Читать книгу The Mckennas: Finn, Riley and Brody - Shirley Jump - Страница 12

THE whole thing took only a few minutes—including Charlie’s beginning jokes and closing quips. They called in his assistant and a court clerk to serve as witnesses, the two of them looking like they’d seen more than one impromptu wedding. Charlie thought they were getting married out of love, and in typical Charlie fashion, strove to make the event fun and memorable. Finn stumbled when Charlie asked him about rings, which Charlie racked up as bridegroom nerves. “I can’t believe you, of all people, forgot a major detail like the rings,” Charlie said. “No worries, but be sure you make it up to her later with a lot of diamonds,” he said with a wink, then in the next breath pronounced them man and wife.

Man and wife. The words echoed in Finn’s mind, bouncing around like a rubber ball. He’d done it. And no one was more surprised than Finn himself. He, the man who hadn’t operated without a plan since he was writing his first research paper in fourth grade, had run off in the middle of the day and—

Eloped.

Holy cow. He’d really done it.

“And now for the best part,” Charlie said, closing the book in his hands and laying it on his desk. “You may kiss your bride.”

Finn stared at Charlie for a long second. Kiss the bride? He’d forgotten all about that part. He’d simply assumed a quick civil union in a courthouse would be devoid of all the flowers and romance part of a church wedding. “Uh, I don’t know if we have to—”

Charlie laughed. “What, are you shy now? Go on, kiss her.”

Finn considered refusing, but then thought better of it. Charlie would undoubtedly question a marriage where the groom didn’t want to get close with his bride. And if they were going to pull off this fiction in front of their friends and colleagues, they needed to at least look the part. Finn turned to Ellie. Her green eyes were wide, her lips parted slightly. In shock? Anticipation?

She looked beautiful and delicious all at the same time in that simple daffodil-colored dress. In that instant, his reservations disappeared, replaced by a fast, hot surge of want. No, it was more than desire, it was a … craving for whatever inner happiness was lighting Ellie’s features.

She stood there, looking as hesitant as he felt. A faint blush colored her cheeks, disappeared beneath her long blond hair. She looked like a bride—pretty, breathless, yet at the same time she possessed a simmering sensuality. He wanted her, even as he reminded himself this was a purely platonic union.

There would be no kisses. No lovemaking. Nothing but this moment. And right now, Finn didn’t want to let this moment pass.

Her gaze met his and a curious tease filled the emerald depths. “Well, Mr. McKenna, are you going to do as the nice judge says?”

“I would never disobey a judge,” Finn said, his voice low, hoarse. Just between them. Charlie, the witnesses, hell, the entire world ceased to exist.

He closed the gap between them, reached a hand to cup her jaw. Electricity crackled in the air, in the touch. A breath extended between them, another. Ellie’s chest rose, fell. Her dark pink lips parted, her deep green eyes widened, and her light floral perfume teased at his senses, luring him closer, closer.

Damn, he wanted her. He’d wanted her from the minute he’d met her.

With one kiss he’d seal this marriage. But was that all this kiss was about? This moment?

No. He knew, deep in his gut, that there was something else happening here, something he wasn’t sure he wanted or needed in his life. He could have been standing at the edge of a cliff, ready to plunge—

Into the cushion of water, or the danger of rocks? He didn’t know.

All he could feel was this insistent want. For her. For just one taste. He lowered his mouth to hers, and at the instant that his lips met hers, he knew.

Knew that kissing Ellie was going to change everything.

Her lips were sweet and soft beneath his, her hair a silky tickle against his fingers. She leaned into him for one long, blissful second, and he inhaled, drawing in the scent of her, memorizing it, capturing the moment in Technicolor in his mind.

Ellie.

Then she drew back and the kiss was over, nearly as quickly as it began. The flush in her cheeks had deepened to a light crimson. Her gaze met his for one hot, electric second, then she looked away, and turned back to Charlie.

Platonic. Business relationship. The heady rush gone. He told himself he was glad. That it was exactly what he wanted.

“There. It’s official now.” Charlie grinned, then he reached out and shook hands with both of them. The witnesses murmured their congratulations before slipping out the door. “Congratulations,” Charlie said. “May you have an abundance of happiness and children.”

Children. Or, rather, a single child. Half the reason they’d embarked on this fake union. Finn glanced over at Ellie, but her gaze was on the window, not on him, hiding whatever she might have thought about Charlie’s words.

A few minutes later, they left the courthouse, a newly minted marriage license in hand. The paper weighed nothing, but felt heavier than a concrete block.

Married. To a near stranger.

A stranger whose kiss had awakened a roaring desire inside Finn. He had thought he was doing this just for business reasons, but that kiss was as far from business as the earth was from the moon. And he needed to remember his uppermost goal.

Don’t get involved. Don’t fall for her. Don’t lose track of the priority. Don’t get swept up in a tsunami that would leave him worse off in the end.

As they walked down the street toward the parking garage, Finn dug his car keys out of his pocket, then paused. They were married. And that meant the occasion, even if it was merely a professional alliance, deserved some kind of celebration. “How about we get some dinner before we head back to Boston?”

“I should probably get back to work. I left in the middle of my day and have a lot on my To Do list.” She stepped to the side to allow a quartet of lunch workers to power past them. “But thanks for the offer.”

His To Do list was probably just as long, but for the first time in a long time, Finn didn’t want to go back to his office, didn’t feel like sitting behind that mahogany desk, even as the sensible side of him mounted a vigorous objection. “It’s not every day you get married, you know. We should at least have a glass of wine to celebrate. Or iced tea for you. I’ll have the wine.”

“Don’t you have work to get to, too?”

“Always. But it’s waited this long. It can wait a little longer. Regardless of why we got married, this is a big moment for both of us.” He grinned. “Don’t you agree?”

It was Finn’s smile that swayed Ellie. There was something … disarming about the way Finn McKenna smiled. He had a crooked smile, curving up higher on one side of his face than the other. She liked that. Liked the way nothing about him was exactly what you would expect.

Neither was his kiss. She’d thought that he would just give her a perfunctory peck on the lips, a token gesture to seal the deal. But he’d done so much more. Kissed her in a way she hadn’t been kissed in forever.

Their kiss had been short, but tender. When he’d touched her jaw, he’d done it almost reverently, his fingers drifting over her cheek, tangling in her hair. He’d leaned in, captured her gaze and waited long enough for her heart to begin to race with anticipation before he’d kissed her. When had a man ever taken such time for something so simple?

It left her wondering what it would be like to really be Finn’s wife. Would he kiss her like that at the end of every day? Before he left for work in the morning? For just a moment, she wanted to hold on to that fantasy, to believe that this was real, and not just a means to an end.

Even if it was.

Finn was right—it wasn’t every day that she got married, and she wasn’t sure she was quite ready to go back to her ordinary world, and all the questions this was bound to raise. They still had to settle on their story, and deal with other practical issues, like where they were going to live afterward.

Whatever little thrill she might have felt faded in the light of reality. This wasn’t a date, it wasn’t a celebration. It was business, pure and simple.

And nothing more.

“You did what?” The shock in Riley’s voice boomed across the phone connection. “You got married?”

“Uh, yeah, but it’s not …” Finn was about to tell Riley it wasn’t a real marriage, then he glanced across the sidewalk at Ellie, standing in the shadowed circle beneath an oak tree. She was talking into her cell phone with someone at her office, her hand moving to punctuate her words. Little bits of sunshine dappled her blond hair, kissed her delicate features and gave her a slight glow.

He had seen hundreds of beautiful women in his lifetime, but none that had that whole package of incredible looks and incredible personality. The kind of woman any man in his right mind would be proud to call his wife.

Except, this was merely a way to resurrect his business. Besides, he didn’t need the complication of a relationship, the heady distraction of a romance. He liked his life as straight as a ruler. And he’d continue to keep it that way.

“It’s unexpected, is what it is,” Riley finished for him. “What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t.” That was true. He’d thought he was challenging her offer, then once they were standing in front of Charlie, he’d stopped thinking about the pros and cons of what he was about to do and just … done it. Eloped. He, of all people. He hadn’t thought about the incongruity of that when he was in Charlie’s office. All he’d seen was Ellie’s smile.

“I thought you were all antimarriage. Especially after the Lucy thing.”

“I was. I am. This was …” Finn paused. “Different.”

“Well, congratulations, brother,” Riley said. “You’ll be all the talk at the next family reunion.”

Finn chuckled. “I’m sure I will be as soon as you get off the phone and call Brody. You spread gossip faster than a church picnic.”

Riley laughed with him. “So, where are you guys going on your honeymoon?”

The word honeymoon conjured up images of Ellie’s lithe, beautiful body beside his. He glanced at her across the way from him, and didn’t see the daffodil-yellow dress, but instead saw her on some beach somewhere. Her skin warmed from the sun, all peaches and cream and pressed against him. Taking things far beyond a simple kiss in the judge’s chambers.

Damn. That was not productive. At all. He shook his head, but the images stayed, chased by the memory of kissing her. The scent of her perfume. The feel of her in his arms.

Again, he forced them away and tore his gaze away from Ellie.

He’d come close to that kind of craziness when he’d dated Lucy. Granted, most of their relationship had been practical, staid … predictable. Then he’d had that moment of insanity when he’d rushed out to buy a ring, run over to her office to propose—

And found out she was stealing his clients behind his back.

No more of that. He’d gone off the rails for five minutes, and it nearly destroyed his business and his career. A smart man approached marriage like any other business deal—with clarity, sense and caution.

“Uh, we don’t really have time for that right now,” Finn said, reminding himself that there would be no honey moon. Not now, not later. “Work schedules, meetings, that kind of thing gets in the way of the best laid plans, you know?” He made light of it because for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to tell Riley the whole thing was a temporary state. That most likely by the time their schedules opened up enough that they could plan a joint vacation, they would be filing for divorce.

“You are going to celebrate at least a little, aren’t you? I mean, if any occasion screams having a party, this is it.” Riley paused a second. “Hmm … I wonder if it’s too late to throw you a bachelor party?”

“I don’t need one of those, and yes, it is too late.” Finn shifted the phone in his grasp. “Actually that’s why I called you. I was thinking of taking her out for drinks and dinner. But …”

“You realized that idea sounds about as lame as a picnic in the park?”

“Hey!” Then Finn lowered his voice. “What’s lame about a picnic?”

Riley laughed. “Don’t tell me. That was your second idea.”

Finn didn’t want to admit that it had actually been his first idea, but then he’d thought about bugs and sunshine, and proposed a restaurant instead. Damn. He was a hell of a lot rustier at this dating game than he’d thought. Not that this was a date—at all—just his effort to make this business alliance a little more palatable. “It’s a nice day. We could grab some sandwiches—”

“Last I checked, you don’t get married every day. So don’t do an everyday thing to celebrate it. Here’s what I would do,” Riley said, then detailed a plan for Finn that far surpassed anything Finn had thought of. A few minutes later, Riley said goodbye and Finn ended the call. At the same time, Ellie tucked her phone away and crossed to Finn.

“Sorry about that,” she said. “Duty calls.”

Finn chuckled. “Believe me, I understand. It calls me all the time, day and night.” At the same moment, Finn’s phone began to ring. He fished it out of his pocket, about to answer, when Ellie laid a hand on top of his.

“Don’t.” Her fingers danced lightly across his, an easy, delicate touch, but one that sent a shock wave running down his arm. “Let’s put our phones away. I don’t want to deal with work for now.”

“Me, either.” He pressed the power button, turned the phone off, then slipped it into his jacket pocket. “Besides, I have plans for you, Mrs. McKenna.”

Her eyes widened at the use of her married name. “Plans? What kind of plans?”

“You’ll see,” he said, then said a little prayer that he could execute Riley’s plans as well as his brother would have. Because just for today, Finn wanted to woo the woman who was now his wife.

Tomorrow was soon enough to get back to business—and stay there. For as long as this practical, contracted arrangement lasted.

How he’d done it, Ellie didn’t know. She stared in wonder at the tableau laid out before her. Chubby terra cotta pots held thick, lush flowering shrubs, lit from above by soft torch lights on bronze poles. A pair of squat white wicker chairs with fluffy striped cushions flanked either side of a matching table, already set for dinner with floral plates and crystal wine goblets. Candles flickered in the soft breeze, dropping a blanket of golden light over everything.

The sun had started setting, casting Boston’s skyline in a soft purple glow. Lights twinkled in the distance, while the red and green bow lights of passing boats dotted the harbor.

She’d had no idea that Finn had been planning this while they were riding back from Providence. Or how. They had kept their phones off, as agreed, and spent the hour of travel talking about everything and nothing—from growing up in the city to the challenges of architectural design in a world going green.

She’d learned that Finn hated spinach but loved the Red Sox, that he had his one and only B in seventh grade Science and that his first job had been delivering newspapers. She’d told him that her favorite food was cake, and that she’d been the last on her block to learn to ride a bike. She told him about the time she’d gotten lost in the train station and the day she got her braces.

It was the most she’d shared with anyone in a long, long time, and it had felt nice. Then the car pulled up in front of Finn’s building and Finn had turned to her and said, “All those details should really help when we meet with the adoption people,” and Ellie had been reminded that her marriage was nothing more than a sham.

If that was so, why had Finn gone to all this trouble to set up such a romantic tableau?

“How … when …” She let out a breath. “This is incredible, Finn.”

He grinned. “Thank you.”

“How did you do it?”

“Remember that rest stop we went to on the way back from Rhode Island?”

She nodded.

“I made a few phone calls while you were … indisposed.”

“A few fast phone calls. And clearly productive.”

“I’m a man who likes to get things done.” He reached for her hand, and she let that happen, wondering when touching Finn had become so easy or if she was just telling herself it was to preserve the mood, and then they walked forward onto the private terrace of his building, temporarily transformed into an outdoor dining room.

Just as Finn pulled out her chair, music began, a soft jazz floating from an unseen sound system. A waiter emerged from a door at the side, bearing a tray with water glasses and a carafe filled with two bottles—one a chilled white wine, the other a sparkling grape juice. He placed the water glasses on the table with merely a nod toward Ellie, then uncorked the wine and juice, pouring Ellie’s nonalcoholic version first, then Finn’s wine, before disappearing back through the door again. Finn had remembered she didn’t drink, and had clearly put a lot of time and thought into the entire evening. Why?

He raised his glass and tilted it toward her. “To … partnership.”

“Partnership,” she echoed, and ignored the flutter of disappointment in her gut. In the end, they would go their separate ways, and for that, Ellie was glad. She didn’t need the complication of dating Finn, of a relationship. Just enough information and time with him to effectively pretend …

Pretend they were in love. “And to business,” she added, for herself as much as him. “Only.”