Please, Libby … don’t push me away …
Both his pulse and time stood still while he awaited her answer, forgetting to breathe as he watched roiling clouds of uncertainty deepen the green of her eyes. Then in a flick of her gaze to his lips and back, he sensed her consent, and tucking an arm to her waist, he slowly drew her onto his bale, closing the distance to caress her lips with his own. A lifetime of craving this girl flashed through his body like a desert heat wave, and swallowing a low groan, he molded his mouth to hers with an ache so real, he knew she was the only cure. “Libby,” he whispered, pulling away to cradle her head in his hands, “I have feelings for you that go way beyond friendship or festivals, so please tell me we can start over and see where this goes.”
She blinked several times, almost as if to clear the haze from her eyes, and his heart screeched to a stop. But when he saw the sweet curve of her beautiful mouth, his pulse took off in a sprint, unleashing a grin on his face he swore stretched ear to ear. “Please tell me that’s a yes, Miss O’Shea, because if not, I’ll have to resign as co-chair since keeping my distance will be impossible to do.”
She nibbled the edge of her lips with an innocent smile, and it took everything in him not to join her, nibbling and tasting that mouth that forever invaded his thoughts. Her eyes fairly glowed as she gave him a brief nod, and there was no way he could stop the hoarse moan that scraped past his throat when he kissed her again. Sweet thunder, he was barely able to believe that he and Liberty O’Shea were on speaking terms, much less kissing like this, the heady taste of her all but melting his spurs.
Like you and Jo Beth?
Finn froze, the warmth of Libby’s body against his sending an avalanche of guilt sliding right down his back, icier than the Sierras in a Nevada snowstorm. Another groan rose in his throat, but this one was because he knew he had no business taking liberties with Libby. Not when he’d been seeing mainly Jo Beth, no matter how casually or infrequent, giving into Milo’s relentless prodding that Finn needed some fun in his life. True, Jo Beth wasn’t the only girl he spent time with, but as Milo’s girlfriend’s best friend, she was the one Finn saw and liked the most.
And kissed the most?
Finn winced inwardly at the prick of his conscience. Innocent kisses with Jo Beth or any other girl had never bothered him before, but suddenly kissing Libby made them seem downright wrong. Because Libby deserved better. Shame warmed the back of his neck.
And so did Jo Beth.
He’d always prided himself on steering clear of marriage, making good and sure women knew he had no intention of courting till his land was paid off and his homestead built and settled. But looking at Libby right now—half-lidded eyes, swollen mouth, and shallow breathing from parted lips that were calling him home—he knew his days of bachelorhood were about to be cut off at the pass. With a gentle grip of her arms, he held her at bay, painfully aware that she deserved far more than a man who flirted and kissed other women, and by the grace of God, he would give it to her.
Fidelity. Marriage. And babies galore ...
But first he needed to end it with Jo Beth, then give it some time to ease Jo’s ruffled feathers.
And pay off your loan?
Finn’s jaw tightened along with his conscience, wishing he’d broken it off with Jo Beth like he’d wanted to when rumors started to fly that he was her beau. And he would have if Milo hadn’t badgered him into seeing Jo Beth more often so the four of them could be “friends” who were social together and just had a little fun.
Finn stifled a grunt. A “little fun,” right. Only “friends” didn’t tempt and tease with kisses like Jo Beth always did, no matter how many times he told her he had no plans to get married. But he was a man, for pity’s sake, and one used to enjoying the affections of women before the Poppys had convinced him to curb his ways. And now he’d boxed himself in but good, putting so many things at risk.
Jo Beth.
Her father.
A loan that was almost paid off.
And Liberty …
A knot of conviction hitched in his throat. “Libby,” he whispered, cupping her face while his thumbs glided the soft silk of her skin, “please forgive me for taking advantage of the way I feel about you, all alone up here in this loft. But I never dreamed I’d ever have a chance with you, Libs, so I guess I kind of”—he scrubbed the back of his neck with an awkward grin quickly tempered by guilt—“got carried away. But now that I know you feel the same way, I’d like to take it real slow to ward off any speculation about your reputation or mine, as co-chairs of a committee smack dab in the public eye.” He battled a gulp, downright impressed with his willpower to not devour her all over again. “Do you … understand?”
She blinked several times as if she didn’t while that creamy throat convulsed with a nervous bob, and he wished more than anything he could just kiss all her hesitation away. But he owed her more than kisses.
He owed her the truth.
Or at least most of it.
A tiny crimp appeared above her nose. “I’m not exactly sure what you mean by ‘real slow,’ Finn …”
He skimmed a hand down that silky copper hair he’d longed to touch for too many years, fingers tingling like his heart for this girl he so wanted to make his own. “What I mean, Libby, is as co-chairs, I think we have a responsibility to be professional. And trust me, Miss O’Shea,” he said with a crooked smile he hoped would help diminish the confusion in her eyes, “my feelings for you are anything but.”
A silent sigh of relief leached out when a soft blush bloomed on her face, tipping that glorious mouth into the sweetest of smiles. “That said,” he continued in what he hoped was a more “professional” tone, “I’d like to wait until a little while after the festival to start seeing you publicly if that’s all right.”
“All … right,” she said in a near whisper, the flick of her gaze to his mouth all but giving him heatstroke. “But does that mean privately too?” Her teeth nipped at those pink lips like he so longed to do while her shy smile pumped more blood through his veins.
With a gruff clear of his throat, he quickly lifted her at the waist and plopped her safely on her own bale of hay, pretty darn sure that if he didn’t distance himself right now, he’d be in a whole heap of trouble. “Libby, there’s something I need to tell you.” He shot to his feet and started pacing, gouging the hair at the back of his head. “Before we walked into this barn, I had absolutely no hope whatsoever that my long-held dream of courting you was even a remote possibility, so when we”—his Adam’s apple jerked hard as he halted to face her head-on—“kissed just now, well I … I shouldn’t have, and I’m sorry.”
She rose and took a step forward, the affection in her eyes warming him to the core. “I’m not. I’ve felt the same way about you forever, Finn, so I’m glad the truth has finally come out.”
The truth.
“Libby …” Clearing his throat again, he retreated another step. “There’s something else you need to know.” He plunged his hands in his pockets, ill at ease for the first time ever with a girl. “As you know, I’ve been seeing Jo Beth here and there …”
“Here and there?” A tiny pucker popped above her nose. “Are you … courting her, Finn?”
Heat singed his collar when he thought of all the kisses he and Jo Beth had shared, something most women tended to construe as commitment. Particularly when she was the one he stepped out with the most. “No, no … nothing like that,” he was quick to respond, a niggle of concern that both Jo Beth and her father might see it differently. “I mean I like her, I do, but it’s just that we’ve gone out a lot because of Milo, since she’s Bettie’s best friend and all, so some folks have assumed we’re a couple.” He coughed. Especially Jo Beth and her parents. “So what I’m saying is I’d like a chance to spare her feelings if I can.” He buried his fists in his pockets once again with an awkward lift of his shoulders. “You know, give it some time for things to cool off before you and I start seeing each other that way, just to let her down easy.”
She blinked, those green eyes softening to the color of new buds in early May. “I think that’s very noble, Finn,” she said quietly, the glow of admiration in her gaze making him feel the farthest thing from noble.
He swallowed a gulp, throat dry as dust. “Yeah, well, the thing is, Libs, I sorta promised I’d help Jo Beth celebrate her birthday on the day of the festival, if you know what I mean …”
She blinked again, her expression indicating she didn’t.
He clawed at the back of his head, sucking in more air to try and make it perfectly clear. “So I don’t feel right breaking it off before then, which means it could be a while before you and I can, you know”—he wagged a finger between them—“step out together for all the town to see. So is that”—his Adam’s apple did another jog—“acceptable to you?”
“More than acceptable, Finn,” she said far too quickly for his ego. “Whatever you need to do is perfectly fine with me, truly, so please take your time.”
Take my time? It was Finn’s turn to blink. She doesn’t mind? Not even a little? “Uh … all right, if you’re sure you won’t be jealous or anything—”
She was shaking her head before he could even finish the sentence. “Absolutely not,” she assured him with a bright smile. “Not even a little.”
“Good … good.” He plunged his hands back in his pockets, not all that sure it was good, at least not with a girl who’d seldom shown an iota of interest till today. It was his experience that if a girl truly cared, she’d be green-eyed over any other woman. Shaking off a sliver of hurt, Finn expelled a noisy sigh. “All righty, then, Libs. Let’s promise to keep this just between you and me till then. And I mean nobody else can know—not Kitty or Martha, Milo, or even Mr. and Mrs. Poppy, agreed?”
“I think that would be wise,” she said with a lift of her chin. “For Jo Beth’s sake.”
Yeah. He tugged at his collar, desperate for more air. And it wouldn’t hurt my loan either. Forcing a lopsided smile, he needed to make good and sure she understood he’d be treating her no differently than in the past in order to avoid any speculation about the two of them. Ignoring the uncomfortable feeling in his chest, he held out his arm, one edge of his smile jagging high. “Which means we’ll revert to our prior enmity in public, Miss Bell, just to make good and sure nobody suspects a thing, agreed?”
“I suppose that would be best,” she said slowly, the tiniest of puckers at the bridge of her nose, “but in private, I’d like to get to know each other better, Finn, if that’s agreeable?”
He stared, pausing several seconds before slowly cupping her face in his hands, gently skimming her jaw with his thumbs. “More than agreeable,” he whispered, wondering how on earth he was going to take it slow when his heart was crashing full speed ahead. He managed a crooked smile. “In fact, it might be a good idea to show up at our weekly meetings an hour earlier or so than usual. You know, just to go over things in private before everyone else arrives?”
A slow grin bloomed on her beautiful face. “I think that’s an excellent idea, Mr. McShane,” she said with a slow nod, green eyes sparkling as she allowed him to usher her to the ladder.
“Good.” Relief breezed past his lips as he climbed down several slats, one arm extended to help her on down. “And I do believe I’m ready for something cool to drink, Libs, how ’bout you?”
“Absolutely parched, Finn, and surprisingly, a bit hungry too.”
“Oh, yes, ma’am,” he said, guiding her down rung by rung, her body so close, he battled hunger pains of a whole ’nother kind.
You might say—downright starved.