Chasing Absolution (Remington Series Book 1), page 11
Finn was quiet. Too quiet. While he tended to listen more than he spoke, something about his silence caused the hair on the back of my neck to rise.
My mind spun as worst-case scenarios raced through my imagination. Was there another storm coming? Did something happen with the job he lined up for me? I swallowed hard as something even worse occurred to me. Had he decided he didn’t want me to stay here anymore?
As my thoughts spiraled out of control, Finn spoke. “So, I talked to my mom today,” he hedged.
His words halted my momentary freak out. He talked to his mom? Why on earth would that make him look like he was facing a firing squad? Before I had time to contemplate further, he explained, “It seems she had a chat with Reagan.” He exhaled heavily before continuing, “Apparently Reagan mentioned something to her about the fact you’re now planning to stay in town.”
I blinked several times while the implications of what he was saying sunk in. Okay, well, that wasn’t the end of the world. Audrey seemed like a kind woman, one who raised a son that went out of his way to help others. While I imagined she would prefer I wasn’t living with her son for the time being, I couldn’t envision the sweet southern belle being angry about it.
Finn’s lips pressed together, the sound of stubble scraping against his hand as he rubbed his face pulling me out of my thoughts. “Look, I tried to explain to my mom that a Remington family dinner was probably not something you’d be up for at the moment, but she said if I didn’t bring you with to Sunday dinner then she’d bring family dinner to my house.”
My jaw slackened when I processed Finn’s statement. His mother wanted me to come to family dinner? A memory of the woman inviting me to the weekly gathering flickered across my memory, followed closely by the look of disappointment when Finn informed her I wasn’t staying in town.
“I feel bad I’m asking this of you, especially since you’re still recovering, but is there any chance you would consider coming to dinner tomorrow? My mother’s a fantastic cook, so the food will be excellent. But my mom wasn’t joking when she said she’d host family dinner here. She’ll really do it.”
I considered the logistics my attendance would require and mentally sorted through all the clothing Reagan left with me. We managed to cobble together a couple outfits that miraculously flattered my curves instead of giving the impression I was stuffed into them.
The swelling of my nose had gone down considerably over the past week, and with the makeup Reagan left with me, I was confident I could cover up the bruising that remained. If I styled my hair with some of the products she left in my bathroom, I would likely be able to hide the stiches, too.
While I had no idea what to expect from the family gathering, I knew it would be incredibly rude to decline Audrey’s invite. Besides, if they were going to show up here regardless, I’d be participating either way.
Studying the man across from me, I realized this was the first time I could recall seeing Finn nervous. A small smile crept across my face in amusement at the idea a woman as petite as Audrey was able to instill such fear into a someone who literally made a career out of hunting terrorists.
Knowing I made my decision the second he asked, I put him out of his misery.
“Sure, dinner sounds lovely.”
A deep breath escaped Finn’s chest. “Thank you,” he said, the relief evident in his tone. Finn wiped his mouth before he continued. “I should probably give you some back story on my family.”
I nodded. Knowing a bit about his family would help keep me from sticking my foot in my mouth at dinner. “Do you have any siblings?”
“Yes, three,” he said. “I’m the oldest, Knox is two years younger than me, and Beau is a year younger than him. Our sister, Sienna, is the baby of the family and lives out of state.”
I conjured an image of three small boys with hair the color of mahogany while a little girl with matching curls trailed after them.
Finn continued speaking and the vision faded. “Beau retired from professional hockey around the same time I left the military. While he was in college, he earned his degree in architecture. He’s a freelance architect now.”
My understanding of professional sports was nonexistent, and my knowledge of architecture wasn’t any better. Hoping we’d find common ground to talk about, I nodded, encouraging Finn to continue.
“Knox works as a firefighter at the same station my dad did before his retirement. He’s been there for about ten years now and made Lieutenant last year.”
I possessed some knowledge of rank structure from my father’s time in the military, but didn’t know what obtaining that rank in civilian life entailed. However, the way Finn spoke about it made it seem like an achievement. While I tucked away the details Finn was sharing with me, I couldn’t shake the feeling there was something he wasn’t telling me.
As if he could read my mind, Finn inhaled deeply before confessing, “The reason I’m telling you about them ahead of time is because sometimes their personalities can be a bit…much for people who aren’t used to them.”
My breathing grew shallow at Finn’s statement. Seeing the alarm on my face, Finn rushed to reassure me. “I promise, they’re not mean or anything,” he clarified. “Beau’s the family joker, and while Knox is a moody asshole most of the time, he’ll be nothing but civilized at dinner. But when you throw all of us together, our family dynamic can take a little getting used to for anyone who isn’t familiar with it.”
Curiosity wound its way through me as my initial alarm dissipated. I reflected on the different family dynamics I witnessed during my time in foster care. Several of the kids I lived with had biological siblings they were separated from. When they talked about missing them and needing to find a way to make sure they were alright, I ached for someone to feel that way about me.
Thinking about Sunday dinner, I realized I had another problem.
“If I’m coming to dinner, then I need to contribute something. Do you have any suggestions?”
“Uh…” Finn said while his gaze flicked toward the stove, no doubt reliving the grease fire I nearly burned his kitchen down with. “You don’t have to bring anything, Tessa. You’re a guest.”
I nodded. “Yes, and as a guest, I should bring a gift.” My mind wandered to the small wad of cash I had tucked away in my room. While I was more than willing to spend a portion of the money on a gift for Audrey, I always preferred to give gifts that were homemade.
I mentally flipped through all of the things I could make that were least likely to end with another kitchen disaster. A memory of my mother with flour on her cheek after baking my dad’s birthday cake flickered across my mind, the sound of her voice as she sang along to the radio warming something deep in my chest.
“Does your mother like carrot cake?”
Finn frowned at me as his forehead wrinkled. “Yes,” he said, clearly suspicious of where I was going with the question.
I nodded to myself. “Okay, I can make my mother’s carrot cake recipe.”
“Um…” Finn said, drawing out the syllable while he likely tried to find a nice way to tell me no.
Knowing I had a limited window before he shut the idea down entirely, I rushed to reassure him. “No really, I can make carrot cake. I know I’m a disaster when it comes to cooking, but I used to bake all the time with my mother as a child.” I looked around his kitchen and mentally ran through what I would need to make it. “Although you might not have everything I need for ingredients.” I added, my shoulders drooping as I deflated at the possibility I might not be able to pull it off.
Finn studied me for several long moments before conceding. “What ingredients do you need?”
I rattled off a list from memory while Finn walked around the kitchen and set ingredients on the counter. By the time he was done, everything I needed sat on the kitchen counter.
“Perfect,” I said. “I’ll make it this afternoon while you work so it has time to cool.”
“Okay,” Finn said, uncertainty still heavy in his tone. “You’re sure you don’t need any help?”
I squared my shoulders as I looked at the small pile of ingredients. “Nope, I got this.”
Finn eyes bounced around the kitchen. “Alright, well I’m going to work from the living room with my laptop for the afternoon, so feel free to holler if you need anything.”
For the next hour, I worked diligently on making the cake. Every so often I noticed Finn’s head leaning backward on the couch to check on me. A tingling sensation zipped down my spine at the idea he couldn’t keep his eyes off me, until I rationalized he was likely making sure I didn’t destroy his kitchen.
I mentally patted myself on the back after successfully hunting a few rogue eggshells from the batter when I moved to turn the mixer on. A large puff of flour exploded from the mixing bowl, causing me to yelp and squeeze my eyes shut. When I opened my eyes, a shower of fine white powder rained down around Finn’s normally pristine kitchen.
“What’s wrong?” Finn asked from the doorway, worry heavy in his voice. I closed my eyes, my cheeks heating with mortification. Turning toward him, I found his fist was clenched and pressed tight against his lips while he struggled not to laugh.
I looked around the kitchen. Shame suffocated me upon discovering I single-handedly managed to coat every surface in a six-foot radius with a fine layer of flour. Tears stung my eyes, the knowledge I messed up again made infinitely worse by the fact I promised him I could handle this.
Despite the emotional toll the situation was taking on me, one thought broke through the fog. Why the hell wasn’t he pissed I destroyed his kitchen?
“Are you alright?” Finn asked, obviously choking back laughter.
A tight smile stretched across my lips. “Yep. I’m just fine. I promise I’ll clean all of this up when I’m done.”
An amused smile lit Finn’s face. “Tessa, I’m not worried about my kitchen’s cleanliness. Believe me, I’ve cleaned up messes way worse than this. I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”
A warm sensation unfurled in my chest at his words. I knew I needed to stop comparing Daniel to Finn, but my mind refused to ignore that if this happened in another kitchen, with another man, the outcome would be drastically different.
“I’m okay, Finn,” I murmured, surprised I actually meant those words for the first time in years.
Finn walked toward the sink and washed his hands before turning toward me. “Alright, chef. Put me to work.”
I looked at the ingredients around me. “There’s not much left to do really. The flour was the last thing I needed to mix in. I need to add a bit more to replace the flour that’s now covering your counters, and then it should be good to go in the oven.”
Finn nodded before moving to where I stood. I added flour to the mixture while Finn got the baking pan out of the cupboard. After beating the mixture for several minutes, Finn poured the batter into the pan and slid it into the oven.
Surveying the kitchen, I tried to figure out what to clean first.
Finn bent below the sink and set several cleaning products on the counter. He lifted his chin in the direction of the hallway. “Why don’t you go take a shower and get cleaned up? I’ll handle everything in here.”
I balked at the offer. “That’s very kind of you, Finn. But I made the mess, and I should be the one to clean it up.”
“Tessa,” Finn said, drawing my attention back to him. His eyes traveled from my head down to the floor. I looked down at myself, a flush rising through my body when I realized what he was trying to tell me.
Every inch of my clothing was covered in the same layer of white dust sitting on the surfaces of his kitchen.
“While I really appreciate the thought, if you don’t go clean yourself up first, you’ll just continue to spread the flour around while you clean the kitchen. But if it will make you feel better, I promise you can help clean up once you’ve changed.”
I nodded reluctantly, knowing he was right. I turned toward the hallway, only to turn back for a second glance at the man who continued to surprise me.
A small smile spread across his lips as he took in the mess I made of his kitchen. He truly wasn’t angry, I thought to myself before making my way to the bedroom.
As I stripped my soiled clothes in the bathroom, I couldn’t help but wonder how different my life would be if I met Finn first.
Chapter 15
Finn
The road dipped beneath us as I guided the truck toward my parent’s house. My hands flexed against the leather steering wheel, anxiety about how the next couple hours would go front and center in my mind. Tessa stared out the passenger window, thankfully oblivious to the apprehension I was experiencing on the drive to my childhood home.
When my mother called to “check in” the day before, she claimed she wanted to ensure I was planning to attend Sunday dinner. While many would have fallen for her carefully constructed rouse of nonchalance, decades of experiencing Ma’s particular brand of psychological warfare taught me otherwise. There was a reason my mother was so successful as a lawyer, and it had everything to do with her ability to extract information without anyone realizing what she’d done.
Knowing she’d find out soon enough, if she hadn’t already, I reluctantly admitted Tessa was staying with me. My attempts to explain why Tessa might not be comfortable around the animals we called family fell on deaf ears. Claiming I was being ridiculous, she told me in no uncertain terms that if I didn’t show up to dinner, houseguest in tow, she would bring family dinner to us. When she promised to ensure my brothers were on their best behavior, I relented.
After all these years, one truth I learned was to never underestimate Audrey Remington. If she said she would do something, you could take that to the fucking bank.
We pulled into the driveway leading to the solid white Greek Revival home my parents built shortly after I was born coming into view. The apprehension gnawing at my gut for the last twenty-four hours eased slightly at the familiarity of my childhood home
Tessa leaned forward in her seat as she took in the house where I grew up. Tall white columns supported the large, open front porch, while black shutters framed the windowpanes. The southern architecture was wholly out of place in the mountains of Montana, but when they decided to build a home on their land, my father insisted my mother design whatever she wanted. After being away from Alabama for several years, my mother chose a design that would guarantee she always had a little piece of home with her.
I exited the truck and made my way to Tessa’s door. As it swung wide, Tessa stepped down, her arms holding tight to the carrot cake.
Before we reached the front door, it flew open to reveal my youngest brother.
“Well, hello,” Beau drawled, his gaze moving up and down Tessa’s frame before turning his mischievous gaze on me. “Mama mentioned you were bringing someone. I assumed it was Roman, but I stand corrected.”
Beau leaned against the door, his hand gripping the top of the frame while he refocused his attention on Tessa. His lips curved into the charming grin that ensured he never went without female companionship.
Jealousy twisted in my gut as my brother checked out the woman who was quickly weaving her way into the fabric of my very existence. I narrowed my eyes at him, a low growl rumbling from my throat. Unwilling to tolerate his blatant perusal any longer, I charged forward, catching him off kilter and knocking him back into the house.
“Hey!” Beau yelled before he turned and sulked back toward the kitchen, but not before ensuring I saw the twinkle in his eye when he looked between Tessa and me. I gave him a slight shake of my head, to which he chuckled and disappeared around the corner.
Once the doorway was clear, I looked back at Tessa. Her eyes were wide, her full pink lips slightly agape.
“I apologize in advance for anything Beau says tonight. He never learned when to keep his mouth shut,” I said, ushering Tessa into the front hall.
Her mouth curved into a small smile while she walked inside carrying her contribution to the meal. I kicked off my boots on the rug and hung my coat in the closet. Tessa followed suit, a brief smile of gratitude gracing the lips that starred in all my recent fantasies.
Shaking off thoughts of her lips and the things I wanted to do to the woman they belonged to, my nose flared with a deep inhale as we made our way to the kitchen. Ahhh. Ma’s lasagna. It appeared she was pulling out all the stops for tonight’s dinner.
The door to the garage swung open. My father and Knox spilled into the room, still discussing the classic car they were restoring.
Mama finished pulling homemade garlic rolls from the oven. Noticing our arrival, she dropped her oven mitts on the counter and made her way to us. Opening her arms, she pulled me into a hug before doing the same to Tessa. Snagging the cake from Tessa’s grasp just in time to prevent it getting crushed in the embrace, I set the pan on the counter.
My mother’s affection caught Tessa off guard, or so I assumed based on the small squeak she let out as Ma’s arms closed around her.
Leaning back, Mama smiled up at Tessa. “I’m so glad you’re joinin’ us this evenin’, dear.” My mother leaned forward and whispered in Tessa’s ear. “I apologize in advance for anythin’ my boys say or do tonight. I promise, Jacob and I raised them better than that, but they seem to have inherited their father’s rebellious streak.”
I chuckled lightly. “Rebellious? Yes, I’m sure we got that from Dad.” All the men in the room chuckled at my mother’s assertion while her eyes narrowed at me. I stood my ground, slightly lifting one eyebrow, staunchly refusing to recant my statement.
Lightly shaking her head, my mother looked at the cake pan resting on the counter.
“What’s this?” Mama asked.
Faced with being the center of attention, Tessa began wringing her hands in the hem of her shirt. “It’s just carrot cake. I wanted to bring something to say thank you for inviting me.”
