The Best Intentions (Welcome To Starlight Book 1) Page 4

  “What do you think?”

  “He’s proud, and cancer has taken a lot out of him.”

  “Yeah.” Finn sighed. “But I have to do it.”

  She didn’t say anything, but the quiet way she watched him, her brown eyes gentle, made his heart hammer in his chest.

  “I want you to help me,” he blurted.

  “You don’t trust me,” she said with a laugh.

  “My dad does, and that’s a start.”

  She looked down, and a stray lock of hair fell forward to brush her cheek. He couldn’t help himself. He reached out and tucked the soft strands behind her ear. His fingers grazed her cheek and it was all he could do to resist leaning in to claim her mouth with his.

  Earlier today this woman seemed like a threat to his father and the bank. Now it felt like she was the only true ally Finn could rely on. How the hell had that happened, and was it his libido leading?

  He snatched back his hand and stood.

  “We don’t have to be friends,” he said, more for himself than her. “But if you truly care about my father, you’ll help me figure out what’s going on at the bank. It would kill him to lose it.”

  She stood, pulling the robe tight over her chest. “Okay,” she whispered, and the breathless note to her voice sent all of Finn’s blood south.

  “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow,” she repeated, tugging her lower lip between her teeth.

  Finn swallowed a groan. “Good night, Kaitlin,” he said in a rush of breath.

  Before she could answer or he could do something stupid like drag her into his arms, he turned and walked out into the night.

  Chapter Four

  “I put in an extra shot because you look like you’re coming off a long night.”

  Kaitlin smiled gratefully as she took the paper cup from her friend Mara Reed, who also happened to be the best barista at Main Street Perk, Starlight’s local coffee shop.

  She didn’t bother to mention that the extra caffeine would negate her one-cup limit. Kaitlin had suffered enough hard knocks that she knew the value of appreciating an unexpected kindness.

  This whole town was filled with kindness and generosity, at least compared to the life she’d left behind in Seattle. She thanked Mara, then looked away when tears sprang to her eyes.

  How embarrassing. She needed to pull herself together. She’d dealt with far worse than the mistrust she saw in Finn Samuelson’s movie-star-handsome gaze. Why was having her motives and morals called into question affecting her so strongly?

  “Hey, Jana,” Mara called to the teenager filling the napkin dispenser next to the coffee bar. “I need five minutes. Can you cover the register?”

  “Sure,” the girl said, smacking her gum and tossing a thick braid over one shoulder.

  “I’m fine,” Kaitlin protested as Mara came around the counter and placed a hand on her shoulder.

  “Scone or brownie?” the willowy brunette asked.

  “Brownie.”

  Mara released Kaitlin long enough to pluck a cellophane-wrapped square from the basket next to the cash register, then led her to a high-top table in the corner.

  “If you need chocolate this early, fine doesn’t cut it.”

  Kaitlin didn’t bother to argue even though it would make her late to work. Mara was the closest friend she had in town so Kaitlin wouldn’t pretend everything was great.

  She opened her mouth, unsure of how to explain the situation, but Mara held up a hand. “This is a two-bite story. I can tell.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Elegant fingers unwrapped the brownie. “Two bites of chocolate and then you can start talking. It’s emotional fortification. Trust me. I’ve been there.”

  With a soft laugh, Kaitlin took the hunk of brownie Mara handed to her. Although the dessert had been baked the previous day, it was still moist. She closed her eyes as she chewed, savoring the rich sweetness.

  “This is your recipe,” she said after swallowing. “It’s way better than the brownies your aunt bakes.”

  Mara looked almost embarrassed at having her talent called out. “You don’t even want to know how many late-night baking sessions I had after my divorce.”

  “I would have gained a hundred pounds,” Kaitlin admitted.

  Mara flashed a grin. “I took everything into Evie’s day care. Those ladies were actually disappointed when I started to get myself together.”

  “I doubt that,” Kaitlin said as she took a second bite. “Okay, maybe I believe it,” she amended as the chocolate hit her taste buds once again.

  She’d met Mara almost a year ago, when the single mother had moved to Starlight and started working at Perk, as the locals called it. Kaitlin loved the fact that she’d become a part of this small community, even if a few people remained standoffish due to her close relationship with Jack.

  Mara’s aunt, Nanci Morgan, owned Main Street Perk and had taken in Mara and her adorable daughter when they’d moved to town. Apparently she’d gone through a nasty divorce that had decimated her, both emotionally and financially.

  Kaitlin had immediately liked the snarky, sarcastic barista, as she had a sixth sense for recognizing another wounded soul. Most people in Starlight had grown up in town or lived there for years, and she was grateful for a connection with someone who was also starting over.

  Kaitlin was an only child and had found it difficult to make close friends as a kid when she and her mom moved around so often. Cindi Carmody had a habit of falling fast and hard for whichever man caught her eye. Since she typically stuck to run-down, month-to-month rental apartments, she was always happy to shack up with a boyfriend as soon as he’d invite her into his home. The older Kaitlin got, the more her mom seemed to be scraping the bottom of the barrel with the men she chose. She had a penchant for pills and had been to rehab three times before Kaitlin had graduated high school.

  Each time Kaitlin had been thrust into a different foster care family, and she’d hated and resented every experience.

  She doubted Mara had ever sunk to the depths she’d experienced. Despite her reduced circumstances since the divorce, her friend retained a level of polish and class that came from having experienced a privileged life. Mara might be standoffish with people who didn’t know her well, but she wasn’t a snob, and she seemed to appreciate that Kaitlin didn’t judge her for how far down in life she’d presumably tumbled.

  “Okay, the chocolate should be hitting your system,” Mara said with a wink as Kaitlin wiped one corner of her mouth with a paper napkin. “What’s going on?”

  “Trouble at work,” Kaitlin said with a sigh and watched her friend blow out a relieved breath. “What did you think?”

  “Your ex-boyfriend,” Mara admitted. She was the only person in Starlight who knew about what a scumbag Robbie had been.

  “No more man trouble for me,” Kaitlin said, then bit her lip. “Well, not exactly.”

  “That sounds intriguing.”

  One word to describe Finn. Irritating, irresistible and irate also came to mind.

  “Jack’s son is in town,” Kaitlin explained. “He found out about the cancer and the trouble at the bank. He blames me.”

  “For cancer?” Mara sounded outraged.

  “No. Of course not. For what’s happening at the bank.” Over drinks at Mara’s tiny bungalow a few weeks ago, Kaitlin had confided her fear that Jack’s focus on his cancer treatment was compromising his ability to run the bank. She understood Jack didn’t want anyone to know about his illness but had needed to share her worry with someone she trusted.

  “Why would that be your fault?”

  Kaitlin shrugged. “He had Nick Dunlap run a background check on me.”

  “You were wild but not exactly a white-collar criminal,” Mara pointed out, her pert nose wrinkling.

>   “No doubt.” Kaitlin sipped her coffee, the sweetness of the smoky caramel flavor soothing her like she was a child who’d been given a lollipop after skinning her knee on the playground.

  “But it still has nothing to do with you.”

  “He also wants me to help him figure out a solution.”

  “He thinks you’re part of the problem and he wants you on his team?” Mara glanced over her shoulder at the line forming around the side of the coffee bar.

  “I’m guessing it’s his version of ‘keep your friends close but your enemies closer.’”

  “You’ve done nothing wrong,” Mara reminded her. “In fact, Finn has you to thank for his dad’s recovery. Your research discovered the doctor working on the successful treatment.”

  The bells over the entrance tinkled, and like a moth to a flame, Kaitlin’s attention was drawn to the tall, devastatingly handsome man entering the coffee shop.

  Mara gave an appreciative whistle under her breath. “Tell me that’s not Finn Samuelson.”

  Finn glanced toward their table, his blue eyes darkening when his gaze met Kaitlin’s. She thought about the warmth of his finger on her cheek. The answering heat that had pooled low in her belly. Goose bumps pricked along her skin, and she dug her fingernails into the fleshy part of her palm, willing herself not to react. Finn’s dark brows furrowed slightly. Then he nodded in greeting and headed to the back of the line.

  “You see my problem, right?”

  Kaitlin shifted her gaze across the table toward her friend. Mara was fanning herself with one hand, a smile curving her lips.

  “I saw the way he looked at you.”

  “Like I’m a criminal,” Kaitlin muttered.

  “Like he wants to do things to you that are probably illegal in a number of states,” Mara answered with a laugh. “What happened to your self-imposed dry spell with dating?”

  “It’s still in effect.”

  Mara shook her head. “Then you’d better hope Finn’s stay in Starlight is a short one. I’m not sure how anyone would resist that guy for long.”

  “It’s not a matter of resisting,” Kaitlin insisted. “He doesn’t trust me.”

  “But he wants you,” Mara told her, “and that’s either better or worse depending on your perspective.”

  Kaitlin darted another glance at the way the tailored suit jacket stretched across Finn’s broad shoulders as he waited in line. “Definitely worse,” she whispered.

  Mara stood and reached across to give her a quick hug. “I need to get back. Just remember that this is your home now. Don’t let Finn Samuelson, or anyone, make you feel like you don’t deserve the life you’ve created here.”

  “I didn’t even tell you my fear,” Kaitlin said with a strangled laugh, “and you knew it anyway.”

  “It’s my gift,” Mara said. She pointed a finger at Kaitlin. “And don’t have sex with him. No complications.”

  “I would never in a million years...” Kaitlin trailed off. She absolutely would have taken Finn to bed, and not that long ago. In her old life she had a penchant for making bad decisions and self-sabotaging, often with bad choices in men. “I’m not planning to do anything with Finn.”

  “Stick to the plan,” Mara said with a nod, then headed back to work.

  Kaitlin popped one last bite of brownie into her mouth, then rewrapped the leftover bit and shoved it into her purse. She felt both calmer after talking to Mara and kind of jittery from the extra shot of caffeine.

  Those jitters turned into a full-blown swarm of butterflies flitting across her stomach when she turned to find Finn waiting for her at Perk’s entrance.

  “Good morning,” she said as she approached, proud of how calm her voice sounded. “You got through the line in record time.”

  He held up his cup. “Black coffee is an easy order. How did you sleep?” he asked, and she immediately choked on a swallow of coffee.

  “Fine.” She wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand.

  He gave her a look like he knew she was lying. She’d always been a terrible liar, something that had probably kept her from getting into more trouble back in the day. It was difficult to take too many risks when she had no confidence in her ability to not get caught.

  She imagined the amount of fun she could have getting caught by Finn.

  “Your dad was still at the house when I left,” she said, reminding them both of the connection between them. Not her physical reaction, which she needed to ignore.

  “What time does he usually get to the office?”

  “By nine.”

  He let out a disbelieving snort. “Some things never change. When we were kids, he was gone by sunup and often back late at night after a business dinner.”

  “He’s not the same as he used to be,” she said, widening her steps to match his as they crossed the street.

  “I get it.”

  “Do you?” The entrance to the bank was two storefronts away, and Kaitlin took hold of Finn’s muscled arm, moving to block his progress, much as she had when he’d shown up to see Jack yesterday.

  “It’s not just about the cancer,” she clarified. “You’ve been gone for years, Finn. I understand that you had problems with your father when you were younger, but he’s not a villain. Whatever perceived grievances you have, I know he regrets not being closer to you and your sister.”

  “Perceived?” he repeated, temper turning his voice razor sharp. “You have no idea what my childhood was like or how he closed himself off after Mom died. It was like living with a ghost. He just faded away, only materializing when he wanted to yell at Ella or tell me how I needed to work harder to live up to the Samuelson legacy. The pressure of...” His eyes narrowed. “What is that?”

  “You don’t recognize it?” She’d raised her hands in front of her chest and cocked her head like she was playing a musical instrument. “It’s the tiniest violin in the world with a song of great pity for your horrible childhood.”

  “You can’t understand—”

  “Give me a break.” She stepped closer until the toes of her black high-heeled shoes just touched the fronts of his expensive-looking leather wingtips. “Look at this town.” She spread her hands wide, careful not to spill her coffee. “It’s like Washington’s version of Pleasantville. It’s tragic that your mom died and awful that your dad had trouble dealing with it.” She dropped her arms. “But you can’t convince me you didn’t have it pretty good. Let’s play a little game of ‘have you ever,’ Finnie-boy.”

  He looked at once annoyed and amused by the endearment.

  Kaitlin drew in a deep breath, then asked, “Did you ever have to sneak food from the cafeteria trash can because there were no groceries in the house?”

  He blinked. “Of course not.”

  “Ever get put into foster care when your parent went to rehab?”

  “You know I didn’t.”

  Old anger and bitterness swelled in her. She should push it down but instead let it wash over her like a wave, losing herself in all she’d endured even though it still hurt. “Have you ever sneaked out of your bedroom window and slept a night under the playground slide in your neighborhood park because your mom’s lousy boyfriend of the week got that look in his eye when you were brushing your teeth?” A tremor went through her at the memory. “The look that said he was coming into your bedroom late that night and nothing was going to stop him.”

  “Kaitlin.”

  She shook off the sympathy in his tone. “You don’t know hard.”

  His full mouth thinned and a crease appeared between his brows. “When I was fourteen, my mom had a seizure while driving me to football practice. I’d been in the middle of a teenage rant complaining because we were running five minutes late. She ran off the road and crashed into a tree. I was ejected from the car but sustained only minor injuries.”

&nb
sp; “I’m sorry for your loss,” she whispered, “but—”

  He held up a hand. “You said your piece. It’s my turn.” He ran the same hand through his hair and she noticed his fingers trembled. “The front of the car was like an accordion, collapsing into my mother and damaging her inner organs. I couldn’t free her no matter how hard I tried. Another driver dialed 911 but she died before the ambulance arrived. I was holding her hand when she let go.”

  Reaching out, he traced a finger along the tears streaming down her cheeks. Kaitlin hadn’t realized she was crying. “I don’t think you want to weigh our respective situations and tally who had it worse. We both went through something terrible.”

  She gave a shaky nod, embarrassed that she’d gone down this road with him in the first place.

  “It’s great that you and my father are friends.” Finn drew back his hand. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for him. But don’t tell me I’m not entitled to my own feelings about my childhood. They’re none of your business.”

  “Your dad has talked about you a lot in the past few months. He has a lot of regrets, Finn. I just wanted you to know that.” Even to her own ears the rationale sounded weak.

  “Duly noted. Now, stay out of my life.”

  Finn turned on his heel and stalked toward the bank, and Kaitlin felt like the biggest jerk on the planet.

  Chapter Five

  Two hours later, Finn massaged a hand along the back of his neck, still feeling like a colossal jerk for how he’d spoken to Kaitlin.

  He also couldn’t believe he’d shared so much detail of his mother’s death. He hadn’t talked about the accident for years. Of course, everyone who’d been in Starlight at the time knew what happened.

  But if his family ever came up in conversation in Seattle, he said as little as possible. A few people knew his mother had died when he was in high school but no one knew the circumstances.

  He hated the sharp ache in his gut that accompanied his memories. He hated himself for trying to one-up Kaitlin in the crappy-childhood department. She’d revealed a lot about herself with those “have you ever” questions, and the vulnerability in her melty brown eyes had triggered something in him. Something ugly and small that caused him to lash out.