Saved by the Bride

chapter Eleven

“You do realize this is all your fault? We could have been crossing the lake right now, well on our way to having wild monkey sex but no, you had to mention camping.”

Annika smiled up at Finn who’d cornered her near the storeroom, and was now using his body against hers in the most divine extortion tactics she’d ever experienced. She fingered his collar. “Actually, it was Hank who mentioned camping.”

“I should have him fired.” He nuzzled her neck.

His breath caressed her skin, making her dizzy. “He’s family.”

He raised his head. “And you think family can’t be fired?”

His expression said “joking” but she caught a glimmer of buried steel in the depths of his eyes. Business always comes first. She grabbed the stark reminder and held on to it like a life preserver in a debris-strewn sea. The fun they had together, the amazing sex they shared—all of it was very, very temporary.

She kissed him hard and then forced herself to break the contact. “Go have fun.”

He made a grumbling sound and tried to kiss her.

She ducked and pressed her palms against his chest. “Go. Relive your childhood camping adventures with Sean and tell Logan all the silly stories about the fish that got away and—”

“I’ve never been camping with Sean in my life.”

The words cracked like a whip and tension shot along his jaw so tightly she wondered how he’d been able to speak. She’d noticed a similar strain tonight when Finn had been talking with his father, although it lessened when they’d spoken about the company. She doubted they were close and yet she’d seen Sean with Logan teaching him to dive and fish—doing the things fathers did with sons that built relationships. Had Finn’s parents’ divorce got in the way of that?

She breathed in but it seemed hard work, as if she was pushing air against a heavy weight on her chest and she realized the weight was immense sadness for him. She recalled the few times she’d been lucky enough to go camping with her dad—just the two of them—and she treasured those special times when she didn’t have to share him with her mom or brother. “So tonight’s the time to start. It will help you all get closer, which can only be a good thing.”

“Annika.” He spoke her name on a warning growl. “I know you have this thing about helping, but don’t even think about getting involved in this.”

But she already was. With every passing day she was getting more and more involved with the Callahans.

* * *

Annika had slept with the blinds and windows open, allowing for the cross ventilation of fresh air and better sleep. The downside was the slivers of the dawn light and the cacophony of early morning birdsong woke her. Not that she minded. Between her excitement about setting up the thermography machine, thinking about Finn at the campout, and her arms constantly reaching out across the bed only to find a cold and empty mattress, she was done with sleep. Or to be more accurate, she was done with what had passed as sleep, and she was happy to start her day.

The sound of running feet and a slamming door launched her out of bed.

“Annika, are you here?”

“Be there in a minute.” Wondering why on earth Bridey was on the island so early, she quickly pulled on the nearest clothes, which were a pair of her shorts and an old long-sleeved T-shirt of Finn’s. She caught her elbow on the doorjamb as she walked into the main room and found Finn’s sister in the kitchen rummaging through cupboards.

Unlike Finn’s chaotic curls, Bridey’s hair was smooth, sleek and neatly pulled back in a ponytail. It swung around her face as she spoke. “Does Finn have eggs?”

Annika tried to focus beyond the fact that Finn’s scent filled the T-shirt and the cotton was stroking her body, reminding her that she’d missed him last night far more than was sensible. “Why eggs?”

Bridey levered herself to standing. “They’ll want a big breakfast after sleeping on the beach and I thought I’d cook it.”

Annika stifled a yawn with her sleeve and found herself breathing in deeply again. She gave herself a shake. Last night at their girls’ night in, Bridey had been overly bright as if she was trying to enjoy herself but was falling short. It was odd given that it had been her suggestion to do the pedicures.

She pulled up a stool. “They took food with them and besides, burning breakfast on a campfire is part of the whole camping experience. Surely you don’t want to deprive them of that.”

Bridey slumped against the counter and sighed. “You’re right. I know you’re right. It’s just I haven’t seen Hank in two weeks and his visit is super short. We’ve got wedding things to work out but instead of spending time with me, he’s off camping with my brothers and father!”

“I’m guessing you didn’t sleep so good last night.”

Bridey leveled a knowing look at her. “Did you?”

“Sure. With Finn gone, I got to sleep in the bed.” She didn’t want to talk about Finn, especially not to his engaged sister. It was her experience that all brides-to-be viewed the world in terms of future couples, and she and Finn were not a couple. They were just two people sharing amazing sex for a short time. She rounded the counter and banged her hip. “I’ll make us some coffee.”

Bridey moved out of the way and sat on the couch, hugging a cushion to her chest. “I’m sounding like a rich, spoiled brat, aren’t I?”

Annika liked Bridey a lot. She could have been a spoiled rich girl given how much her father was worth, but she wasn’t. Instead she was warm, funny and down-to-earth. None of the Callahans seemed to view their wealth as a right, but rather as a privilege. “No, not a brat. You’re sounding more disappointed.”

The sunlight caught the facets of Bridey’s enormous diamond ring which sent a shower of reflections dancing across the walls. “I had such hopes for this family vacation and none of it’s turning out how I pictured it.”

Annika thought about her own far-flung family. “You’ve actually got your family all in one spot.”

“That’s true. Even Mom’s here, which hasn’t happened since the divorce.” She spun her ring on her finger. “But I don’t have Hank.”

Something about the way she said her fiancé’s name made Annika look up from the coffee machine.

Bridey gave her an overly bright smile. “What I mean is, Hank not being here wasn’t part of how I saw the summer. I especially wasn’t supposed to be planning the—” she made quotations marks with her fingers, “—‘Wedding of the Year’ on my own either, but that’s happening too because Hank’s consumed by work.”

Annika scooped the fragrant coffee grounds into the filter and set the machine to drip. “I would have thought growing up in your family, work was part of the territory.”

Bridey grimaced. “Very true. AKP dominates everything but Hank isn’t like Finn or my father.”

The comment spiked Annika’s interest, especially as Bridey was a striking woman and Hank, with his glasses and serious expressions, came down more on the side of ordinary. “Is that part of the attraction?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” A slow wave of red crept up Bridey’s neck and washed across her cheeks. “All I know is that from the moment he smiled at me, I was his if he wanted me.”

Annika’s heart hitched in her chest at the idea of that sort of love and the fact it was being returned. “And obviously he wants you because he proposed and now you’re getting married.”

But Bridey didn’t reply. She didn’t even sigh in the blissful way engaged women tended to when they got lost in thought about their future with their soon-to-be husband. Instead, she chewed her nail and then started fiddling behind the cushions until she pulled out a rectangular board. “I was blaming Finn’s lumpy couch for being uncomfortable, but it’s this.”

“Sorry, that’s mine.” Annika crossed the room to take the board.

“What are you drawing? Is this the view from the cabin?” Bridey glanced out the window and back again, before taking a closer look at the two pieces of paper clipped to the board. “Oh, and this looks like a vine of hearts entwining the letters J and D.”

Annika avoided commenting on the lake sketch which she wasn’t happy with. “It’s an idea for a wedding invitation monogram. I’ve already done the one the bride wants but I was playing around with this idea.”

Bridey’s eyes lit up. “Can I see the other one?”

“Sure.” Annika flipped over her satchel and carefully removed the first fully completed monogram which was more traditional with fleurs-de-lys surrounding the initials.

Bridey jumped off the couch to study it on the table. “Annika, this is beautiful. It’s classically elegant, but if I was the bride, I’d want the other one.”

“Really?” When she’d been doodling the hearts she thought she might have gone a bit overboard on romance-kitsch.

“Totally.” Bridey moved back into the kitchen and poured two coffees. “Do you have any other examples of your work? I’d love to see them because I’m in the market for a wedding invitation designer.”

Embarrassment tangoed with pride. Annika wasn’t certain how much Finn had told his sister but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to work out she was currently homeless and lacking in funds. Bridey was being kind but she was also planning a lavish society wedding and Annika was only a small-town calligrapher.

“Bridey, please don’t feel you have to use my services for your invitations. You have plenty of time to check out other designers.”

Finn’s sister’s mouth took on one of a few familiar Callahan looks—mulish and determined. “I want distinctive invitations that represent Hank and me, and at the same time set up the excitement and expectation of our fabulous wedding. You’ve met both of us and there’s not a doubt in my mind you’re brilliant with pen and ink. I was thinking oversized hand-torn, champagne parchment with a gold monogram.”

Annika instantly pictured the glorious heavy paper. “Rolled, wrapped in gold-and-silver ribbon and hand-delivered in tubes.”

Bridey grinned. “I like the way you think.”

Annika’s brain whirred. Bridey had already mentioned three well-known Chicago wedding venues and Annika doubted she would consider Whitetail despite the town pinning their hopes on the Callahan-Neiquest wedding launching Whitetail—Weddings That WOW.

Still, if she invited Bridey to visit the main wedding office then she’d have done her part as acting mayor. She could show her some invitation samples and Nicole and Melissa could take their shot. Melissa might even be able to weave some dress magic although she had her doubts because she was pretty certain Bridey Callahan would be going haute couture all the way.

Annika sipped her coffee and tried to sound casual. “I’m going to my studio this morning to set up the thermography machine and print some save-the-date cards. Seeing as we’ve no clue what time the guys are getting back, and texting them isn’t in the spirit of camping, why not come with? You can tell me your ideas and we can go from there.”

Bridey raised her mug and smiled. “It’s a date.”

* * *

“You’re burning those eggs.” Sean poked the fire with a stick.

Finn’s hand gripped the panhandle. “You think you can do a better job?”

“Happy to try.”

“Take a shot then.” Finn rose from his crouching position and stretched his back. His sleeping mat hadn’t been designed for comfort but to insulate him from the chill of the ground. Who knew sleeping on sand was like sleeping on cold concrete?

It had been a long night, made even longer by knowing that Annika was sleeping alone in his bed only a couple of miles away. It might as well have been a thousand. His father had snored half the night and Logan had kept rolling into Finn. At 2:00 a.m. he’d given up moving Logan back to his mat, and instead had clamped an arm around him and accepted that an elbow in the head was part of the deal. Only Hank had slept as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

Finn didn’t get it. Hank had known Bridey long enough to know she could sulk when things didn’t go her way and that she was probably going to give him hell when he got back. Yet the quiet engineer didn’t seem worried or in any hurry to return to Kylemore. He’d risen early, got the fire going and had then taken Logan out in the canoe with the fishing poles and a promise of catching breakfast.

“You want toast?” Sean shoved a piece of bread onto a stick.

I want out of here. “One.” He poured them coffee from a blue enamel pot he’d never seen before. “Since when did Kylemore have camp equipment?”

“I bought it for this summer.” Sean shoveled the eggs and toast onto plates and handed one off to Finn before sitting down on the sand with the other. “I’m glad you came. It gives us a chance to talk.”

A prickle of something he couldn’t name made him hot and he gulped coffee. “We talk every day when I give you the daily report.”

“I meant talk about stuff other than AKP.” His father’s intelligent eyes bored into him. “It is possible you know.”

“Yeah, it’s possible.” He bit into the toast. Work was the only thing he and his father had in common. Over the years it had become their sole connection and he was very happy to leave it that way. “Thing is, I don’t want to.”

Sean stared out at the lake. “I know I was a lousy father to you.”

Finn choked on his eggs as the unexpected words snagged him. Words he might have wanted to hear at seventeen but he sure as hell didn’t want to hear now. “Lucky for me I had Grandpa.”

Sean was quiet for a moment and when he spoke, regret was clear in his voice. “It’s part of the reason I took off this summer.”

“How do you figure that?”

“I thought if we spent some time together it might help make it up to you.”

He thought of his father’s bizarre invitation the other day and every part of him froze. “Like going fishing?”

Sean nodded. “And camping.”

He spoke slowly as pieces of a puzzle started clicking together fast. “Stuff that fathers do with their kids?”

“Pretty much.”

The words melted the veneer of cool indifference he’d spent years cultivating so he could deal with his father. “F*ck, Dad. I’m not twelve.”

Sean flinched. “I’m well aware of that, Finnegan.”

Are you? Sean had been an absent father with a wake of broken promises trailing behind him and Finn had covered his childhood disappointments years ago by schooling himself to think of his father only in terms of the business and as an entrepreneur he could learn from. Sean had no right to try and change the rules on him now.

“Yeah? Well, your timing sucks.” He stood up, his plate falling to the sand. “You’re twenty-one years too late.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t try.”

The consummate businessman, the legend who controlled an empire, rose to his feet looking every minute of his fifty-seven years, and a foreign aura of uncertainty hovered over him.

Finn’s grip on the world as he knew it slipped slightly. His father was never uncertain about anything and a slither of alarm snuck in, unsettling everything he understood about himself. His anger instantly scorched it. “I don’t want you to try. You want to be a redux dad, Sean, count me out. You’ve got Logan to get it right with now.”

Sean’s mouth that had charmed so many so often, kicked up at the edges in a grim smile. “Being a parent is fraught with mistakes, Finnegan.”

“And you’ve got a hell of a diploma in that. Fishing and camping just isn’t going to do it, Dad.”

“I didn’t think it would.”

Sean met his gaze and Finn saw something in it that he didn’t want to see and it sent out malignant tendrils that took hold like cancer. “Me running the company this summer isn’t about gaining experience at all, is it? You’re holding me f*cking hostage so you can sleep at night.”

Sean ran his hand across the back of his neck. “The two things are not mutually exclusive.”

Finn’s chest burned so hot and tight he could barely breathe and all he wanted to do was get the hell away from his father. “What deluded planet are you currently living on? Did you think getting me here and saying sorry was going to be enough? It’s too late, Sean. Hell, it was too late years ago. I hope you get your absolution from the great outdoors, because you’re sure as hell not getting it from me.”

“Dad! Finn!” Logan’s excited voice hailed them from farther down the beach.

Every part of him wanted to turn and go but Finn could see the boy running as fast as he could toward them with sand flying, and clutching an enormous fish. A flash of memory—him as a boy with his first big catch—stayed his feet. In the distance, Hank pulled the canoe from the water.

His father hesitated a moment as if he wanted to say something more but he turned toward Logan’s excited voice.

Breathless and breathing hard, Logan held his catch aloft. “Look at the size of it, Dad.”

Sean’s face split into a quiet and proud smile and he slapped Logan gently on the back. “That’s quite a fish. We better take a photo to show Mom.”

“Finn, can you take the photo of me and Dad on your phone?” Logan asked.

He’d had enough of pretending to play happy families but he thought of the prized photo in the cabin of himself with his grandfather as he held up his first big fish. Every boy needed a record of their first catch and he’d do this for Logan before he left. The only thing that had been good about last night was his little half brother’s infectious enthusiasm for everything they’d done, and Finn had enjoyed his role in teaching him how to make a fire.

As he framed his father and younger brother in the viewfinder, his throat closed. Logan stared up at Sean with adoration shining in his eyes. Sean had his absolution.

* * *

Annika had an aching wrist, gold embossing powder on her face, sticky ink in her hair and five sample invitations for Jessica to choose from. Working out the speed of the conveyor belt to move the paper through the thermography machine had taken some tweaking, but she’d only had one invitation go up in flames. She was excited to hear Jessica’s response to the samples and she couldn’t wait to get to the post office on Monday morning to mail the samples. The save-the-date cards had been laser-printed on pretty card stock that Finn had suggested from the AKP catalogue.

Bridey had spent a long time browsing through the sample invitations and as expected, she wanted something totally original. She’d given Annika a check and had commissioned three different designs so she had choice. She’d also chatted with Nicole and Melissa over coffee. The meeting had gone smoothly and Bridey had complimented them on the romantic space they’d created and the ideas they’d put together. Then she’d twisted her enormous diamond ring on her finger and said, “The thing is, it’s absolutely necessary that Hank and I have a big wedding. I know we had the engagement party at the lake but the wedding is different.”

Nicole had nodded. “Rhinebeck did ‘huge’ for Chelsea Clinton. We can do huge for you.”

“That’s very sweet but I’ve already put a deposit on four venues including the InterContinental. It’s very important that I get married in Chicago so everyone knows that Hank and I are taking our first step to a long and happy life together. I have to do it right—everything must be done right.” Bridey’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean that Whitetail wouldn’t do it right, it’s just I have to get married in Chicago.”

“I understand,” Nicole had said, but when Bridey had leaned forward to take a cookie from the plate, she’d thrown a worried look at Annika.

Annika agreed with Nicole. She didn’t know Bridey well enough to know what was going on but her words, “I have to do it right” struck her as odd. Was there a wrong way to get married?

Still thinking about Bridey, who’d gone to the bakery for her mother, Annika wandered into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of iced tea. She was just twisting the top when her shiny new smartphone blasted out the piercing sound of an air horn.

She jumped in fright and iced tea slopped all over her hand and down her skirt. Grabbing the phone with her dry hand, she randomly pressed buttons—anything to silence the noise. Finn had given her the phone yesterday, and although she’d only received two calls on it, the ringtone for those had been quiet and classical. Was her phone blowing up? On the third jab the horrible sound stopped and she breathed a sigh of relief. As she washed her sticky hand a Missed Call message beeped.

She couldn’t believe that noise had been a ringtone and she didn’t know whether to laugh or stamp her foot when she saw it was Finn’s number. He must have programmed her phone so when he called it was impossible to miss. She pressed Missed Call and held the phone to her ear.

Finn’s voice roared down the phone, his words peppering her like a spray of bullets. “Where the hell are you?”

She pulled in a deep breath to steady herself and sat down. She hadn’t heard that tone in his voice since the police station. “Finn, what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that I’ve been to the cabin, the cottage and Kylemore, and you’re not there.”

“I’m at the studio.” She couldn’t understand why he was so upset. “Why didn’t you just call me when you got back to the cabin?”

But his reply broke up and all she could hear was, “Dock now,” before the line dropped out.

Five minutes later she pulled up at the dock to see Finn pacing up and down. The moment he saw her he strode toward her, his face set and his feet making the old wooden planks vibrate.

“Hi.”

He gave her a quick nod but not even the brim of his cap could hide the melee of emotions in his eyes. He grabbed her backpack and then her hand, and walked them both very quickly down the dock. An onlooker would have seen a well-mannered man carrying a woman’s bag for her. Annika saw a man in pain. She was about to ask him what was upsetting him so much when they arrived at the motorboat she’d tied up earlier that morning. She noticed the rowboat tied up next to it.

“You rowed here?” Her voice rose in disbelief. The island was a quick row from Kylemore but a good distance from Whitetail.

“Yes.” His mouth was a thin line. He handed her down into the motorboat before untying the rope and jumping down himself. Silently, he turned on the ignition and the large engine throbbed to life. With a deft pull on the wheel, Finn accelerated away from the dock.

As the boat gathered speed, the bow lifted, the flag streamed out in its full stars-and-stripes glory, and Annika fell back onto the seat, pushed there by inertia and held firmly in place by the force of the wind against her. The boat breached the lake’s speed limit and it hit each small wave with a knee-jarring thud, but Finn didn’t seem to notice. He stood, ramrod-stiff with one hand on the wheel and his gaze fixed straight ahead.

There was no point talking because the wind stole every word the moment it was spoken. She might not know the circumstances or the reasons, but she knew with every part of her that he was hurting. His pain radiated into her and she felt it too. Her heart turned over. Without thinking, she reached out and touched him, resting her hand on the small of his back, and started to rub his spine gently with her thumb. At first he didn’t move but then his rigid shoulders dropped and his back pressed into her hand. The boat slowed and he pulled her to her feet as they entered a pretty little cove where the pine trees came down to the shore.

“Take the wheel and keep her slow.” He tested the knot on the anchor and then threw it into the navy blue water, watching it sink until it was too deep to be seen. Then he cut the engine, pulled her to him and kissed her.

His mouth plundered hers as if he hadn’t kissed her in weeks and his hands gripped her arms tightly as if she’d vanish if he didn’t hold on to her. The stubble on his cheek grazed her skin, and his lips pressed hard against her own. She automatically leaned back to grab some breath. “Finn?”

“Please don’t talk.” He growled out the words and moved in again, his hands dropping to her hips and pulling her into him. She swiveled slightly so she fitted against him and he made a sound in his throat—half howl, half moan—an animal in distress.

It tore through her, ripping and tugging like a blunt knife. Right then she knew he needed her. For whatever reason, he needed her and she needed to be there for him. She pressed her hands into his hair, tangling them in his thick curls, and kissed him back. Her tongue dueled with his—thrusting and parrying until both of them were panting for breath but neither was pulling away. He smelled of salt, sweat and campfire smoke, and tasted of old scars and new pain. She wanted to soothe him as well as ride with him on this out-of-control journey, and give him what he wanted.

Keeping her mouth on his, she slipped her hand under his shirt and, gripping the waistband of his shorts, she undid the zipper.

The boat rocked.

He ground out, “Steady” as his hand fought the material of her skirt until he cupped her.

She trembled but somehow managed to release him from his shorts and her hand closed around his silky thickness.

He shuddered and his finger found the edge of her panties and slid into her wetness.

Her hand stroked him.

He stroked her back.

She gasped, “No,” knowing she’d come in a heartbeat and she wanted this to be for him.

“Yes.”

The boat kept rocking. And tilted.

Her balance shifted and their hands fell away.

The boat tilted back.

“Ohh.” She lost her balance completely and as she fell backward she tried clutching his shoulder for support but got his shirt instead. She heard a rip as the edge of the boat hit the back of her knees, and then she was airborne for a moment before being encased by water.

She kicked to the surface, gasping with surprise and the shock of the cold water against her skin.

“Annika! Here.” She turned to see Finn’s strong arms stretched out toward her from the boat and his face filled with relief. “Are your okay?”

“I’m fine. But I think my sandals are forever part of the lake.” Her skirt dragged at her legs like a lead weight so she took it off, balled it up and tried to throw it to Finn. It fell short.

He shook his head slowly as if her miss was completely expected and laughter creased his face, crinkling the skin around his eyes into smiling lines. By the time she reached the side of the boat, he’d retrieved her skirt with a fishing pole. Gripping her wrists he said, “I believe I’ve done this before. Why am I always rescuing you from water?”

“Just lucky I guess.” She tried to smile but her teeth were chattering. “Hurry up already. Deep water is a lot colder than close to the shore.”

“You were bossy last time too.” But his voice was full of a smile as he pulled her up until she could hold the side of the boat. Then he put his arms under hers and lifted her in.

He rubbed her dry with a towel, wrapped her in another one, sat her down on the bench seat at the back of the boat, and then pulled her close and kissed her on the nose. His dark eyes, which had been filled with torment half an hour ago, now sparkled with fun. “I should have known better than to try and have sex with you on an unstable surface.”

She snuggled into him. “If we’d moved back to here I might have been okay.”

He laughed. “I don’t think so, sweetheart. Lesson learned. It’s terra firma for us from now on.”

He kissed her again, only this time instead of heat, lust and demanding desire, his touch was infused with something very different from every other kiss they’d shared. Something akin to tenderness.

It circled her heart like a warm glow and she realized with a jolt that if she wasn’t very careful, she was at great risk of falling in love with him.