Chapter Seven

 

“Is that my sister-cousin?”

Bronte watched Tasha Finn stroll toward her, two coffees in her hand and a clinging dress that caressed her generous curves. She was oblivious to the whiplash she was giving a few of the male patrons heading in to the Daily Grind, all her attention focused on Bronte’s reaction to her dress.

It was covered in shamrocks.

“You are an evil woman,” Bronte laughed helplessly, shaking her head. “Did you come here to torture me?”

“Did you think I would miss this? It’s my first undercover operation since I had the boys.”

Bronte lowered her voice, as if sharing a secret. “You bake cookies.”

“Hah. Remind me to tell you how Stephen and I finally got together sometime.” Tasha pointed at a nearby table with her elbow before handing Bronte one of the to-go cups. “We should sit out here for privacy. And because the second I asked for a latte sans shamrock, the poor child taking the order almost passed out.”

Bronte eyed the door with disbelief. “Should I go in and apologize again?”

Tasha grinned and sat down. “Don’t worry about her, let’s talk about you. You’re glowing. The word incandescent springs to mind. What has William done to you and how many times? Tell me everything, princess.”

If she was going to tell her anything, which she wasn’t, where could she possibly begin?

Had it only been one day? So much had changed. She’d hardly recognized herself when she looked in the mirror this morning. She was glowing.

She was happy.

Sex was a small, three-letter word that didn’t begin to cover what William Finn had done to her body. He’d done more than claim it, he’d released a floodgate of need inside her that showed no signs of letting up.

The way he saw her. Watched her. She wasn’t the plain Wayne to William. Dependable, obedient, boring Bronte.

She was irresistible. Exciting. Everything she said was worth listening to. Everything she did worthy of notice. She wasn’t used to that kind of focus. Had anyone ever seen her the way he seemed to? Had anything ever felt this right?

“Earth to Bronte.”

“Right. Sorry.” She sipped her coffee, gathering her thoughts. “We went out last night. To Pat’s. It was good. They were nice.”

“It was good. They were nice,” Tasha repeated, looking at her like she was the queen of every understatement ever created. “It was good? Taking your heels off after a party is good, Bronte. Finding a quarter in your couch is good.”

She shook her head. “Austen told me you were a vault, but I didn’t believe her. What if we compare notes? I’ll tell you all about my Finn if you tell me about yours. Stephen has this one spot behind his left—”

“Stop,” Bronte laughed, holding up her hand. “I do not need to know about my favorite senator’s sex life.”

“Come on,” she wheedled. “What I can offer is shocking enough that anything you tell me about William will sound G-rated.”

Bronte wasn’t so sure about that, she thought, remembering his aggression, his endless stamina. Lord, had Bubbles been right about his stamina. And the way he plugged in to all her deepest fantasies and secret desires…

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell Tasha how she was feeling, but how insane would it be to admit out loud that she’d fallen in love with her husband?

“That’s a tempting offer,” she said, smiling into her cup. “But I’m going to have to pass.”

“Good call,” a man’s voice said behind her.

Bronte looked up in relief. “Mr. Tanaka.”

The stunning man with skin like caramel and black hair that hung in a long, shining braid down his back sighed patiently as he sat down. “I believe I’ve told you to call me Ken several times now, Bronte.”

Her cheeks warmed. There was something about him that, despite his kindness, made her feel oddly formal.

Tasha licked a dollop of whipped cream off her finger with a wink. “I know that look. Don’t sweat it, Bronte. It’s the rope master vibe. Some people are more sensitive to it than others. Brady definitely is. I wonder if we should get him to give a free lesson to your young buck of a husband. But maybe William already knows what to do. I have no idea, since you won’t tell me.”

Ken sent Tasha a quelling look. “I didn’t leave my fiancé’s bed to gossip with the girls. And let’s not make Bronte uncomfortable. Not everyone wants to hear about other people’s personal proclivities.”

Bronte glanced around, surprised Brady Finn wasn’t holding up a nearby wall. She’d never seen Ken without the giant ginger at his side. She wondered where he was.

“It’s fine,” she said, though she was now imagining him using rope on his big brute of a boyfriend. “But you’re right, we should focus on solving my thug problem.”

Ken pushed his coffee to the side, tapping rapidly on his phone. “It’s solved. Well, for the most part.”

“It is?” Bronte couldn’t keep the skepticism from her voice. “You already know who it is? How?”

“I do this for a living,” he replied without looking up from his phone. “I know everything about him. What he makes, where he lives. He went to the corner store this morning for beer and donuts. When he isn’t threatening people for his boss, his daily routine is about as exciting as drying paint.”

“That’s illegal right?” Bronte expected to see the police descending at any moment. “I mean, how do you know all that?”

Tasha patted her hand. “I told you he had skills, hon. Anyway, he wouldn’t have gone so deep if that asshole hadn’t decided to mess with our family.”

“I’m n—” She nodded bracingly, her hands flat on the table. “Okay, so you know who he is. How worried should I be? Should William be?”

“You shouldn’t be worried at all. Kevin—that’s his real name—isn’t the brain of any operation. He’s the muscle. He’s not even all that good at it from what I can tell.”

Bronte leaned closer. “Who’s the brain?”

“Mahoney. That one is connected by marriage to William’s old boss, but they’re not all that close. Mahoney wanted to talk to William so he tapped Kevin, the laziest criminal in the world. With your husband out of town and all those pesky relatives in law enforcement, Kevin needed a safer, easier way to find his missing person. He chose you.”

Tasha frowned at that. “So this wasn’t about delivering a message. You think he used her to find William?”

Ken merely raised his eyebrows. “We’re taking care of it.”

We? “What does he want with William?”

He glanced at her, and she thought she detected a glimmer of discomfort. “You need to ask him about that, Bronte.”

“But you know.”

“I know.”

“Did you know before you sent him to Baltimore?”

He blinked at her in surprise. “I did.”

“I knew you were hiding something,” Tasha said angrily. “Did he pass the test, yet?”

Bronte glanced between them sharply. “What do you mean, test? I thought you were using your connections to help him stay in the country. That we hadn’t gotten an annulment because we were waiting for that to go through. Are you the reason it hasn’t happened yet?”

“I wasn’t testing him, I was protecting him,” Ken assured them both through clenched teeth. “Getting him away from temptation. Giving him time away from everyone who, let’s be honest, knew enough of his past to expect him to fail. He was starting a new life. He needed time to figure out what direction it would take.”

“That sounds like a test to me.”

Bronte had to agree.

Ken’s temple was pulsing as he spoke to Tasha. “As much as we love the Finn men, you and I both know if he’d stayed while tempers were high, they would have blamed him for taking advantage of Bronte. Their marriage would have been annulled before the next sunrise, William would have gotten pissed, disappeared and been forced to deal with this current situation on his own. I don’t think anyone at this table would have been happy with that outcome.”

He was right. About all of it.

Damn it.

Her family and the Finns would have closed ranks to protect her, because he hadn’t told them about her dare. He’d let them think it was all his idea. Just to protect her.

Even then, he’d been trying to take care of her.

She took a breath. “One thing at a time. Is William in danger because of me? Should he get out of Baltimore?”

Ken shook his head. “I would never have sent him here if I thought he or the Collins family would be in any danger. We’ve been taking care of it. I didn’t expect Kevin to screw everything up and send you racing out here without any warning, but even that looks like it can work to our advantage.”

“Okay.” She nodded. “Okay, then I’ll just go tell him about stupid, lazy, bad-at-his-job Kevin so we can get this insanity resolved and finally move on.”

“Move on?” Ken studied her quietly until she shifted under the scrutiny. “Have you decided to divorce him?”

No. The rejection was so vehement she had to bite her tongue to keep from shouting it out loud. “I think that’s between William and me.”

A few months ago, “Of course” would have been her answer. Because she couldn’t stay married to someone who would only be in his forties when she hit retirement. She couldn’t live with a man she married on a drunken lark. Build a future with him. A family. No one made that kind of decision after one night of sexual oblivion.

She looked up in time to see Tasha and Ken share a speaking look, getting the distinct impression both of them knew exactly what she was thinking.

“I should go.” She pushed her chair back and got to her feet, Ken standing beside her.

“Bronte.” He hesitated. “Brady and I… Well, let’s just say we had our own issues to overcome. And some crime,” he added with the barest hint of a smile. “Maybe that’s why I wanted to help William. No matter what he’s done or what he thinks of himself, he’s no hardened criminal. I think you know that, too.”

“I do.”

Ken nodded, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “We’ve got a room for tonight and I’ll be dealing with the situation. You don’t need to worry, Bronte. We have it under control. If you need us for anything, we’ll be nearby.”

She included Tasha in her look and forced herself to smile. “Thanks.”

“We’re sister-cousins, remember? I’m here for you.”

Bronte chuckled. “You have a serious case of only child.”

“I really do. Thank goodness the twins have each other, and people with large families keep marrying Finns.”

Tasha stood up and tugged her close for a tight hug. “Advice time. Are you ready?”

“Hit me.”

“Men are strange creatures that rarely make sense. If he gets weird after you tell him about your visitor, remember that it’s pride. Wounded male pride. And the best thing you can do to stop him from pushing you away when that happens…is to take off your shirt.”

Ken snorted, but he didn’t disagree. “I’d argue with the strange creature bit, but sex is a good subject changer.”

“That is horrible advice. Shame on both of you. You can’t just run around telling people to flash a little skin at their problems. Poor George and Charlotte, that’s all I have to say.”

“I thought their names were Huck and Ned,” Ken teased.

“Oh stop it. And these are pearls of wisdom, princess. The same pearls I heard you gave to Hugo.”

Bronte waved her words away and started walking, looking up the directions to the boxing club on her phone.

It was time to tell William what she knew.

And possibly take her shirt off.