Turn to me, p.19
Turn to Me, page 19
She pulled her hand from his.
“You’re upset,” he said.
“I merely told you that I’ve been trying very hard to know you. Which, by the way, is perfectly true.”
“I can tell by your expression that you’re upset.”
“No.”
“Yes. Why?”
She rubbed her hands against her upper arms. Winter nights in the mountains held an icy edge.
In one motion, he stripped off his sweater, which left only the white, long-sleeved shirt he wore beneath. “Here.” Most of the evening, his sweater and his train of thought had combined to make him feel almost overheated. He welcomed this temperature change.
“I can’t take your sweater.”
“Please.” He held it closer to her. “There’s no reason for you to be upset and cold at the same time.”
With a great deal of pride, she put it on. It fell almost to the hem of her dress.
“Are you irritated because I came here tonight?” he asked.
“Of course not. I was delighted when I saw you.”
He didn’t like it when people made him guess at the source of their frustration. “Then what is it?”
Her skin was white as a statue, yet everything about her pulsed with life. She was maddening. Persistent, even when persistence made no sense. A defender of lost causes. Principled.
She made his demolished heart want to dream.
“I expressed my interest in you,” she said, “the day we found the clue with the Dewey decimal number. You turned me down. I assumed that was because you weren’t interested in anyone. But then I saw you with Dakota, and I thought, ‘What if it’s just me . . . that he’s not interested in?’”
“Dakota and I didn’t come together.”
“Oh?”
“And I’m not interested in her.”
“Oh.” She pushed her inky hair behind her shoulders. “Now you go. What’s your problem with me? And before you say that you don’t have one, I can tell by your expression that you’re upset.” She’d turned his own words back on him.
“I can’t stand Derek. I knew him in high school, and he’s a womanizer. Not the kind that has one-night stands with random people. The kind that would make a girl fall in love with him, sleep with her for a while, then break up with her for another girl.”
“Ah.” She lifted her chin to a challenging angle. “And you were a choir boy in high school?”
“I never said I was.”
“Have you changed since graduating high school?”
“Yes.”
“How so?”
“For one, I never plan to break another law for as long as I live.”
“Admirable. So you’ll understand why it’s possible that Derek might have changed, as well.”
“He’s not a pug that you can rehabilitate—”
“If only I could rehabilitate men as easily as I can rehabilitate dogs.” The look she gave him spoke volumes.
“I don’t want rehabilitating,” he growled.
“Which is the crux of your issue.”
His eyebrows drew down.
“I’m enjoying my time with Derek tonight,” she continued, “and I plan to spend more time with him. You declined to date me, so I fail to see how you have the right to criticize the men who do want to date me.”
They glared at each other.
Luke moved forward, wrapped an arm around her waist, and kissed her. One of his hands went to the back of her head, the other drew her against him. Her palms settled on his shirt, uncertain. But then she was kissing him back.
He wanted her with him forever. So long as there was a universe, that’s how long. He’d go anywhere she went. Do anything she asked.
The kiss drew out, demanding, dangerous, impatient—
Without warning, she stepped back. She wasn’t smiling.
His breath and hers jerked in and out, their exhales visible puffs in the night air.
“You are the most confusing man I have ever met,” she said hoarsely. “What did that just mean?”
He’d carry his brother’s death on his conscience his whole life. He cared about her far too much to want her to have anything to do with him. “Nothing.”
“It meant nothing? Excellent! Thanks for making that clear.” She whipped off the sweater, which left her hair crazy, and tossed it at him.
He caught it one-handed against his abdomen.
She stalked away.
He wanted to call her back—to explain, to apologize, to tell her how he felt about her.
But he did none of those things. He remained exactly where he was.
Silent.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The last time she’d kissed Luke, Finley had come through the experience feeling charitably toward him.
This time? Not so much.
After she returned home and tended to her pets, she flipped through the records she’d brought here from her dad’s collection. This moment called for Janis Joplin. She placed the needle on the vinyl and turned the volume high. Then she walked purposefully to her bedroom. After diving stomach-down on the mattress, she clasped a pillow to her face and screamed.
Following Chase’s death, this was the healthiest way she’d found to vent destructive feelings. She screamed again. Then again.
After a time, she sat up.
Take deep breaths. Relax your muscles.
It was very unlike her to leave a conversation on a jagged note, the way she’d done earlier with Luke. She typically maintained a sense of calm, even with demanding and difficult people. During their tense conversation in the garden, she’d repeatedly told herself, Remember step two, Finley. Show extreme patience. Show extreme patience!
Then, when they’d been kissing, the most heavenly sensations had swamped her. She’d ended the kiss not because she hadn’t wanted it to continue for hours but because she didn’t understand why the man who wasn’t interested in her was interested in kissing her. Then he’d had the nerve to say that the kiss meant nothing to him.
She punched a text message into her phone, then sent it to Meadow and Bridget.
Finley
I kissed Luke again.
Bridget
On Valentine’s Day! I’m not surprised. I have a really good feeling about you guys.
Meadow
A GOOD FEELING? What’s the mantra we’ve been practicing, Finley?
Finley
Do not fall for emotionally unavailable men. I had no intention of kissing him tonight. We were arguing. And then we were kissing, which was divine. And then we were fighting again, which was lousy.
Meadow
I’m familiar with that roller coaster. It eventually crashes. Men! Grrr.
Bridget
I think Luke’s in love with you.
Meadow
That’s a destructive conclusion! If a man tells you he’s not open to a relationship, no woman should interpret that to mean he’s in love with her.
Bridget
Nonetheless, I think Luke loves Finley. He just hasn’t admitted it to himself yet. He’s been alone for a long time. He’s afraid.
Finley
I don’t think he loves me but I do think it’s possible that his feelings for me are in the same galaxy as my feelings for him. The difference between us is that I’m willing to discuss my emotions and follow where they lead. He’s not.
Meadow
Case closed. Until a man tells you he likes you and shows you through his actions that he likes you he’s not worth your time.
Music pounded through the house.
What was she doing? What was God doing? Why would He give her these feelings for Luke if He didn’t intend something good to come from them? How had she toppled from her serene single existence into this—this vat of turbulent emotions?
So much unnecessary drama! And for what?
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. She couldn’t hear the words over the din, but it didn’t matter. She was talking to Chase, and he could hear.
What she and Chase had shared had been beautiful. No way would she now settle for stolen kisses with a man who didn’t value her. If she opened her heart to a man again, it would be to someone who respected her. Someone she could trust.
Luke had been right when he’d said playing with their physical attraction was playing with fire.
She performed another pillow-scream for good measure.
That’s it! No more. Luke wasn’t open to a real relationship, so it would be damaging to continue kissing.
Padding to the living room, she turned the volume low. Joplin became an undercurrent instead of a storm surge. She continued to the kitchen to make tea.
“Staying committed to Chase is easy,” Luke had said to her. “He’ll always remain perfect in your memory, and he’ll never let you down. The relationship you didn’t have with him can stay on its pedestal.”
Luke, of all people, understood things about her she’d not only never said to another living soul but hadn’t even acknowledged to herself.
She viewed herself as brave. People often complimented her on her bravery. She wore bravery like a medal around her neck.
Yet, when she got brutally honest with herself, she could admit that she wasn’t brave about relationships anymore. If she let herself love someone new, she’d be vulnerable to the exact same devastation—which had lasted years and years—that she’d endured when she’d lost Chase.
She blew on her tea before taking a sip. “You can’t live scared, Finley.” In which case, why not go on more dates with Derek? He acted like a gentleman. He seemed to think she’d hung the moon. He did not send bolts of desire through her veins. In other words, he was exactly what she needed.
So she’d go out again with Derek. But what should she do about Luke?
Their responsibilities at Furry Tails bound them together for eight hours a day, five days a week. The treasure hunt bound them together for additional hours outside of work. She couldn’t avoid him, nor could she give him the cold shoulder. She was an adult woman, and so she’d deal with him like an adult woman. With straightforward grace.
Even though she was still—still!—angry.
Luke spent Valentine’s night stewing over Finley and sleeping little.
He showed up for work the next morning with no idea what to expect from her. She’d proven that she preferred to talk through conflicts. But it could be he’d pushed her over a line this time and now she’d freeze him out.
Before he’d taken a seat at his computer, the door to her office opened and she filled the doorway. Bell bottoms, black top, and a hat he hadn’t seen before. Made out of black, white, and red wool plaid, the hat looked like a beret, except it had a very short brim at the front. Beneath that brim, her eyes were incredibly blue, like a candle glowing through sapphires. “Can we talk?” she asked.
He nodded, entered her office, and closed the door behind him.
They took the same chairs they usually occupied in this small room. This time, though, something new spiked the air. Hostility?
“Emotions were running high last night.” She crossed her legs. “I said and did things I regret. Same for you?”
“Yes.”
He struggled to read her mood. She was saying the usual Finley things but not in the usual Finley way, because hurt lay beneath every word. She wasn’t freezing him out, but he had pushed her over a line.
“In the past, you tried to explain why it wouldn’t be wise for us to follow through on physical attraction. At this point, I see the wisdom of that, too.”
“Good.” He felt anything but good.
“I think you were right, too, about the fact that God may not have intended for me to go without romantic relationships for the rest of my life. I’m going to attempt to open myself up to romance.”
“Hmm?”
“I’m going to go out with Derek again.”
He imagined connecting a right hook to Derek’s smug, smiling face. “Great.”
“I know. It’s progress!”
They stared at each other like two generals across a battlefield. Buzzing dominated his thoughts. He couldn’t swallow because regret cinched his throat.
“I’m hoping we can move on without any grudges between us,” she said.
Impossible. He was going to hold a grudge against her. Mostly for invading his life and mind. For draining Montana of its power. For taking his advice and using it to start a relationship with Derek.
“Can we do that?” she asked.
“What?”
“Move on without any grudges?”
“Yes.” It was the only answer he could give.
“Wonderful. Thanks, Luke.”
Silence.
“I was really pleased to hear,” she said stiffly, “that you’re working on your sister’s car. I hadn’t realized you were in contact with your family.”
“I communicate with my parents. It’s only lately that I’ve been in contact with Blair. She’ll turn sixteen soon, so she asked me to get her car running.”
“What’s your other sister’s name?”
“Hailey.”
“Everything I know about your family I learned through the town grapevine. I’d love to know more.”
“There’s not much to tell.”
Her mouth tightened. “Isn’t your mom a fitness instructor at the community center?”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to email her and invite your family to stop by here so that I can give them a tour.”
“I don’t think they’ll want to come.”
“I disagree. I think they’ll jump at the chance to see the place where you work.”
More silence.
“Well,” she said, “I won’t keep you.”
He stood. “I’m really sorry, Finley.”
Her chest rose and fell. “I believe you.”
“Good, because it’s true.”
“You’re forgiven.” She studied him. “I wish you could internalize just how forgiven you are.”
She was talking about God now. “Why would He forgive me?”
“Luke. Your faithlessness doesn’t affect God’s faithfulness at all. Not at all. He is faithful. Always. That’s part of His character. You believed in Him when you were young. Which means, when you ask for forgiveness, He forgives you. Period.”
“I haven’t done anything for Him.”
“None of the love He has for you is conditional. It doesn’t hinge on your actions or my actions. And thank God for that. You’re loved by Him. And you’re forgiven.”
No way could he deal with a spiritual intervention right now.
He left her office. At this moment, to continue breathing, he only needed one person’s forgiveness.
Hers.
That night, Ben and Akira reclined in the back of a truck bed in preparation to watch a drive-in movie.
“I’m glad this isn’t romantic at all,” Akira said.
Ben looked across at her and grinned. When he was with Akira, he often caught himself smiling. When they were apart, he looked forward to the next time he’d see her. Their personalities clicked effortlessly. She was funny and self-deprecating. He never had to guess what she was thinking or feeling because she was always quick to tell him.
“These thousands of stars glittering in the heavens.” She swung a hand toward the sky. “These cozy blankets you brought. This delicious hot chocolate I brought.” She lifted her travel mug. “Your face. I’m not finding any of that in the least bit romantic, which is a real relief, seeing as how we’re merely friends.”
“A great relief,” he said wryly.
“Whew.”
They saw each other a few times a week at Furry Tails, and they’d started hanging out once or twice a week in addition to that. They texted daily. He’d learned she had a thing for bonsai trees, mechanical pencils, and Gilmore Girl reruns. She also had a knack for sending him funny GIFs and memes right when he needed something to brighten his day.
The previews hadn’t started, so there was nothing to distract him from looking at her graceful, lively face. His eyes traced the slopes of her cheeks, the firm curve of her chin. “The popcorn isn’t great,” he pointed out. “It’s kind of stale and too salty. So that further detracts from the romantic atmosphere.”
“I’d agree with you, if there was such a thing as not-good popcorn.”
“Exhibit A.” He tapped the rim of the popcorn tub.
“No matter what, it’s crunchy kernels popped in oil, then sprinkled with salt. So—still good.”
“In that case, you can have my share.”
“I wouldn’t hear of it. Then I’d gain ten pounds, and you’d become even more fit. If you were any more fit, I might feel romantic feelings.”
He huffed with amusement. “My current body leaves something to be desired?”
“So much to be desired. And thank goodness for it. Your dad bod is my safety net.”
“Uh-huh.” He was in the same shape now that he’d been in back in college when he’d played baseball.
“Speaking of romance, how are things progressing for you on the recovering-from-heartbreak front?” she asked.
He took a sip of the hot chocolate. Delicious. Thick and rich with a crown of whipped cream. “I realized a while back that I’m not the best at letting myself feel negative emotions. It’s not my M.O. to be the moody, pessimistic guy.”
“Ah.”
“Everybody counts on me to be the upbeat guy. Not that I’m blaming anybody else. I stay the upbeat guy because that’s what I count on myself to be. I’m always fine. Always. So, if something makes me feel uncomfortable, I just shove it away and go on being fine.”
“I understand.” Her fingers toyed with the fringe on her throw blanket. “Back when I was sick, I did everything I could think of to distract myself from feeling scared. Bad decision. It would’ve been much better to talk with somebody about my fears and work through them. Instead, I didn’t mention it to anyone and so anxiety kept bubbling up and then devouring me.”
“What helped?”
“Addressing the root problem. Fear.”
“My root problem is sadness. I’ve been trying to give myself permission to be bummed.” He leaned back, angling his face to the stars. “I assured Sebastian that I could deal with pain. But it turns out, not so much.”
