Chapter Fifteen

Eden: Hey, thanks for today. For my scooter and everything.

Finn: You’re welcome. I’m dreaming of churros…

Movie night with Faith was usually the highlight of her week, sad as that sounded, and Eden had been looking forward to chilling out with her sister, eating some popcorn, and drinking frozen margaritas. Maybe she’d chat with Faith about what was going on with Finn.

But things weren’t going quite to plan. One of her favorite DVDs was jumping and skipping all over the place. Looked like it might finally be time to sign up for a movie streaming service. She’d resisted so far, as she’d built up a rocking collection of vintage movies on DVD and didn’t want to waste money on entertainment. Eden jabbed at the remote, trying to get the film to play.

A resounding thwack from the other room had her sitting bolt upright and staring, looking around for the source of the noise.

Faith hollered like a woman on fire, which, potentially, she was. Yikes! Smoke billowed from the open-plan kitchen, the rank stench clogging her nasal passages. She’d thought an earlier waft of smoke was a neighbor was barbequing outside.

“EEEEE-DEN!”

She jumped to her feet. And fell to the floor. Leaped up again. Her ankle throbbed, but she hobbled toward the scene of the catastrophe, trying to take it slow. Her sprain wasn’t fully healed, and she didn’t want to injure it again.

Shrieks bounced off the kitchen’s laminate surfaces. Eden’s heart skidded to a halt, along with her feet, and she snapped her mouth shut with a click of her teeth, because the shrieks were coming from her.

“What the heebie-jeebies happened here?”

While skirting around the body sprawled on the floor—a pint-sized person with blond hair, dressed in black, legs akimbo, and blood splashed across her face—Eden sucked in a breath of smoky air. The similarity to a TV crime show was all too real. She dropped to a crouch and touched a shaky hand to cold, clammy skin: a cheek, a forehead. Felicity appeared to be passed out on Eden’s kitchen floor for some reason.

Heart hammering like a police officer trying to bang down a door, she raised her head to find Faith. A shaky, ashen version of her sister stood in front of the oven, waving a fire extinguisher around. Acidic fumes pervaded the space, mixed with a vile, smoky residue.

“I-I don’t know what happened.” Faith shook her head. “She just ran in the back door and fell. Boom!”

Eden’s gaze returned to Felicity’s face. Why exactly was her research assistant here? Let alone passed out on her kitchen floor. Eden’s heart hammered in her chest. Something was very wrong, but she struggled to think clearly.

Finn’s phone buzzed from where it was strapped to his arm. He slowed his pace to a jog, the reflected sunset blinding him for a second as he glanced out over the water from the clifftop running track. He palmed his phone and smiled. His mother. He hadn’t heard from her in a while, as she’d been on a cruise. He stopped moving and took her call.

“Mum?” The gasping and sobbing on the other end of the phone set his heart racing, his mind jumping to conclusions at the speed of light. “Mum? What’s wrong?”

“Sorry, Finn. It’s just… you’re so far away.” She hesitated, her rough exhalation loud in his ear. “It’s your dad.”

Finn’s heart shuddered, then stopped dead for a second. He pounded himself on the chest and leaned over the railing, sucking in air. “What about Dad?” His voice sounded strained, scratchy, even to his own ears.

“He’s had a heart attack. He was out jogging. We’re still not sure of the prognosis, but the surgeon wants to do a triple bypass as soon as possible.”

A lead weight pressed down on Finn’s chest, making it difficult to breathe. “Oh no. Is Dad awake? Can I speak to him?”

“Not right now. He’s sleeping. But sweetheart… can you come home?”

The shakiness in his mum’s voice threw him. It must be bad. She was usually so pragmatic that nothing stressed her out. “Of course. Of course! I’ll get on the next flight I can find.”

“Thanks, Finn. Let me know when you’ll be home.”

He closed his eyes, willing himself across the ocean. “As soon as I know, I’ll send you the details.”

“I’d better get going. The surgeon’s coming back to speak to me.”

“Okay. I’ll get back to you soon. I love you, Mum.”

“Love you too.”

Finn stared at his phone, sitting like a bomb in the palm of his hand. If he had X-ray vision, it would have melted by now. He’d ended the call but seemed unable to move. Or think.

Minutes ago, he’d been happily texting Eden, flirting, if he was honest.

Now this.

He lifted his head and blinked a couple of times. The rising moon swayed unsteadily, like a mirage over the water. Finn leaned heavily on the wooden railing, high up on the clifftop above the beach. Sandy track beneath his running shoes, salty and a sharp ocean breeze in his lungs, cool against his skin. This had always been one of his favorite spots near Del Mar. He usually loved it there.

Now this.

Cooling now after running full-on for a couple of miles, his skin was icy where his damp tank top stuck to him, the breeze adding an extra chill factor.

He raked a hand through his hair while replaying the facts in his mind.

Dad was in the hospital. He’d had a heart attack. Mum was waiting in the hospital. Waiting for the surgeon to tell her the real deal. The prognosis.

Testing his breath, he shakily inhaled. Exhaled. Breathed.

His Dad wasn’t dead. Gordon Donohue was alive, would probably be fine.

Except, what if he wasn’t?

Here Finn was, Gordon’s only living son, on the other side of the world. A son who hadn’t seen his father for going on two years. Why? Because sometimes being home was too hard. He hadn’t always been the only son. He’d been the younger son once. Twelve years ago. Or was it thirteen?

How could he not remember when Matt died? He wasn’t great with dates, but it was important.

The wooden railing’s edges dug into his palms as he leaned over, pressing down. His legs felt weak, and it wasn’t only the lactic acid buildup in his quads. It was everything.

He’d put himself under a lot of pressure these past few years, trying to do a job he might not be capable of doing, at least not properly. Sometimes his typical M.O.—jump in headfirst, learn to swim later—wasn’t such a great strategy.

With only a short time left to develop his project proposal, the countdown was on to win the special funding, and if he failed, it wasn’t only the end of his job; it was the end of a dream.

Matt’s dream.

When his older brother died from heart failure at only twenty-four, Finn knew what he had to do. Continue the work Matt, a brilliant young scientist, had trained for—trying to find a cure for the people like him with ‘dodgy hearts.’ Congenital heart disease.

His brother had died of a dysfunctional heart, and almost broke the hearts of his family too.

Finn had worked hard, much harder than most people thought he could. The guy who was good at any sport you threw at him, from football to swimming to running. The guy who’d been a natural sports marketing consultant if only he could get his head around statistics and other mathematical concepts. He’d stepped up and taken on a double load at university, studying business and marketing. He’d done it too. When the reading and analysis got to be too much, the pure weight of information he had to absorb weighing him down, he’d found new ways to learn.

He’d graduated with distinction, giving the one-fingered salute to dyslexia and every teacher who’d ever told him he wasn’t smart enough. Matt was the only one who’d ever told Finn he could do whatever he set his mind to if he was willing to work for it.

But what now? What if Matt’s dream was finally over? Finn had given it his best shot, but he had no idea if his work would pay off. And, the scarier thought, what if he had no dream of his own?

Before calling his mum back, he needed a plan. He’d fly home to Australia. Maybe he’d stay this time. He could find another job back home before things hit the fan at Magna Smart, and settle down near his parents. He’d never bought a house in the US, never committed to living there permanently.

Finn lifted his head and stared up at the darkening sky.

There was someone he needed to talk to before he could decide what to do next. Someone who’d help him find his way. Finn started jogging again, finding his stride, heading in the only direction that made sense. Her direction.

“Dammit, Faith, tell me again. What happened?” Eden flicked her gaze up to search her sister’s face.

Faith remained silent, but her mouth hung open like the words were there; they’d just got lost on their way out. She stood, backed up against the oven, a heatproof mitt shaped like an alligator on one hand. A souvenir from a conference trip to Florida. Faith’s hand idly opened and closed, making the little green monster’s jaws snap, snap. Her sister’s pale face contrasted sharply against her black hair and midnight-blue silk shirt.

Eden was afraid to touch Felicity again in case she accidentally killed her. Or worse. Although, when you thought about it, what could be worse than being killed? Her hands shaking, she reached for Felicity’s pulse point on her neck.

She glanced around her white laminate kitchen, noting how the tiles sparkled under the downlights above the countertop. At least the floor’s clean. She stopped, frozen in place. Being a neat freak was one thing, but being pleased about her friend’s bloody body lying on her otherwise spotless floor was heading into seriously worrying territory.

“Faith.” Eden stood, then reached over and grabbed the alligator’s jaws. “Snap out of it. What happened?”

Faith shook her head, sending long strands of mirror-smooth hair flying every which way and back again. “She barged through your back door and said something about fish, then tripped and fell. She hit her head on the corner of the oven door. I was getting the muffins out. They’re burnt, sorry. I think I spilled oil on the baking tray.”

Eden shook her head. Fish? Okay. She’d get to the bottom of that later. Her biggest concern right now was Faith being charged with murder. Murder by muffin. This was not good. She was panicking, but couldn’t seem to calm herself.

Eden sat on the floor and returned her attention to Felicity. She remembered her basic fire warden training. First priority, check the injured person for a pulse. Done. There was a definite thudding going on. “I’ve got her pulse. Thank goodness.”

She brushed her hand across her friend’s forehead. Short strands of hair got in the way. Under them was an angry-looking cut, leaking droplets of crimson.

Eden scooted over to the low cabinets under the sink and grabbed a clean dishcloth. Next, she pulled herself up to wet it under the faucet and wash the blood from her hands.

Seated back at Felicity’s side, she pressed the cloth to the cut and cleaned it as best she could. It wasn’t too deep. Should she dress it with something? Disinfect it? Probably.

Then came the fire safety awareness. Fragments of things she’d learned dribbled back into her brain. Come on, Eden. She should recall this stuff instantly.

“Faith, turn off the oven at the power.”

Her sister rushed to the left and flipped the switch. Why couldn’t she think clearly? Oh. The noise. The smoke detector’s incessant beeping was mind-numbingly loud. How had she not registered it until now?

“Now the smoke detector, please.”

While Faith dragged a chair across the floor to reach the smoke detector, Eden gazed down at Felicity. She was breathing but not responding to her name.

Then a familiar sound cut through all the other noise. Her phone in the living room, scatting with Ella Fitzgerald’s voice: her ringtone. Who could be calling her?

A loud crash made her jump.

What the…?

The front door rattled on its hinges with the force of an enraged bull or something similar barging into it. Another almighty crash and the door struck the wall with a resounding thud. The bull charged down the hall and into the kitchen, only stopping when it fell on its ass. A mighty fine ass, she noticed as the man, not a bull, hauled himself upright.

Finn. In her kitchen.

Finn had knocked her door down. Because he worried she was in danger? Eden’s heart thudded wildly at the thought of him caring about her.

He stood there, panting like he’d run a mile in seven seconds flat. Dressed like he had, in clinging running shorts and a tank top darkened with sweat across the front of his chest.

She’d never seen him so naked. Never seen his bare legs before. Extremely muscular, toned legs they were too. And none of this trendy metrosexual manscaping for Finn. He had proper golden-brown leg hair and tufts of chest hair sticking out of his top. Not too much, just right. She’d sure like to tug on it.

Finn stared down at her, his hand reaching forward. “I thought there was a fire. Are you alright?” he asked as he retracted his hand and ran it through his nicely tousled hair. “Is… she alright?” Finn nodded at Felicity, his biceps flexing and chunky shoulder muscles moving in all kinds of interesting ways.

Eden felt a lot better than she had a few seconds ago. Well, her lower belly was decidedly warm and tingly, along with her inner thighs. It was a teeny bit sexy, even considering the circumstances.

Wait, she looked a mess! Felicity was still unconscious, and Faith had a mangled, singed alligator hand. What was she meant to say to Finn in the current situation?

Hands shaking, she gesticulated wildly like a cop at the scene of an accident where all the traffic lights had blown, trying to find some way out of a bad situation while salvaging some dignity and avoiding a head-on collision.

She could still be polite amongst all the mayhem. “I’m fine, thank you.” Eden nodded. “Would you like a muffin?”

Finn sucked in a breath. Acrid, smoke-tainted air greeted his lungs. He coughed, shaking his head. Eden was clearly out of her tree if she thought anything about this scene constituted fine.

And what the hell was he doing here in the thick of it? It was a good question, but one he didn’t have time to examine just yet.

He leaned against the edge of a shiny countertop, catching his breath, then turned his head, following the stench of smoke, and spied the blackened muffin corpses on the stovetop. “No, Eden. I don’t want a muffin. Do you want me to call an ambulance?”

Eden shook her head. “No ambulance. Felicity will be okay.” She sounded more like she was trying to convince herself.

What the hell was going on tonight? Finn had been out for a run, feeling fine, when his world imploded as if struck by a planet-sized Death Star.

Before he’d even decided what he was doing, his feet had been in motion, carrying him directly to Eden’s house. Whether he’d planned to talk to her, or yell at her to give him a reason to stay, or tackle her to the ground and kiss her into submission, he wasn’t sure.

Probably a little from option A and a whole lot of option B. Option C would be cool. Although if she wanted to push him to the ground and straddle him, he’d be amenable.

Finn slumped back against the kitchen cabinets. He must be losing his mind. He should be thinking about his family. Eden had some sort of disaster going on, and all he could think about was sex. But who was he kidding? This thing with Doctor Eden was more than sex.

He watched her deflate at his feet, her shoulders slumping, air hissing out between her teeth. Silver stars dotted her oversized gray T-shirt dress. They glinted under the kitchen lights, winking at him. The shirt had ridden up her smooth thighs and gaped low at the front.

Not looking, not looking.

Looking.

Hell, yes, looking.

His groin tightened as his gaze skimmed her shadowed neckline and he caught a glimpse of black lace. Her nipples stood erect under the thin cotton fabric.

It was none of his business. He needed to get his eyes off her tempting curves. Stat.

His gaze darting left, he spied what would have been immediately obvious if he hadn’t been so damned hung up on Eden and her outfit and what lay underneath.

The stove had been on fire, Eden’s sister was standing there by the stove, and wore an alligator puppet on her hand. Felicity still lay on the ground. What the hell? Was this a fun girls’ night in Eden’s world?

He frowned down at Eden. “What did you do to Felicity?”

“Why do you assume it was me? Faith was the one who tried to murder her by muffin.” She breathed out slowly, working to regain her usual calm. “Can’t you help, Mr. I Know Everything About First Aid? She hit her head on the corner of the oven door.”

He blinked at Eden. “Okay. Let’s see how she’s doing.” He dropped to his knees beside Eden, and she scooted across to give him more room.

Checking Felicity’s pulse at her wrist, he counted out steady beats. Good. She’d be okay, assuming that cut on her forehead wasn’t too deep. He glanced at Eden. “Do you have some gloves?”

She nodded and left the room for a moment. When she returned, she held out a pair of disposable gloves and some alcohol wipes. Finn took them and offered Eden a tight smile.

He put on the gloves and examined the cut on Felicity’s and saw Eden must have cleaned it up a little. He cleaned the area and noted Felicity’s eyelids fluttering. Good. It didn’t look major.

Finn looked across to Eden now sitting back on the floor, and noticed the way she stared at him. Eyes wide, lips parted, a tremble in her hands where they rested on her knees. She might be in shock. In no state for serious conversations.

He turned to Faith. Backed up against the kitchen counter, arms crossed across her chest, she stood silent and still. He caught her eye and tipped his chin. “Faith, could you go to the bathroom and check the medicine cabinet? I need some disinfectant and a dressing or bandage of some sort. And a clean washcloth.”

Eden’s sister shook herself slightly and headed toward the bathroom without saying a word.

Finn returned his attention to Felicity and smoothed back her hair. The cut on her forehead wasn’t too serious on its own, but she’d struck her head. He couldn’t rule out a concussion.

“How long has she been unconscious?”

Eden turned her head toward him, a confused frown crossing her face. “Not sure. A few minutes? I heard a crash and came from the living room as quick as I could. Faith said she ran in the back door, then tripped and smacked her head on the oven door.”

Probably not enough to completely knock her out. Leaning close to Felicity’s mouth to check her breathing, he almost choked on toxic fumes. The good news was she was breathing. The bad news was she was breathing out nearly pure alcohol. Felicity was smashed.

He nodded at Eden, who now sat on her butt, her long, bare, strokable legs stretched out in front of her. Cute pink socks with black bows on the edges covered her feet.

Focus.

“Does she usually drink much?”

“Felicity? No, only a beer or two after work. A glass of wine sometimes.”

“Well, she stinks like a brewery right now.”

Eden frowned, pursing her pink lips. She sniffed the air. “Oh.”

“Let’s patch her up and see how she goes.”

Faith reappeared with the medical supplies, so he cleaned Felicity’s forehead, then asked for some ice. Once he’d put together an ice pack, he applied it to the area too, hoping it would at least keep the bruising to a minimum.

Felicity’s face contorted, then her lips parted, and she spat out, “S’cold.”

Finn’s mouth twitched at the corner. “She lives!”

He glanced over at Eden, who’d pressed a hand to her mouth, then she dropped it back into her lap and breathed out slowly.

Leaning over, he repositioned the ice pack. “Yes, it’s cold. Talk to me, Felicity. How many drinks have you had tonight?”

Felicity gazed at the ceiling as if trying to remember something from a long time ago. “Um, beer, three maybe, couple of wines. Then Fish got tequila shots. Slammers.”

Slammers. Causing her to slam her head into an immovable object. Sounded about right. “Who’s Fish?”

“McTavish. Call him Fish for short. Suits him.” She snorted and smacked her head lightly. “He got me drunk, but I got him drunker. Got him to spill some secrets.” She tapped the side of her nose a few times, missing the first time.

Finn whipped his head around to look at Eden and noticed her eyebrows had shot up to somewhere around her hairline. He moved to sit behind Felicity and helped her sit up, supporting her shoulders. Eden took hold of Felicity’s hands and hauled her friend upright.

Finn stared over Felicity’s shoulder into Eden’s eyes. “Okay, let’s get you sobered up, and then you can tell us about these secrets.” It was probably time more people knew what was going on with McTavish.

Eden turned to her sister, again hovering by the stove. “Faith, put the coffee maker on, please. We’re going to need some caffeinating.”

“Yes, boss.” Humor had returned to Faith’s voice.

It took them a while to get Felicity into a more sober state. Eden plied her with coffee and water, plus a couple of Advil. Now, seated at her small kitchen table, surrounded by smaller women, Finn felt like a giant in Fairyland as he sipped his coffee.

They listened in silence, and as Felicity’s story unfolded, Eden’s bright violet eyes grew ever wider, gleaming under the kitchen lights with a kind of righteous fury.

His own skin heated as his fists clenched and unclenched on the cool tabletop. But he kept his shit together and listened, letting the details tumble from Felicity’s lips. It was worth the wait.

McTavish, the scumbag, had a lot of things coming to him, none of them good. And Finn would be only too happy to deliver them to the man’s doorstep in a steaming pile. One look at Eden told him she felt the same.

He nodded at Eden, and a glimmer of a smile crossed her lips. Something passed between them, no words required. He wanted to be on the same side. For better or worse.

He had the feeling there was a hell of a lot of worse still to come. This workplace stuff, McTavish’s transgressions, it could end up in court. He’d been forced to gather information already, but Finn couldn’t say too much to the other people around the table or he could be on the wrong side of the law. But that wasn’t all that was on his mind.

His father was sick, and he worried his mother wouldn’t cope on her own. She’d fallen apart after her eldest son died. Matthew had been her pride and joy, her favorite, even though she denied it. If she lost the man she still called her sweetheart, she’d probably fall into a black pit of depression again. Who knew if she’d ever recover?

All things considered, Finn should quit his job and head home to Melbourne permanently. If he didn’t get the special projects funding or if McTavish took his project over, there’d be no point staying on at Magna Smart anyway. If he could get out in time, he had options to consider.

There were other jobs, not as lucrative or potentially groundbreaking, but jobs he could do in Australia. He could buy a house back home.

But that wasn’t all he was considering.

He glanced across the table at the woman with sparkling violet eyes. He had her to consider too.