagers and definitely not now, as adults.

Grown up, Finn was impossible to resist.

What if I enjoyed him while he was here? I could keep my heart out of it. It would just be sex. Messing around. Nothing serious.

“We should make out,” I said, staring at his mouth.

The fire reflected in his dark gaze, eyes hooded and full of heat. His smirk turned up even more. “Yeah?”

I nodded, meeting his eyes. Confidence, Olivia. He couldn’t see how fast my heart was beating.

“That’s what couples do, isn’t it?” My tone was light, cocky, and playful, like I’d taken notes from him. I mentally high-fived myself. “Among other things.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed and his mouth curled into a wicked grin. “Come here, then.”

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