From Winter's Ashes: Girl Next Door Crime Romance Series - Book Two (6 page)

“Tell me something. Is it your curiosity that’s driving this slander?” He raised a devilish eyebrow.

Heat strangled her neck. “No!”

“You’re trying to invent a flaw because you can’t find one?” He took a step closer.

She felt her ears warm beneath the cool drape of her hair. “Pfff! As if—”

“Good. Because as much as I’d like to set the record straight, I am not putting out on the first date.” He smirked, laugh lines forming at the corners of his eyes.

It all felt a lot like flirting. But it couldn’t be. Not with their track record.

“But for Pete’s sake, could you put some clothes on? I may not be able to stand your particular breed of snooty princess, but a man can only take so much of you parading that hot little body around. It’s starting to mess with my head.” He averted his eyes again, and Joselyn felt the blood drain from her face.

And then she looked down.
Oh bloody hell.
The ultra-lightweight jersey knit of the short robe was plastered like cellophane to her damp skin. There was no mooning this time, but the scuffle had loosened the tie at her waist making each lapel of white fabric meet to create a plunging neckline worthy of a Hollywood starlet. Joselyn stared at the rather graphic display of her modest curves, mouth gaping and mortified for a beat too long before self-preservation kicked in gear and had her running for her room.

“How does that keep happening? And with
him
, of all people!” She fell back onto the bed, not sure she could ever show her face to him again.

“I can hear you, you know?”

As his voice bounded down the hall, she winced, pressed a pillow over her head, and considered hiding under the covers for the remainder of the evening. It only took a second to decide that that tactic would only fuel his antagonism, so she threw on a pair of black yoga pants and a time-softened white and green baseball tee, courtesy of Sadie. After tossing her straight damp hair with her fingers, Joselyn closed her eyes, absorbing every ounce of composure she could muster, before making her way back out to Finn.

The nerves she’d fought to wrangle came flooding back through her stomach the moment his eyes touched her. She was completely covered from neck to toe, but his gaze seemed to strip away every ounce of confidence, leaving her feeling naked all over again. “Umm, so, you never did mention why you came over.”

“Well … Archer has had this thing planned for a while, and I wanted to make sure it still went off without a hitch. I figured Sadie would pull out because of what happened. That’s why I held off telling her about you being in the hospital.”

“I see. Well, she tried to stay. I wouldn’t let her.” She found herself incessantly tugging at the bottom of the shirt.

Finn smirked knowingly like the arrogant jerk he was. “Maybe we should sit. Gonna be a long night if we don’t.”

“Gonna be a long night either way,” she mumbled.

He coughed up a laugh as he settled next to her on the couch.

Joselyn leaned back into the soft canvas cushions, gathering her knees to her chest to put a barrier between them. “Give a girl some space, would you? And maybe tone it down a bit on the aftershave, Romeo. Stuff’s kind of nauseating.” In reality, his warmth and nearness were both more potent than the fresh spicy scent currently hot-wiring her salivary glands. And it was only nauseating because she wanted to purge herself of her body’s absurd responses to a man who was, for all intents and purposes, her nemesis.

Said nemesis smiled, revealing heartbreaking dimples in each cheek. She’d forgotten about those.

Why does it feel like he’s in my head?

“You’re gonna fall so hard.” It seemed he found his own vanity amusing.

“Oh, for—now I really am gonna be sick.”

“Ha! Settle down, Snow Whyte, I was only teasing. But—”

“Don’t call me that!” She snapped.

He held up his hands in surrender. “I was going to say we need to work on looking more comfortable together. As it is now, even our body language says we’re both contemplating strangling each other. Pasting a phony smile over it won’t fool anybody. Least of all, the media. Who, we all know, have an unhealthy fascination with you, for some unknown reason.”

They weren’t touching, but the inch between his muscular thigh and her frozen toes wasn’t enough to slow her pulse. But as his words sunk in, it all clicked back into place.

“Ahh, he got to you. Didn’t he?”

“What do you mean?” Finn stretched his arm on the back on the couch behind her head, sweeping her hair off where his hand came to rest on the cushion.

Brain cells scattered then quickly reassembled. “Declan Whyte’s noble plan of action. He reeled you in. You’re a goner. I can see it in your eyes.”

Eyes that strayed in denial. “No. I simply listened to what he had to say. He seems concerned about you, and he has the experience to know how to handle this. To keep you safe.”

“You realize you sounded exactly like him right then. Did he coach you? Give you cue cards? Talk about falling. Wow.” She let her dismay leak out in a slow, patronizing shake of her head. “I was gonna give you more credit than that. But oh how the mighty have fallen.”

“Whatever. The way I see it, I’m doing you a favor.” He let that settle for a moment, then his eyes narrowed. “You’re going to have to stop it with those sour faces. From this point on I’m your dreamboat. The wind beneath your wings. And don’t forget, your ‘knight in shining turnouts.’ For our first exercise in civility, you may spend the remainder of the evening gazing at me adoringly, for practice. Don’t worry, it’ll come naturally soon enough.” He winked.

Joselyn indelicately snorted her disgust. That strangling idea sounded better by the minute.

“It’s either that or we snuggle and watch the rest of the
Die Hard
marathon?” He leaned in closer and wagged his eyebrows.

“And what’s behind door number three?” She fired back. “The other options seem like cruel and unusual punishment for a traumatized woman.”

“Hmm … option three, we make out on the couch until Sadie and Archer get home.”

Joselyn felt her jaw dislodge. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Finn licked his lips, leaning in until their noses almost touched. “Try me.”

Nuh-uh. Nope. Not happening. And as exhausted as she was, she knew she had to remain fully alert. No letting her guard down. She yawned. No way. Not for a single second.

“Mommy, daddy? Please wake up. Pretty please. I’m scared.”
She pleaded again. Her voice a broken little wisp of desperation.

After the violent shriek of the tires and deafening roar of twisting steel all had fallen silent. Her screams had faded to intermittent hiccups and sniffles. The eerie hush of the falling rain like a blanket of white noise smothering the wreckage. Minutes or hours might have passed as her small body, suspended inches from the crushed roof of the car, wriggled against the cutting pressure of the seat belt.

Then a groaning sound. A snippet of hope that her parents had survived. She whimpered, fresh tears dripping in the already frozen tear tracks down her forehead. Never had a sweeter sound graced Joselyn’s ears than when her father’s gruff accent assured her she wasn’t alone.

“Charisma? … Joselyn?”

“Daddy. Oh, Daddy, I’m here. I’m—I’m scared.” She shivered hard, trembling uncontrollably from the cold that had long ago soaked through her winter coat.

Her father didn’t assure her everything would be all right. Somehow she knew nothing would ever be all right again.

Within moments he’d snaked his body through the hole of the driver’s side window and crawled to the opening behind him. His trembling hands released the seatbelt and braced her dangling body’s impact with the roof of the mangled car. Small shards of crumbled glass ground into her scalp as he wrestled her through the jagged window opening.

And then he held her tight, treasuring her survival for a fleeting moment as the rain turned to pelting hail, crashing down to earth, striking without mercy. Pungent vapors invaded the security she felt in his arms, singed her nostrils with each whimpering breath.

He pulled her back to look at her. His eyes sharp and assessing even as tears escaped his blue eyes to mix with the smears of blood on his handsome face. She realized she’d never seen him cry. And wished she never would again.

But with one blink the tears turned to panic as he looked toward the dangling electrical wires by the front of their upturned family sedan. A spark spit from the end.

Ripping her to her feet, he shoved her away. “Run, Joselyn! Do you understand me? Stop crying and run!”

Like everything else, her blood turned to ice. Inconsolable sobs racked her skinny body. She reached for him, desperate for comfort, for assurance from the fear that was so paralyzing. After those long lonely moments in the car, the thought of running off alone was more terrifying than anything else she could imagine. Her father screamed and shoved her again before he limped around to the passenger side that had received the brunt of the destruction.

After a beat of hesitation she followed him, keeping a safe distance. Her father’s footprints marred a deep red goo spreading on the icy ground.

She watched in a trance. His strong arms warred against the weight of the car; sobs and cursing marked the strange silence of the storm. He looked up again when a strong gust sent the wires flailing on the wind. “Joselyn, run!”

The anguish and terror in her father’s voice jolted her into action. She ran.

Hissss …

But the sound made her stop and turn around.

“BOOM!” A flash of heat and light erupted. Invisible arms gripped her and threw her to the ground, her back landing in perplexing pillowy softness against the frozen road. A burst of fire exploded above, propelling a river of flames an inch from her face.

As if seeing it from underneath protective glass, she felt nothing. Nothing but the resounding certainty that she’d just lost everything she loved.

Chapter 8

Finn Carson

You asked for it.

Finn was trapped. Over the course of the evening he’d taunted Joselyn, gambling with her obvious disdain for him, knowing it was a sure thing. He never imagined she’d fold.

But he’d miscalculated. And now he was trapped. Literally ensnared in Joselyn’s web when she’d fallen asleep, nestled under his arm.

Okay. So, it didn’t start out that way.

It started when she’d relented and picked option number two. The snuggling,
Die Hard
option. Only, it wasn’t much like snuggling. More, Joselyn jabbing her elbow into his side as she leaned into him about an inch. Maybe that was what the ice princess deemed snuggling, and it was fine by him because he’d only been slightly serious about the options he’d presented. After all, if they had a prayer of pulling this thing off they needed to work on their believability. But now …

He looked down at Joselyn. His arm was draped around the back of the couch. Her bony shoulder and elbow had been the only points of contact during
Die Hard 2
. But then she went and fell asleep, and in doing so, she folded into him. Her head finding its way to the front of his shoulder, eyes fluttering gently with each steady breath.

It seemed harmless enough until she resettled and nuzzled closer. Her slender hand drew up and came to rest on his chest. One long, slender leg hooked around his thighs, making every inch of him from neck to knee her body pillow.

Something sparked along his nerve path. A sort of tingling awareness radiated from the cool touch of her spread palm. And it wasn’t the first time he’d felt it.

When she’d helped him off the ground he couldn’t seem to let go of her hand. It was as if a thousand volts zapped it in place.

And let’s not forget her seductive performance at the hospital and the brain-scrambling effect it had on him.

No, let’s.

He’d written it off as a fluke. Now, he was less sure.

When he attempted to wriggle loose she clamped on tighter. So he tried to find something else to watch. Tried to think of anything but the feel of her magnificent body wrapped around his. But every time he touched her, liquid fire squirmed beneath his skin. It was … disturbing. Wrong. And it didn’t make any sense.

He hated Joselyn. Feeling something for her would only further break what was already broken. The past couldn’t be undone, which meant they didn’t stand a chance.

Besides, Sadie was the real reason he’d volunteered for this ridiculous charade. Tonight was an important step. It took real courage to believe in second chances, and Finn would do anything, including snuggling up with the enemy, if it meant protecting his sister from any more heartache.

And, yeah, maybe he had something to prove to himself too. Maybe that’s why he’d volunteered. If he could keep this little nightmare safe, perhaps he’d quiet his too. But he had to stay focused, alert, tuned into every threat, every inconsequential detail. He wouldn’t fail at this. It was time to reclaim himself.

But even with that thought in his head, his eyes grew heavy, his head dipped, and something sweet filled his lungs. What was that? She smelled like … Christmas. For some hideous reason it drew him and he was the helpless passenger of a drive-by sniffing. Bending his neck, his mouth made contact with the silky softness of her lustrous hair. Mmm. He hummed under his breath. The aromatic blend of sugar and peppermint seduced his higher functioning until he was incapable of doing any more thinking.

And ironically, the last rational thought he recalled traipsing through his mind was that thinking was overrated.

Something thrashed against his chest, startling him from a rare, peaceful sleep. His eyes jolted open to find … Joselyn. On top of him. Her face pressed against his neck, fingers twisting the sides of his shirt, hips unnervingly aligned, and her whole body convulsing with hysterical tremors.

Taking more stock of the situation he noticed that their legs were tangled together and both of his arms were fastened around her, holding her tight.

Why were they on the couch together? And what was wrong with her? He removed his traitorous arms from the object of his disdain, and a horrified scream rent from her throat. Without a thought, he surrounded her again, and she fell silent, pacified by his embrace but still whimpering against his damp neck.

“Joss, wake up.” He shook her gently. “Joss.” He shook a little harder.

A deep gasp filled her lungs. For excruciatingly long moments she clung to him, burrowing deeper, seeking refuge. A desperation in her touch as if she was holding on for her life. He felt the moment awareness took hold. A half a second later she’d shoved off of him and scrambled to the other side of the couch. But then he saw her. Really saw her.

Tears bled down her face, refilled and magnified the terrified look in her eyes—a look that would haunt him as long as he lived.

“Joss, it’s okay.” But it wasn’t okay. He felt the same terror he’d seen on her face every time he woke from his nightmares. Yes, life moved on. But the past was an abuser with an insatiable appetite for pain.

He touched her arm in comfort, but she jerked away and buried her face in her hands. Her muted sobs evidenced in the quivering of her shoulders.

And then, as if he’d imagined the whole thing, Snow Whyte returned. Her spine straightened. Elegant fingers delicately dusted away the tears from splotchy skin and her stricken expression wiped clean into a placid mask. “Sorry about that.” She sniffed.

“Uhh … Are you all right?”

Joselyn nodded, the lines of her face now smooth and serene. “I’m fine.” But despite her mannequin act her lip trembled. She bit down on it to squelch her tell.

It wasn’t at all funny, but Finn fought the urge to smile. Her façade was slipping. He’d caught a glimpse of vulnerability behind the screen of indifference.

Maybe Joselyn Whyte had a heart after all. 

Ahh. It was amazing what a decent night’s rest could do for his disposition. Finn rolled out of bed with a spring in his step, had a good morning wrestle with his pup, and then scrambled some eggs for breakfast, replaying the events of the night before in his mind.

Joselyn had retired to her room long before Sadie and Archer returned from their date. Since Finn was restless he utilized the downtime to prepare a lesson for the youth group kids he mentored—and to keep his mind off of other things.

Though emotionally the evening had run the gamut, he felt oddly rested. He’d only woken from his nightmares twice—a refreshing change of pace from the usual bihourly shock therapy. He couldn’t recall what he’d dreamt about after he’d collapsed into his bed at midnight, but he woke up feeling better than he had in months.

After taking the pup out to do his business, Finn showered and dressed in a plaid button up shirt in shades of blue and gray, dark blue jeans, and gray Converse, taking a few more moments to peruse his lesson plan. The scriptures noted were hard-hitting, and he swallowed back a derisive laugh at the irony of the truths he’d planned to teach today.

Though he’d been raised by stern but warm parents, for many years he’d struggled with feelings of inadequacy. The middle child, Finn took second string to his talented, athletic, and good-looking older brother, Jay, in every arena. Their younger sister, Sadie, may not have become the frilly debutant his mother had tried to fashion, but she’d been insanely bright and driven and rule-abiding. So Finn, not having any particular niche or talent, had honed and perfected his bluff early on, wielding confidence like a shield to cover nearly desperate longings to earn acceptance. To be more than merely adequate and overlooked. And to maybe, for once in his life, be chosen first.

So yeah, maybe he was still there trying to prove himself, but he wanted to protect these kids against the burden of expectations. The constant shame of trying to earn grace and favor that were instead freely given yet still so difficult to grasp. Helping them find acceptance nibbled away at the load of guilt he now carried—tremendous, suffocating guilt that wasn’t meant for his shoulders, but both weighed him down and circled overhead like a vulture, ready to devour the crumbling remnants of his faith.

Obviously the lesson was as much for him as it was for the kids. Hopefully they’d do a better job applying it to their lives. Because the Monroe fire had burned more than an old house and the skin on his neck, it turned the last of his hope to ash. So he’d put his shields up and smile like he hadn’t a care in the world. A lesson he learned from Snow Whyte herself way back when. Fake it till you make it.

Oh yeah, he thought without a hint of mirth, he was one helluva role model.

After Finn and the teens wrapped up their small group meeting in the gymnasium, they shot some hoops and then Finn headed up to the sanctuary for the late church service.

The powerful swell of music was a tangible presence. He tried to cling to the promises painted so eloquently with lyrics, tried to absorb the words to fill up the barren and weak places still festering from old wounds, but the harder he tried to grab onto the truth he knew so well the more it seemed to slip through his fingers.

He scanned the crowded room until he found Archer towering over, well, everyone, and went to claim the seat next to Sadie.

“Where’s Joss?” Finn whispered when the room quieted. He was pretty sure Joselyn had never set foot in a church before, but he had assumed, for safety reasons, she’d be in attendance with them today.

“She had some stuff she needed to do this morning. I know she’s supposed to be with an escort, but she left before Archer picked me up. I did all but barricade the door.”

His heart beat a little faster. “You know where she went?”

Sadie nodded. “I did tell her that for the remainder of her stay she will be joining us for church. It is the safest place for her to be since we’re all going to be here anyways. She wasn’t too happy but promised she’d start coming next week.”

“So, where is she?” Finn crossed his ankle over his knee, his erratic foot giving away his sudden unease.

“Finn, she’s fine. And she’s entitled to have her secrets. If you wanna know, ask her. Maybe it will help sort out whatever this beef is between you two.”

“But—”

“Shh. The sermon is starting, and Francine Walters is giving you the stink eye.” Sadie squinted at him, then clenched the shoe that jittered near her leg, stopping the motion. “Would you relax? It’s not likely she’ll have a protective detail twenty-four seven. She’s safe where she’s at. Have a little faith, okay?”

Finn tugged his foot free, crossed his ankles, and slouched back into the seat, giving his best imitation of relaxation.

This was already harder than he’d thought. And with Joselyn Whyte, that was the one thing he could always count on.