It’s a girl’s beach week—until the hottie from high school shows up. So who gets Finn?
by Lisa Scott
Brooke held up the beautiful red sandal and sighed. “Poor little stranded Manolo.” She patted the shoe. “I’ve walked up and down the shore searching for its mate. So tragic.” She rubbed it against her cheek like it was a stray kitten.
“Seriously?” Catherine shook her head. “You could wear a stranger’s shoes?”
Brooke shrugged, her blond curls bobbing against her shoulder. “They’re half a size too small, but I’d make it work.”
I sighed. “I wonder if the girl who lost them found her prince. It’s like a seaside Cinderella story.”
“Or Jaws,” Monica offered, scanning the ocean, probably searching for a shark fin to prove her point.
“Jaws? ” I looked at her, confused.
She fiddled with her long, brown ponytail. “You know, that woman at the beginning. I’m sure someone found her clothes the next day. Ooh! Overboard! Maybe she fell off a yacht!”
I finished my soda. “I’m sticking with my Cinderella theory.”
“Forget the fairy tale, girls. We’ve got a real life happily-ever-after headed our way. A solid eight, possibly a nine once I see his backside.” Catherine lowered her sunglasses and leaned forward as a bronzed god walked our way along the shore.
Brooke sighed. “Those thighs earn him a nine, for sure. And I’m sure those trunks are by Marc Jacobs. Nice.”
I dug my toes in the sand and watched the guy strolling by. He slowed as he walked past us and smiled. “He’d do in a pinch,” I said.
Catherine snorted, tossing her mane of shiny, black hair. “I’d like a pinch of that,” she said, loud enough to be heard.
“Shh!” hissed Brooke, blushing.
Boy-watching on the beach certainly brought out our lusty sides.
Monica waved at him. “I’m so glad Chad and I broke up last month,” she mumbled to us.
“When’s the last time the four of us have been single at the same time?” I asked.
“Freshman year of high school?” Brooke suggested.
The girls nodded thoughtfully, trying to remember back through our fifteen-year friendship that began when we met in middle school. I did a quick scan of relationship histories and shrugged, surprised. “It’s true. We haven’t all been single at once since high school.”
“Speaking of high school memories, doesn’t this guy look like that actor from that movie Heartbreak Beach? ” Catherine asked, jutting her chin in the direction of a guy headed our way.
“Michael Sullivan?” I squinted at him. He had dimples and wavy dark hair, just like the 90’s teen heartthrob, but I wasn’t sure. “Maybe. More like his older brother.”
Monica frowned, shaking her head. “I watched that movie twenty-eight times. I’d know if that was Michael Sullivan.” Adjusting the straps on her bikini, she nodded, satisfied with her self-proclaimed title of Monica Duncan, Movie Trivia Goddess. Not that anyone fought her for the title. And not that she deserved it. Her facts were often wrong.
“Forget him, here comes Adonis himself,” Catherine said, taking her glasses off.
Brooke sat up, squinting. “Is that who I think it is?”
Monica sucked in a breath. “Oh my God … it’s…”
“Finn Donahue!” The three girls all cooed at once.
I looked at the six-foot-four specimen of man perfection coming our way. “Who’s Finn Donahue?”
Surprisingly, their gazes snapped from him to me. “You’re joking, right?”
I shook my head. “How do you all know him?”
They giggled, like we were back at a sleepover party and Dennis Hicks was outside throwing rocks at the window.
“Seriously? You don’t remember Finn?” Monica snapped her fingers. “That’s right. Your mother never let you go to parties across town with the prep school kids. Finn Donahue was only the hottest guy to ever walk the halls of St. Anthony’s Prep.” She started fanning herself with her hand.
Brooke nodded, retying her ponytail into a chic knot, just like Jennifer Lopez was wearing in the issue of People on Brooke’s lap. “It’s true. We looked at all the senior class pictures going back thirty years. He outshines them all.”
Catherine sucked in her stomach, stuck out her chest, and stood up as he came closer. Heading for the water, she paused and pretended she’d just spotted him. She shaded her eyes. “Finn? Finn Donahue? Is that you?”
He stopped and rubbed the back of his head, the tips of his tousled black hair moving with the breeze. “Yeah, I’m Finn.”
Catherine clasped her hands in front of her—a familiar gesture from tenth grade. “It’s me, Catherine Greene, from Foxboro High?”
The other girls stood up and walked over while I sat under my umbrella gazing at abs that should be illegal, thick thighs that tensed as he shifted in the sand, and a one-thousand-watt smile that threatened to burn my retinas. I held my breath and wondered if the lifeguard sitting up in his tower had ever needed to administer CPR to someone who wasn’t drowning; I’d forgotten how to breathe.
I watched my friends bouncing on their toes and twirling their hair. They’d regressed at least a decade in maturity around this guy. The quirked corner of his mouth suggested he’d noticed the same thing. Then he glanced over at me sitting under my umbrella. I was always trying to make sure my skin didn’t turn as red as my hair. Makes for a fun time at the beach.
“Who’s that?” he asked, nodding his head in my direction. “I’d certainly remember her.”
“That’s Anna. Her mom didn’t let her go to the cool parties with us,” Brooke said. “Such a shame. She had the cutest party clothes.”
“Come here and meet Finn,” Monica said, waving me their way.
I stood up and brushed the sand off my arms as I walked over. “Hi,” I said, offering my hand.
He shook it a bit longer than necessary; so much for my not turning red. That short introduction to his flesh made me want to escape to the cool ocean. How pathetic that a handshake could make me hot.
He dropped my hand and grinned. “So, you didn’t get to go to the cool parties, huh?”
“My mother was a major party pooper. She always thought we’d get up to no good.”
“And she was right,” Brooke said.
“Sounds like you need to make up for lost time. My buddy Lance is holding an invitation-only grand opening party tonight at Mackie’s, just up the beach. Why don’t you guys join us?”
Eyes widened and promises were made—as casually as possible—to stop by.
“You, too, Anna?” he asked.
I shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. “Sure. We’ll all come.”
“Great. Just tell the guy at the door you’re friends with me.” And with that he waved and walked off. He looked back over his well-built shoulder. “See you later.”
Approximately fifteen seconds passed before the girls dashed back to their towels, squealing and gathering up their coolers and cover-ups.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Shopping,” Catherine said, like I was an idiot.
“I didn’t bring anything remotely cute enough for a party with Finn Donahue,” Brooke said. “I have the perfect Donna Karan at home, but I’ll just have to settle for something here.” She sighed.
I planted my hand on my hips, hoping to instill some sense back to the group. “He could have a girlfriend for all you know,” I said.
“He didn’t have a ring, and that’s the important thing,” Monica said with a brisk nod. She twisted her lips, thinking. “Was that a line from a movie?”
“Hello, vacation fling?” Brooke said, stuffing her magazines into her beach bag.
“But who gets him?” Catherine asked.
Monica stopped to think, tapping her finger against her nose. “Whose turn is it?”
I made a time-out sign with my hands. “Wait one minute. You guys hooked up with him? All of you?”
Catherine blinked. “Not at the same time.”
I rolled my eyes. “No, seriously, you guys have all been with him?”
Brooke raised her hand. “After a football game senior year. I was wearing this beautiful blue Dolce and Gabbana shirt. I didn’t wash it for a month.”
I looked at Monica, who said, “At one of his parties. It was sooo Can’t Hardly Wait.”
“Post prom,” Catherine offered. “And he wasn’t my date.”
I sighed. “He’s a womanizer.”
“Most guys who look like that are,” Brooke said to me slowly, like she was explaining nuclear physics to an airhead.
I closed my beach umbrella and tucked it under my arm. “You guys can battle it out over him, I’m not interested.”
“Did you even look at his abs?” Catherine asked, shaking out her beach towel.
“Let’s not fight over him, girls. Can’t have a man breaking up our friendship. Whoever he picks, he picks. Right?” Monica looked at us expectantly.
“Right,” said Brooke and Catherine.
I just shrugged. I was more allergic to guys like Finn Donahue than I was to shrimp. And just one bite of a shrimp would send me to the E.R. I’d be staying far away from him, because there’s no EpiPen for the damage done by hot men.
We headed back to our rental house, dropped off our stuff, and hit town to check out some of the boutiques. I wasn’t going to the party looking like a slouch, and maybe I’d meet someone else.
We had great fun modeling sundresses and tropical-print skirts for each other, before we each found the perfect party dress. I tried on a strapless aqua sundress that fit like a glove and grazed the floor.
“You look amazing in that,” Brooke told me. “Vera Wang has something just like it this season, but this was half the price!” She clapped her hands in applause.
“Thanks.” Too bad I was no longer interested in the guy who invited us. I could pass up a cute guy, but I was never one to turn down a cute dress, whatever the label.
We got our nails done, then argued over who got the shower first and spent nearly two hours getting ready and another hour finishing off two bottles of wine, before we declared ourselves ready to hit the party.
“This is so exciting! So Sex on the Seaside,” Monica said, as we strolled down the street toward the restaurant.
It was less than half a mile away, and not the easiest walk in my new wedge sandals. I imagined it would be even harder on the way back after a few drinks. What women won’t do for fashion.
The bar in the restaurant was packed, and I knew each of us was scanning the place, looking for Finn. Just because I didn’t want to touch didn’t mean I wasn’t going to look.
From the smile on Brooke’s face, I figured she’d found him. I followed her gaze, and there he was, leaning against the bar talking to the guy serving drinks.
It hadn’t been a mirage in the sand; he really was as hot as I remembered.
“I can’t believe no one has snagged him yet,” Catherine said. “Come on girls, let’s go get him before the locals do.”
We followed her to the bar, and damn my silly heart for kicking up a notch. A few notches, actually. But I couldn’t argue the truth: Finn was a gorgeous man with a smile that probably anaesthetized his victims.
“Ladies, you’re all looking lovely tonight.” His voice was a deep rumble, laced with testosterone and heat. I imagined his mouth pressed up against my ear and sucked in a breath.
My friends were having similar reactions. The four of us smoothed our dresses and touched our lips, shrugging and giggling like our dates had just arrived for junior prom. Only, we were all vying for the same guy. Well, not me, anyway. I was just looking. It was like the $800 handbag I’d seen while we were shopping—gorgeous, to-die-for, but ridiculous to even consider.
He took his time looking us over appreciatively. “I was just heading out to the patio. I’ll get us some drinks, and then why don’t you join me?” He placed an order with the cocktail waitress and held the door open for us.
I was last to file out, and he smiled at me. “Glad to see your mother didn’t object to a night out. I was hoping you’d come.”
My voice was nowhere to be found, so I just smiled and stepped outside into the warm night air.
We sat around a table, and Finn was seated next to me. With five of us, it was a tight squeeze and his right leg was pressed up against mine. Oh, it was a nice, hard leg.
Catherine flipped her silky black hair over her shoulders and leveled her gaze at Finn. “So, what are you up to these days? You married? Any kids?”
“So much for small talk,” I muttered.
Finn laughed. “No wife, no kids. I’m a firefighter in Quincy.”
We all sucked in a breath at that news. A real life hottie-hero sitting at the table with us. I hadn’t thought the man could be even more appealing.
“For real?” Monica asked, wide-eyed. She had a thing for blue-collar guys. Although Finn could have been a street bum and she’d probably have a thing for him. She started fiddling with her dangly earrings.
He nodded. “I’ve got two weeks off and I always spend part of my summer down here at my folks’ place. They’re in England right now, so I’ve got the place to myself.” He laced his hands behind his head and grinned. “Where are you girls staying?”
“67 Beach Avenue. There’s a spare key under the flower pot on the front step,” Brooke blurted out.
I whacked her arm. Once the girls stopped gawking and started talking—turning their lust down from boil to simmer—we swapped stories from high school and chatted about what we were doing now.
“What do you do, Anna?” he asked. That darn leg of his was still bumping up against mine.
“I’m a middle school art teacher.” I swirled the remnants of my drink in the glass.
“So, you’ve got the whole summer off to play,” he said with a tempting, arched eyebrow.
“Anna doesn’t know how to play. You’re probably repainting your kitchen this summer, aren’t you?” Catherine asked.
Brooke smiled. “Or installing a new fence?”
“Fixing the gutters?” Monica suggested.
I set down my drink. “So, I’m responsible. Sue me.”
“A do-it-yourselfer, huh?” Finn asked. “I like that.” His voice came out in a growl.
I lifted a shoulder. “I bought my first house last year. Let’s just say it was a total handyman special and I’m not handy and I don’t have a man. It’s been an education.”
“She painted a beautiful mural in her bedroom,” Monica said with a nod.
“I’d like to see that sometime,” he said.
A sudden flash of heat had me bolting straight up in my seat. “Anyone need to use the ladies’ room?”
I expected the whole lot of them to jump up and join me like they normally would have. But instead, they looked at Finn and said, “No thanks, I’m fine. I’m good.”
I rolled my eyes and headed back inside.
Monica caught up to me. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “Seems like Finn’s interested in you.”
“Right. Because I’m the one girl in the group he hasn’t had. That’s not reason enough for me. I’ll let you ladies scuffle over him. I’m not interested.”
She crossed her arms and jutted out her hip. “Liar.”
I shook my head and pushed my way into the restroom. And sure, I checked my hair and reapplied my lipstick, but not because of Finn Donahue. I just like to look my best, that’s all.
When I returned to the table I was happy to see Finn, Brooke, and Catherine dancing near the outdoor bar. Monica was still seated, and when she spotted me, she waved to me and ran to join them. “Save our table!” she hollered back.
I watched the three of them getting their groove on next to Finn, who wasn’t a slouch on the dance floor. He caught me staring at him and I snapped my head down, studying a splotch of margarita someone had spilled on the table.
When I looked back up, he was watching me. The back of my neck felt hot and I drummed my fingers on the table, glancing around at the nautical decorations. A giant fish net was draped across the exterior of the restaurant. It was a good reminder: don’t get caught by any smooth-talking sharks.
A new song started playing and I bopped my foot to the music. I sensed someone walking my way. It was Finn. He took a seat next to me. “How come you’re not dancing?”
I shrugged. “I’ve been ordered to guard the table. And you’ve got your hands full.”
He looked back at the dance floor and then at me. “But you’re the one I wanted to dance with.”
I closed my eyes and let out a sigh. “Listen. I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m not another girl to add to your conquests. You can’t have the whole Foxboro High collection.”
He let out a short, surprised laugh. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m the only one in the group you haven’t hooked up with. I’m sure I’m just some sort of challenge for you.”
He dropped his head back, and this time the laugh was loud and long.
“It wasn’t that funny.”
“Yeah, it was. I’m not in high school anymore. You don’t think it’s possible I’ve grown up?”
I crossed my arms. “You’re the only man I’ve ever met who’s been with all my friends.”
“Don’t think every guy in high school wouldn’t have tried. I just happened to be luckier than most.” He turned up his hands and shrugged. “Don’t hate me for being honest. And don’t judge me when you don’t even know me.”
“I know your type.” I pointed a finger at him. “And I just dumped someone like you six months ago.” Which wasn’t totally true. Mitch hadn’t been half as charming or attractive as Finn.
“Oh, and how was he like me?”
I sat up and squared my shoulders. “More interested in the next girl ‘round the corner than he was in me.”
He leaned toward me. “If you haven’t noticed, you’re the only girl I’ve been interested in tonight.” He gestured behind him. “I got dragged out onto the dance floor. But I came back, looking for you.”
Realizing he was right, I struggled to swallow. “Why me? If it’s not to score a perfect hundred from our little group, then what’s your motivation? Never dated a redhead?”
He laughed. “I live in Boston. I’ve dated plenty of redheaded lassies.” He faked an Irish brogue and shook his head. “Oh, I don’t know. It certainly has nothing to do with your beautiful, long, red hair that looks amazing against your creamy skin.” He brushed a strand of hair off my shoulder and I shivered. “And I’m not interested at all in finding out what you’re really like when you’re not trying so hard to act uptight. It’s cute, actually.”
My mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out.
“And it certainly isn’t those green eyes. Or the way your curves fill out that dress.” He shook his head. “None of that business. I guess I just have a thing for art teachers. Do-it-yourselfer, middle school art teachers.”
I tipped my chin and looked away from him, hoping he wouldn’t notice how easily this creamy skin of mine turned pink with embarrassment. I glanced at my friends on the dance floor. They’d found some good-looking new partners, but they were casting curious looks my way. A little knot of anger burned in my belly. I wasn’t going to be his next fling. My girlfriends might want to have fun, but I wanted more than that.
I turned back to him. “I’m just here to relax this week. I’m sure you’ll find another beach babe to entertain you.” I stood up and grabbed my purse. “I’m going to tell the girls I’m headed back to the rental. Thanks for the invite to the party. Tell your friend it’s a great place.” I headed for the dance floor.
He followed me. “You shouldn’t be wandering around alone at night. Let me walk you back.”
I looked back at him. “You don’t need to.” I walked over and tapped Brooke’s shoulder. “I’m leaving.”
Her eyes widened. “With Finn?”
“No! Although he’s insisting on walking me home.”
Her eyes flicked over at him as he lingered on the concrete patio behind me. “Go for it girl; it’s pretty clear he’s interested.”
“Well, I’m not,” I lied. But that’s the story I was sticking with. My hormones were interested, but my brain kept me from being a fool. I pushed my way through the metal gate leading to the parking lot.
Finn was right behind me.
“Is this some firefighter code of honor?” I asked as we walked toward the road.
“No, just common sense. If I had a sister, I wouldn’t want her walking home from a bar alone at night,” he said.
Okay, I’ll buy that. “No sisters, huh? What about brothers?”
“I’m an only child.”
A couple of brothers who looked like him would have been a nice solution for my gal pals. “Being an only child was my dream—I grew up with two older sisters and a kid brother.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Guess you always want what you don’t have.”
I pointed at him. “See? That’s my point exactly about why you’re interested in me.”
He held up his hands. “And you’re absolutely wrong. But I’m not one to force myself on a lady. I can take no for an answer.” He grinned in the dark while my stomach flip-flopped. But I knew I was doing the right thing.
Now that I’d made it known I wasn’t interested, we chatted easily on the walk back to the rental. He loved to cook. He read novels and worked out on his downtime at the station and shared my love of skiing. But when we stopped at the front door, the casual conversation dried up, and I was hit with first-date goodnight jitters. And this wasn’t even a date.
I looked up at him. “Thanks. That was really nice of you. You’re right. I shouldn’t be walking around by myself at night. You headed back to the bar?” If my friends were lucky, he’d make his move on one of them.
He braced his hand against the doorframe. “No, I’m headed back to my place. I’ve got plans tomorrow morning.” He stepped back. “See you on the beach.”
I wrapped my arms around myself. “Yeah, I’m sure I will.”
And without a single bad line or a smooth attempt at a kiss, he smiled and walked into the darkness.
I lay in bed listening to the surf, wondering if I was the stupidest woman in the world for letting him go.
***
The girls rolled in after two a.m., and I woke up at six along with the sunrise. Since I’d gotten to bed at a respectable hour, I decided to go for an early jog on the beach. I had to do something to burn off the calories from all the alcohol and goodies we’d been consuming. Monica had apparently bought out the entire section of cupcakes at her favorite bakery, while salt-loving Catherine had brought seven different varieties of potato chips. We only had three bags left.
I stretched out and ran toward the pier in the distance. It was at least two miles away. There and back would make a nice little run. The tide was low, and the place was mostly deserted, except for a few people poking around looking for shells and sea glass. I’d only run about a quarter mile when I spotted the familiar outline of a hot firefighter burning up the beach even at that hour. He stooped down with a small rake and dragged it through the sand.
I ran up to him and stopped, bracing my hands above my knees. “Building a sandcastle was your big plan for this morning?” I grinned at him.
He laughed and reached his hand deep in the sand, churning up black, mucky goo. He plucked something from the depths and held it up. “I’m having a clam bake tonight and maybe clam chowder tomorrow if I get lucky.” He stood up and tossed the clam in one of the buckets at his feet.
Huh. He was out trolling for mollusks, not women. “How do you know where to find them?”
“You just start digging. It’s easier to find them at low tide.”
“I’ve never been clamming.”
“It’s kind of a family tradition. You can just feel around with your foot, but using a rake helps. Once, I beached my father’s boat in a sand bar and the motor kicked up enough sand to give us baskets of clams. Good eatin’ that weekend, that’s for sure.” He looked like a goofy kid with the grin and his dirty feet.
“Sounds like you’ve had a lot of good times down here.” Not just the hooking up kind either, I wanted to add.
He nodded. “It’s something I hope to pass down to my kids some day, if I’m lucky enough to have a family.”
“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem for you. Are you seeing anyone right now?”
He gave me a look. “I wouldn’t have hit on you last night if I were.” He shook his head. “I’ll admit, I played the field for quite a few years, but now I’m having a hard time shaking my reputation. Everyone just assumes I’m looking for a good time.”
I put my hands on my hips. “I’ll try to spread the word: Finn Donahue is a changed man.”
He copied my move. “I’d be happy if you just believed it yourself.”
Blushing, I looked down and traced the toe of my sneaker along the sand. “But how does a guy like you just change all of a sudden?”
He crossed his arms and looked out over the water. “You see a lot of shit in this job. People lose families. Or they’re injured, and their life is changed forever.” He looked back at me. “It puts things in perspective.” He shook his head. “We lost one of our guys a few months back. Attic fire. He fell through the floor doing a search.” His voice cracked.
I reached out and touched his arm. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks. Just makes you realize life is short, you know?”
I nodded. It explained a lot. But if this was all just a ploy to get me to reconsider going out with him, then he was even more of a hound than my friends thought. Though I doubted he could fake the pain I saw in his face. I pulled my hand away.
“Want me to help hunt for clams?” I peered in his buckets. He only had half a dozen or so.
His smile returned. “Sure. Only if you promise to come to the clambake tonight.”
“Can I bring the rest of the girls?”
“It wouldn’t be a party without them.”
He gave me the rake and I knelt beside him, dragging the tines through the sand and pulling up the fist-sized, gray-white shells. Finn plucked them out of the sand and tossed them in the buckets. We took turns, alternating between raking and plucking.
My running outfit was getting dirty from the black mucky sand below the surface. Finn was streaked in dirt, too. “We’re both a mess,” I said.
He reached for my hand and pulled me up. “Let’s wash off.” He pulled me toward the water, and we splashed in together.
I sucked in a breath. “This is freezing!” My teeth chattered.
“It’ll feel good later today when the sun’s blazing.” He wrapped an arm around me. “I’ll keep you warm for now.” My cheek was pressed against his wet shirt, and I could feel the rock hard muscles beneath.
“That better?” he asked.
I nodded, but feeling myself in his embrace only made me shiver more.
He must have felt it. “Let’s get you a towel. My place is close by.”
He kept one arm wrapped around my shoulder as we sloshed out of the water. His big hand felt nice against my skin, but then it slipped away when we reached the buckets of clams. He took one in each hand.
“Let me grab one.”
“It’s not a problem. I could carry the two buckets back to my place with you over my shoulder and not break a sweat.”
“Oh.” I tried to ignore the twinges in my belly as I imagined that scenario.
He winked at me. “Part of my job, gotta keep in shape.”
I followed him to a tidy white house just up from where we had been digging. It was an older home with shrubby beach roses lining the property and a big fire pit ringed with stones and clamshells right in the middle of the yard. Big pieces of driftwood lined the seating area. “Cute place,” I said. It wasn’t one of the ostentatious new builds that dotted the shore of the Cape. The weathered shingles and simple lines of the home suggested decades of casual, family get-togethers.
He pulled a towel off a clothesline near the house and handed it to me. Then he stripped off his shirt, exposing his incredible abs and taut back. Really, how could a girl not gawk? I frowned when he pulled on a new shirt.
“Sorry I interrupted your run,” he said.
“This was more fun.” I forced myself to look away. “What do you have to do to prepare them for the clambake?” Surprisingly, I wasn’t ready to leave. Our morning together had been fun.
“The batch I’m going to steam will stay in the water until later tonight. But we’ve got enough for chowder tomorrow. Come inside and I’ll show you a family secret for kick-ass New England clam chowder. Haven’t even told the boys at the firehouse this one.”
“Are you sure?” I teased. “That’s a pretty big thing to give up so early in the game.” I stopped myself, but Finn grinned at my words that suggested I had indeed decided to give the man a chance. My stomach tumbled at the news. I wasn’t sure when I’d subconsciously made that decision, but there it was.
He was gracious enough not to point it out. He reached into a cupboard over the refrigerator and pulled out a box of cornmeal. “This right here is the Donahue family secret.” He laughed. “Well, not anymore.”
“I won’t tell a soul. But what does cornmeal have to do with clam chowder?”
He set it on the counter and grabbed a big metal bowl from another cupboard, filling it with water. “Ever have gritty clam chowder?”
Grimacing, I nodded.
“That’s because the clams pull in sand when they take in water.” He dumped the rest of the clams in the bowl of water, along with a handful of salt. “But if we shake a little cornmeal in here, they’ll end up spitting out the sand and ingesting the cornmeal. We’re going to change the water every half hour for the next three hours and it’ll taste a lot better in the end.” He shook the box of cornmeal over the clams.
“Very impressive. You could’ve been a chef.”
He shook his head. “Nah, I love what I do. Getting up in the morning and knowing I could save someone’s life is one hell of a feeling. Must be a similar feeling being a teacher. Not saving lives, but making a difference, you know?”
“You’re right. For some kids, school is the only stability in their lives. And art class is a great opportunity for expression.” It was nice knowing that someone understood that feeling. I smiled at him and got caught in his stare. I looked away. “I should get back to the house. The girls will be wondering where I am.”
“Can I walk you back?”
“Sure.”
He closed up the house and got me a new towel from the line, since mine had gotten damp already. I draped it around me, wishing it were Finn’s arm instead. But it was nice just walking with him.
I figured the girls would still be sleeping, but Monica was on the back deck drinking coffee when we wandered up. Her eyes went wide and she ran her hands through her hair; probably some instant primping reflex that kicked in when a hot guy showed up. “I thought you came home last night?” A smirk crept across her face.
I planted one hand on my hip. “I did. Early enough that I was able to go out for a jog this morning.”
“And look who you ran into,” she said with a smile.
“I needed some help digging up clams,” Finn said.
“And it looks like you went swimming. Or took a shower…” Monica tapped her finger against her nose, thinking.
“We got dirty and washed off in the water. Finn invited us to a clambake at his place tonight.”
“All of us or just you?” One eyebrow popped up.
I let out an exasperated sigh. “I told you, I came home last night.”
“Not that I didn’t try,” Finn offered.
I jabbed him with my elbow.
“We’ll bring the mojitos. Brooke has this fabulous basil watermelon concoction,” Monica said.
“Great. I’ll see you at six, if I don’t catch you on the beach first.” Finn smiled and then looked at me. “Thanks again for your help, Anna. It was nice spending time with you.”
I just knew I was blushing. “No problem. See you later.”
Monica’s mouth dropped open as he walked away. “Who was that guy? What did you do with the real Finn Donahue?”
Catherine and Brooke wandered out onto the deck wearing nothing but t-shirts. “Finn?” Brooke said, suddenly perking up and looking around. “Finn was here?”
“Yes, walking Anna back from a romantic morning of clam digging.” She rolled her eyes. “But our tiger has turned into a pussy cat. What gives? It was like eavesdropping on a conversation at the sixth grade Sweetheart’s Dance. Didn’t you two hook up last night?”
I sat down at the table and grabbed the rest of Monica’s bagel. “No! He walked me home, and when I told him I wasn’t interested in being another conquest. He was a perfect gentleman.” I took a big bite, chewing hard to work off some frustration.
“Finn Donahue? You turned down Finn Donahue?” Catherine asked.
Brooke’s eyes went wide. “And he was a perfect gentleman?”
I looked up at the sky. “I’m not looking for a beach fling.”
“Yet, he’s still following you around.” Catherine took a long drink of her coffee. “Interesting.”
I shrugged. “He said he’s changed. That he’d seen some tough stuff on the job that made him reevaluate things.”
They gave me doubting looks.
“What?” It came out more defensively than I’d meant it to.
Monica narrowed her eyes. “That just might be a very good line. Lure you in with his Mr. Soft-Hearted routine and then eat you up like a lobster dinner.” She nodded, satisfied with her ocean-themed analogy, being on the beach and all.
But that idea actually worried me a bit.
“I hate to say it, but she might be right. A leopard can’t change his spots, isn’t that what they say?” Brooke asked.
“And he was quite spotty back in high school,” Catherine offered.
“Doesn’t matter. We’re just friends.” But that felt like a lie coming out, because there was definitely an undercurrent between the two of us that we’d both acknowledged back in his kitchen. Question was, would I be willing to jump in and find out where that current would take me?
And would I drown in the sea of women castoff by Finn?
After hearing about the rest of the night the girls spent at the bar, and the French guys who tried to pick them up with lines worthy of the cheesiest fondue, we hit the beach around noon. I’ll admit it. I was scanning the shore for Finn as we scoped out the perfect spot to set up our beach umbrellas, coolers, and towels.
“He’s over there,” Brooke said, watching me survey the shore.
I thought about playing dumb, but I’d been found out. “Can’t blame a girl for looking, can you?” I squeezed a handful of sunscreen into my palm, and smoothed it across my skin.
Finn spotted us right away and left the volleyball game he was playing with some other guys. The girls must have officially given up on him, because they were busy scoping out his friends instead of watching him walk up to me.
I finished applying the lotion to my legs as he walked up. “Don’t want to burn,” I told him.
His voice got all sultry and smooth. “Don’t forget, you have a firefighter on hand to put the flames out if things get too hot.” We both broke out into laughter.
“You must come up with some pretty good lines in your profession,” I said, hating to think about women swooning over him at fire scenes. Women probably set small fires hoping he’d arrive to save the day.
“I can make you scream louder than my siren,” he said in a deep, husky voice.
I sucked in a breath, then forced a laugh, remembering it was a cheesy line, not an actual come-on. I’m sure it would be effective, though. “Clever,” I managed to say.
“Yeah, me and the guys try to outdo each other when we’ve got time to kill. Way too many jokes about fire poles and hoses.” He knelt down in the sand next to me and my stomach rolled again, just looking at him. “Need some help putting that on your back? I’m also a certified EMT, so I imagine preventing a sunburn would fall under my duties.”
I stared at him and couldn’t hold back my smile. “I suppose that qualifies you for the job.” I lifted my hair off my neck and handed him the tube.
He squirted the lotion in his hands and rubbed them together. He spread the cool cream across my shoulders with slow, broad strokes. His fingers slid up my neck, gently rubbing in the cream.
I swallowed the soft moan that was working its way up my throat. I hadn’t really thought this one through.
He squeezed out more sunscreen and worked his way down my back, slipping his fingers under my bikini string. He was thorough, I had to give him that. Then his fingers curled around my waist and down to my hips. That gasp I’d been holding back finally slipped out.
“Too cold?” he asked.
“No,” I said. “A little too hot.”
He laughed, and came closer, nudging my ear with his nose. “But did you like it?”
I turned around and looked at him. I could only nod.
Reaching for my hand, his fingers twined between mine and he squeezed. I squeezed back. I felt myself leaning in for a kiss, but he pulled me up instead. I looked at him, surprised.
Then he picked me up in his arms and ran toward the water.
I squealed. “What are you doing?”
“I promised to cool you off if things got too hot, didn’t I?” His grin would have buckled my knees if he weren’t holding me.
I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and hung on. I looked back and saw the girls watching. Catherine flashed me a thumbs up.
Finn splashed into the water and finally set me down when we were waist deep. He put his hands on my waist and kissed my forehead. “Are you okay with this?”
I looked up at him and nodded. He reached down and brushed his lips over mine. The sound of the surf filled my ears as the world around me disappeared.
Then I heard the hoots and hollers from my friends on the beach. “I’m never going to hear the end of this,” I said.
“You’re right. I should have made sure our first kiss was in private, but I couldn’t help myself.” He pulled me against him and then whispered in my ear, “Later.”
“Absolutely,” I finally managed to say.
He grabbed my hand and led me out of the water. “Come on, let’s see if you and your friends kick ass on the volleyball court.”
***
We did not kick ass on the volleyball court, mostly because my girlfriends were too busy checking out the competition’s asses. We lost three games and a bet, which involved promises of a risqué hot tub game of strip poker later that night.
“But not you,” Finn told me after the game. “It’s just you and me tonight.”
To say that scared the hell out of me is putting it mildly. Mostly because I thought it sounded absolutely perfect. How had I changed my mind so completely in just twenty-four hours?
“In the meantime, want to help me get ready for the clambake?”
“I’m sure I can’t match your cooking prowess, but I make a good assistant.” I followed him up to the house, which earned another round of catcalls from my friends and now his friends, too. I didn’t even bother flashing any dirty looks their way.
I kicked off my flip-flops on his patio, and he opened the door for me. He led me into the cool, dark refuge of the family room. “Truth is, there’s really not much we have to do to get ready.” He pulled me toward him.
“I kind of figured that.”
He ran a hand through my hair and gently tugged a handful of it, raising my face to his. “Then you’re probably thinking what I’m thinking.” His lips brushed mine, and I rested my hands on his hips.
“And what’s that?”
“That this kiss is at least a day overdue.” His lips parted and his tongue danced across mine.
I glanced out the big back window, wondering if anyone could see us. He must’ve sensed my worry, because he picked me up, never breaking our kiss, and carried me to his bedroom down the hall.
I could definitely get used to being carried around by this guy.
He kicked the door closed behind him and laid me on his bed. My suit was still damp from the water. Sand sprinkled off our skin onto the crisp white sheets as he climbed in next to me, running his hand along my hip and under the string of my bikini bottom.
The ceiling fan whirled overhead as we stared at each other.
“I can’t do this with you yet,” I said, betraying my antsy heart. “I just know I’ll look guilty at the party, and then everyone will know.”
“I’m in no hurry,” Finn said, smoothing my hair out on the pillow behind me. “I’d be happy spending the rest of the afternoon just looking at you.” He smiled and kissed my nose.
I wrapped my hand around the back of his head, and brought his mouth to mine. “I’d rather spend the rest of the afternoon kissing, if you don’t mind.”
His lips spread into a grin as they crushed against my mouth.
***
Luckily, we came up for air half an hour before the first guests arrived, so we had time to set out plates and napkins, empty buckets for clamshells, and dishes for melted butter. Finn set a fire in the pit, and placed a huge pot of clams over the flames. He left room for two more pots, one for potatoes and one for cobs of corn.
I grazed my fingers over my lips, remembering our very hot kissing session. He smiled at me, and his sultry gaze made me blush. People would definitely be making some assumptions about our disappearance from the beach.
The girls were the first to show up, freshly changed into cute clothes, while I still wore my bikini. Monica set up the mojito station and she and Catherine got to work muddling the basil.
Brooke came over and pulled a sundress out of her beach bag. “Thought you might need this. That periwinkle Liz Claiborne sundress you have at home would have been better, but this is all you brought. Having fun?” she asked, with more than a twinkle in her eye.
I took the dress from her, grateful to have friends who were not only fun, but thoughtful, too. “Thanks and yes, I’m having a very good time.”
She raised an eyebrow. “A very good time?”
“No. Not that good. Not yet.”
Brooke bit her lip. “We should have warned you. No one can resist the charms of Finn Donahue.”
I wanted to protest that this was more than a casual hookup. At least that’s the vibe I was feeling. But she dashed off to say hello to one of her new buddies from the volleyball game.
Or was this really just a vacation fling with no future on the horizon?
I quickly chased away my thoughts and enjoyed the party. I took on the unofficial role of hostess, helping Finn refill drinks, butter, chips, and whatever else was in demand. Hours later the party thinned out and the girls climbed into the hot tub with a few decks of waterproof cards Finn pulled out of a drawer in the kitchen. He left them outside with instructions to turn off the hot tub before they made their way home. Finn made it pretty clear he wanted all the guests to be gone at some point in the evening.
While the laughter bubbled up from the hot tub outside, I started tidying the kitchen.
Finn grabbed my hand. “Stop. Leave it till the morning.”
“Oh. And you’re so sure I’ll be here in the morning?”
He looked down and a shy grin split his face. “I hope so.”
Oh, the look of uncertainty on his face killed me. “Do I even want to know how many women have woken up here in the morning?”
His face paled a bit. “With the old Finn? No. You don’t. But I’m not he same guy, Anna. I thought you’d figured that out.”
I set my hand on his arm. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I can see that you aren’t the same heartbreaker who bagged all my friends back in high school.”
“That doesn’t sound so good, put like that.”
I’m not entirely sure why I said it, but I grabbed his hand and looked in his eyes. “I trust you, Finn.” And I led him back to the bedroom to finish what we’d started a few hours earlier.
***
We woke up in a tangle of sandy sheets, still wrapped in each other’s arms. He opened his eyes and smiled at me.
“It’s the morning,” I said. “And I’m still here.”
He squeezed me tight. “Good. And sorry about the small bed. You’ll be happy to know I have a king-sized bed at my place in Quincy.”
I looked into his eyes, wondering if he realized the truth that small detail held; he was talking about us beyond this vacation. I closed my eyes and finally relaxed in his arms.
Making the walk of shame back to the rental for a shower and a change of clothes at ten a.m. was mortifying. My friends were awake, drinking coffee on the patio.
“You’re up already?” I asked.
“We haven’t been to bed yet,” Brooke announced.
“But it looks like you have!” Catherine chimed in.
“I don’t want a beach fling,” Monica said, in a singsong imitation of my voice. “Oh, this is just like Pretty Woman except you’re Richard Gere.”
I gave her a look. “Uh, not exactly.” I wrapped my arms around myself. “And it’s not a fling. He’s talking like we’re going to see each other after the vacation.”
The girls stopped grinning and exchanged worried glances. “Anna, we’re talking about Finn Donahue. The king of flings.” Catherine pursed her lips.
“It’s just who he is,” Brooke added quietly. She forced a smile. “Just have fun and don’t worry about the future.”
I shook my head. “No. That’s who he was. He’s different now.”
Silence settled over the group.
I ignored them. “Please tell me Monica made one of her famous omelettes.”
“We went out for breakfast with our volleyball boys,” Catherine told me.
“But there’s an awesome Danish pastry inside,” Brooke said.
I was glad we dropped the Finn discussion. They hadn’t seen the man he’d become. They were still thinking about the boy from high school.
***
And he was proving me right. We spent the next two days together. My friends didn’t give me grief for spending our vacation with a guy instead of them. They would’ve done the same thing if they’d met a guy they were falling for. Finn took me to some of his favorite spots on the Cape, and we had a fabulous sunset picnic on the beach. Better yet, each night ended at his place.
That was fine with the girls; Monica snored, so she was able to have her own room since I wasn’t there.
With two days left in our vacation, I told Finn I wanted to spend the day with my friends. We had planned on doing a whale watching tour, then a bit of shopping along Route Six.
“Have fun,” Finn told me, giving me a long, hot kiss that left my lips tingling.
***
Monica clutched the side of the boat and threw up for the third time. “I feel like Regan in The Exorcist. I never used to get seasick when I was little.”
“You didn’t drink alcohol when you were little.” I rubbed her back when she sat down and offered her a bottle of water. “I’ll drive you to the rental when we get back to port. I can’t imagine you feel like shopping.”
She shook her head. “Thanks.”
“No problem. That’s why we brought two cars, in case we wanted to split up.”
We drove home and I helped Monica get settled in bed, then brought her some crackers and soda. I slipped on my flip-flops and headed down for Finn’s place. He’d planned on cleaning up his place and he’d probably appreciate some help.
I walked along the fence in front of the row of rose bushes. I peeked around the corner of the hedge hoping to sneak up on him with a surprise kiss if he was outside.
And he was—along with a beautiful dark-haired woman whose arms were wrapped around him, her head resting against his chest. Then she raised her lips to his. They were standing at an angle, and I couldn’t see his face, but I’d seen enough.
I leave for the day and he squeezes in a quickie with someone else.
Even if they hadn’t actually made it to the bedroom, he was kissing another woman after spending every day and night with me, and talking about our future after the trip.
I’m so stupid. I’d been warned, after all, but I fell for him anyway.
I thought about confronting him, but I didn’t want him to see how badly he’d hurt me. I turned and ran back to the rental. My friends had been right. He was still a smooth-talking shit. I couldn’t face them, and I certainly couldn’t face him. I packed up my things and left the girls a note: Things ended badly with Finn. I’m going home. Sorry, Anna.
I checked on Monica, but she was sleeping, so I didn’t bother to wake her. I took one last look out the back window at the deep blue ocean and wondered if I would drown from the tears brimming in my eyes.
***
The girls called me when I got home. “What the hell happened?” Catherine asked.
I sniffed, my tears all cried out. “I found out that you guys were right. He’s a jerk who was only looking for the next hookup.”
“Oh, honey. I’m sorry. What did he do?” she asked.
“It doesn’t matter. I was stupid. I should’ve listened to you guys.”
Catherine was quiet for a moment. “Do you want us to come up and be with you?”
“No, absolutely not. Don’t let my mistake ruin your trip. Stay. We’ll catch up afterward.”
When I heard a car door slam in my driveway three hours later, I figured they’d ignored me and drove up anyway. But when I opened the door, I almost slammed it; Finn was standing there.
“Go away.” I tried to close the door, but he held it open.
“Anna, I don’t understand what happened. I stopped by and your friends tell me you took off because I was an ass? What did I do?”
I glared at him. “Think hard. You can’t remember your afternoon?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I cleaned up the yard, did some laundry.”
“And who was the brunette helping you?”
His face reddened. “You saw that?”
I stomped my foot. “Yes, I saw that. And I realized what a complete and utter fool I was to believe one word of your ‘Oh, I’m a changed man’ spiel.” I thought about spitting for good effect, but my mouth was dry. And I’m not exactly a spitting kind of girl.
His shoulders slumped. “Can I please come in and explain?”
I turned up my hands. “What’s to explain?”
“A lot. It’s not what you think.”
I rolled my eyes, but I stepped aside. This is going to be good, I thought.
He reached for my arm but I jerked it away. He sat on the couch and I plopped down in the chair across from him.
Rubbing the back of his neck, he sighed. “Remember how I told you we lost one of our guys in a fire?”
“Yes, the cornerstone of your reformation.”
He frowned. “The woman you saw was my buddy’s widow.”
I swallowed hard. “And you hooked up with her?” It was worse than I thought.
He groaned, sounding totally frustrated. “No. She’s confused and lonely. I’d invited her and her son to spend some time at my parent’s place at the beach this summer. She just showed up—by herself—and she made a move on me.” He dropped his gaze to the floor. “I think she’s just trying to find someone to fill Danny’s role, and figured I was a good candidate.”
I could feel the blood drain from my face. “It looked like you were kissing her.”
He shook his head. “I was hugging her, trying to comfort her, and she tried to kiss me.” He grimaced. “That’s not the easiest scenario to disentangle from. I didn’t kiss her back, but I didn’t want to humiliate her, either, and make a big scene.”
God, I’m the shit. I let out a long breath. “I’m sorry. I just thought…”
He came over to me and squatted next to my chair. “I know why you thought what you thought. I’ve got a history of using women.” He shrugged. “Of course you thought I’d done it again.” He reached for my hand. “But I was serious when I said I want more than that. I want you, Anna. Only you. Are we going to be able to figure this out? Because if you can’t trust me, it’s just not going to work.”
I looked beyond the gorgeous eyes, the killer body, and heart-melting smile. I saw a man wanting something more in his life, trying his best to put his randy past behind him. I reached for his hand. “Can you forgive me for jumping to conclusions?”
He pulled me from the chair and gathered me in his arms. “Of course.”
“So, where are you headed now? Your place in Quincy?”
He shook his head. “Back to the beach. I didn’t close up the house. I drove straight here once I found out you’d gone home. I had a damn hard time getting your address from your friends.”
“They’re protective. They didn’t believe me when I said you changed.”
He nodded. “Understandable. I deserve it. But I’m glad you have such good friends who care about you.”
“If you’re headed back to the beach I should probably go, too, so I can show them everything worked out.”
***
The girls were on the back patio drinking wine when Finn and I walked up.
They looked at us skeptically, probably wondering how Finn had finagled his way out of whatever he’d done. Then I told them the story.
“Huh, who’d have guessed it? Finn Donahue is a one-woman man,” Brooke said.
“It’s like Jerry Maguire,” Monica said with a satisfied sigh.
“Not exactly. I definitely did not have her at hello. She was ready to slam the door in my face,” Finn said.
Catherine patted my hand. “That’s my girl.”
After a glass of wine I stood up and grabbed Finn’s hand. “I’ll see you guys in the morning.”
Finn put his arm around me. “You’ve got one more day with your friends. Enjoy it together. And then when you get home, you’re all mine.” He kissed my cheek and disappeared into the dark.
The girls collapsed into a chorus of awwws. And then plans were made for a night on the town.
***
We spent the last day of our vacation much like the first: reading magazines, drinking fruity cocktails, and watching boys on the beach.
“We’ve got a solid nine headed our ways, ladies,” Catherine announced.
I nudged her with my knee. “No, he’s a ten for sure.”
Brooke sat up and took off her glasses. “Is that Finn Donahue?” That brought on a round of laughter.
“Well, at least now we’ve all hooked up with him,” Monica mumbled.
I tossed my book at her as Finn walked over and sat next to me. “Don’t I know you?” I said.
“Not well enough. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
The girls sighed and then Monica dropped her drink. “Forget Finn Donahue. You know who just walked by? Michael Sullivan, the actor. That really was him.”
And the girls were up and out of their beach chairs chasing down the other heartthrob from their high school days.
“Don’t you want to go see?” Finn asked.
“Not when I’m sitting next to Finn Donahue.”
He laughed and kissed me. “I’m glad your mother didn’t let you come to one of my parties. I might have kissed you back then when I was an ass and ruined everything.”
I linked my hand in his. “You were worth waiting for. Now back to that discussion about sirens and making me scream.”
But Brooke was the one who squealed. “I found the other Manolo!”