Chapter 15

15

W hen Finley awoke early the next morning, she could tell Holden was already awake. He kissed her deeply, morning breath and all.

That's when she was certain she was meant to be with this man.

They made love again in a rush of heat this time. Where last night had been slow and incredibly steamy, a dance of passion and exploration, this morning was all about the driving need to consume one another. A frenzy of limbs and tongues. While Holden still took an extraordinary amount of time on foreplay, each scorching touch built until they exploded in one another's arms.

In the aftermath, she lay sprawled half atop him, one leg thrown over him, her arm possessively around his waist, needing to touch him.

And they talked. For an hour. Finley had never been around a man who she enjoyed talking with more than Holden. Her other sexual partners had either fallen asleep soon after they coupled or, in a morning situation, they were up and out of the bed, in the shower, then gone for the day. She liked that Holden didn't rush from the bed. That he held her tenderly, his hand absently stroking her back, talking about mundane things. Maybe it was the writer in him, that he was so comfortable conversing with someone because he wrote characters who conversed. Or possibly because he was so comfortable with who he was.

This was what she wanted.

She doubted they were on the same page, however. This was a man who had uprooted the life he'd lived for several years and left behind a woman. While Holden had assured Finley that she wasn't a rebound, she knew she couldn't begin creating a new narrative for them. Not until Holden had time to heal emotionally from his previous relationship. She didn't know if she should back away now and give him more space or continue to allow them to grow closer, both physically and emotionally.

Whatever she decided, she would not—under any circumstances— tell him that she loved him. That would be the kiss of death.

She did fear being hurt again, despite his reassurances, but she didn't believe Holden was leading her on. No man could fake what had occurred between them last night or this morning.

Deciding to test the waters a bit, she asked, "Would you consider coming to Sunday lunch at my parents tomorrow? We do it once a month."

Without hesitation, he said, "I would be honored to meet them and tell them what an incredible daughter they've raised."

His words filled her with warmth. "It wouldn't just be Mom and Dad," she warned. "My brother and his family would be there, too."

He took her chin in hand, raising it until their gazes met. "You trusted me enough to introduce me to your friend family. It would mean a lot to me to meet your blood family. What time is lunch?"

"Twelve thirty," she told him.

"Do I bring anything?"

Finley smiled. "Flowers worked with Harper. I think Mom would appreciate them, as well."

Holden ran his fingers through her hair, the touch light and sensual, causing her to want him again. "Maybe I shouldn't learn how to cook after all. It's way easier picking up a bouquet of flowers than making a dish. Speaking of, I'm starved. Would you like to go into town and grab some pancakes at Lone Star Diner?"

She arched her eyebrows. "You want me to turn up, in public, wearing the same bright red sweater I wore to the game last night? Talk about a walk of shame."

He laughed. "I forgot Lost Creek is a small town. Growing up in Austin was a little different. Would you like to go home and change clothes and meet me there?"

She had something else in mind for this morning. "No, I've got some things to do. You've got writing that needs to get done, young man."

Finley untangled herself from him and started to rise from the bed. He caught her wrist.

"When can I see you again?" he asked, hunger in his eyes.

"I'm working a wedding later today. I'll take pre-wedding pictures between three and five thirty. The wedding is at six, with the reception afterward. I probably won't be free until ten or so tonight."

He grew thoughtful a moment and then asked, "Could I come with you? Watch you in action? I'd like to see what you actually do."

"That would be fine with me. Honestly, I think you'll be bored, but I know Harper wouldn't mind. I dress to blend in. Evening weddings I wear a black pantsuit or a black or dark dress."

"I've got a dark suit I can wear. Since I can't come sit in your class and watch you teach, I'm glad you'll let me tag along this evening and see what your photographer world is like."

She leaned down and kissed him. "Get a lot of work done today. Maybe even take a nap—because I plan to keep you up late tonight, Mr. Scott."

"You'll come home with me after the wedding. And stay?"

"It's all I want to do," she admitted.

Finley quickly dressed and drove home. She wanted to talk to her mom about lunch tomorrow, but she didn't want to call her from the car. Even though Mom was always up early, she would wonder why Finley was calling before seven from her car. Once she pulled up in front of the house, she cut the engine and dialed her mom's cell number.

Dianne Farrow answered on the second ring. "Good morning, Honey. I see you're up early as always."

"I could say the same thing, Mom. I get my early birdness from you. Are you going to be around this morning? I thought I might stop by for a cup of coffee."

"I have the house to myself. Your dad has gone golfing with the mayor. In fact, he just left. Do you want to come for breakfast? If you leave now, I'll at least have the coffee made when you get here."

Knowing there was no way she could show up smelling like sex, Finley said, "Actually, I just out of bed. I'll need to hop in the shower. Could I come in an hour?"

"I'll have French toast and coffee ready."

"Sounds good, Mom. See you soon."

Finley unlocked the door and entered the house, hearing Emerson bustling about in the kitchen. She went to greet her roommate and before she could say a word, Emerson threw herself into Finley's arms, hugging her tightly.

"What is this about?" she asked.

Emerson released her and grinned. "I don't have to ask how last night went. You are glowing. I've known you ten years now, and I want it on the record— Holden Scott is the perfect guy for you."

She felt her cheeks heat. "So, you really like him?"

"We're all wild about Holden," Emerson assured her. "Yes, we've been texting furiously behind your back. Harper, Ivy, and me. We've never seen you look happier."

Sighing, she confessed, "I've never been this happy in my life, Emerson. I think I've kissed a lot of frogs in my time, but Holden is a prince of a guy." She hesitated and then revealed, "He's coming off a long-term relationship, though. That's the only thing that worries me."

"I'm not worried at all. You know I'm a terrific judge of people. If he were meant to be with this other girl, she would've have come to Texas with him."

"He did tell me he would be staying in Texas. Not going back to New York."

Emerson hooted in triumph. "See? I'm right. Holden is staying for you , Finley. And you two are such a great fit. He stepped into our friend group at dinner so easily. Sometimes, that can be so awkward, but Holden fit right in. I'm telling you now, the two of you can't break up. It would mess with the dynamics of our friend family."

She laughed. "I need to shower. I'm going over to see Mom and tell her about him. He agreed to come to Sunday lunch with me tomorrow."

Her friend nodded approvingly. "Big step. But a necessary one. He needs to pass the Farrow test."

Finley showered, putting on her makeup and blow-drying her hair. She dressed casually now in jeans and a Dallas Cowboys sweatshirt before driving the short distance to her parents' house. She had always been extremely close with her mom, thinking of Dianne Farrow as one of her best friends. She thought herself lucky to live and work in the town she'd grown up in and able to see her family as frequently as she did.

Using her key, she let herself in, calling out, "I'm here!"

"In the kitchen," her mom replied.

When Finley entered, she saw her mom pouring tall glasses of milk to go with the French toast on the table. The only time she ever drank milk was when she ate pancakes or French toast and loved that her mom always remembered that. She sat at the breakfast table.

Her mom held up a coffee pod. "French vanilla okay?"

"Sounds good."

Mom replaced the used pod with the new one, removing her own cup of coffee and bringing it to the table as Finley's brewed. She went to the fridge and retrieved a carton of creamer, doctoring her own coffee with it. By the time she did so, Finley's coffee was ready, and her mom brought it to her.

Finley put a splash of creamer in it, along with a packet of stevia, stirring and inhaling deeply before she took a sip.

"Perfect," she declared before taking her first bite of French toast. "Yum. Thank you for teaching me to cook," she told her mother.

"I was glad you were interested in it. Ches never was. Of course, I made him learn how to cook a few of the basics. Still, I know Sally does all the cooking now. At least your brother splits household duties with her."

"And he's a great dad," she said. "He was never one to shy away from changing diapers, and he's always read to and played with the kids."

They talked a little about what was going on at the Montessori school, and Finley shared the units her fifth graders currently worked on. Being teachers, they both loved talking shop. She wondered how her parents were going to feel about her leaving her career in education for photography. She would address that later, once she had both of them together.

Finally, school talk wound down. She picked up her coffee, finishing it before setting down the mug.

"I'm glad you had some time this morning to talk because I want to tell you about someone I've been seeing."

Dianne Farrow chuckled. "I don't know how much you have to tell me that I don't already know, Sweetheart. His name is Holden Scott. He's written two novels, both of which I've read, by the way. And your dad loved the movie of the first one. He's handsome as sin, and you went to the basketball game together last night, where he put Randy Foster in his place."

"You're on the mark about everything. The only thing I'm going to add is how much I like him, Mom. I really, really like him."

Her mother studied her a long moment. "You walked in today, looking like the Finley of old. The confident woman who knows her place in the world. You have a glow about you, Honey. One that's been missing for a long time now."

"I can be myself with him, Mom. I know relationships take work. I don't shy away from that, but right now? Things are so easy between us. We can talk for hours and never run out of things to say." She paused. "We can also kiss for hours and never get tired of doing so."

Mom's smile widened. "You found a man who likes to kiss for that long?"

"I absolutely have," she said, not hiding her own smile. "I've never met a man who wanted to kiss that long. Hey, I've never wanted to kiss anyone that long before, but it's different with Holden." She sighed. "Everything is different with Holden."

Mom squeezed her hand. "You're in love with him."

She nodded. "I am. I'm usually so cautious, but he's so open. Such a wonderful man. It's been easy to give him my heart."

"And your love," her mom added.

Tears stung her eyes. "Yes. I do love him. I haven't said that to him, though. He hasn't said it either." She swallowed. "I want to bring him to Sunday lunch tomorrow if that's okay with you."

"Of course, we want to meet him," Mom encouraged. "Tell me a little about him. Other than how hot he is."

"Mom!"

"Sweetie, I Googled him the minute I got the first call, so I know exactly what he looks like. And he is hot."

Finley couldn't help but laugh. "He is."

"And he must be a great kisser if you can do that with him for hours," Mom said, mischief twinkling in her eyes.

"That, too," she agreed. "He grew up in Austin. His family life was non-existent. Alcoholic father. Mother who worked all the time and was never around. Holden pretty much raised himself."

She told her mom about Mr. Hamilton, the janitor, and his influence on Holden.

"I'm glad he had such a fine man come into his life," Mom said. "Holden is fortunate he had an adult looking out for him."

"He taught a couple of years before he entered that famous Iowa writing workshop. Sold the book he wrote while earning his master's degree there. He's been writing ever since."

"If he's been living in New York all this time, why is he in Texas now? Better question, will he be returning to New York anytime soon and taking my daughter with him?"

"He's writing a screenplay based upon his second novel. I don't want to tell you everything. You can ask him about it tomorrow. As for New York, he's left it behind. He's from Texas and says he's back to stay."

They talked about what her mother would serve at lunch tomorrow, and Finley assured her that Holden would eat everything on the table.

"I've got to go," she said. "I've got a thousand things to do and a wedding to shoot later today."

Her mom walked her to the door, embracing her. "I'm so glad you came over and we talked. I'm looking forward to meeting Holden. Can I tell your dad about this?"

"Yes, tell Dad. I'll see you tomorrow."

As she drove home, a text popped up from her brother.

I have to hear you are dating a new guy from Sally, who heard it from someone in her book club?

She called Ches "Hey. New guy and I will be at Sunday lunch tomorrow."

"I hear he's famous."

"A little bit. He's written a couple of books."

Ches laughed. "You know I don't read. Unless it's something about football."

"His first book was turned into a movie. Capitol Crimes ."

"We saw that! It was great," her brother said. "Okay, just wanted to touch base with you. Since I'm meeting new guy tomorrow, I won't pump you about him now. Sally's better at that anyway. She can get anyone to tell her anything. See you tomorrow, Fin."

As she hung up, Finley had high hopes that lunch with her family would help add another stamp of approval to Holden. He already had stamps for being hot, smart, friendly, and fun to be with, not to mention her friends' ringing endorsement. Last night had let her know their chemistry wouldn't fizzle. If anything, that would only grow in her estimation.

All she needed was to know if he loved her— and that wouldn't be coming anytime soon.