Page 11 of One Vow

But I had Finn standing on my front porch, technically our front porch since we were still married, and I’d fully supported the community property part of our marriage once upon a time. “Hang on. I should figure out what’s going on here.”

I turned back to Finn, once again struck by how attractive he was. “Wow. Just…wow.”

He leaned in and sniffed, and I covered my mouth with my hand. “Have you been drinking, Lis?”

To lie or not to lie. I couldn’t anyway, because hearing the way he said my name, or the half of it he’d always used, sent a shiver over my skin. “Don’t judge. I’m having a really weird day.”

He chuckled, and I swayed toward him because the sound was better than anything I’d heard except Finn saying my name. Of all the things I’d forgotten, how had Finn Makenzie’s laugh made the list? Deep. Resonant. Memorable in ways most other sounds were not.

“Me, too.” He nodded toward his duffle bag. “The, um, east coast Santa convention is in town, and they’re taking up all the rooms at the hotel. I don’t have anywhere to stay.”

How was I supposed to know what he meant when he let his tongue slide over his lower lip and his head tilt. All I could see were visions of Finn coming in for a kiss that led to a touch that led to all the human contact, male human, things I’d been missing.

“And you want to stay here?” Yes, please!

Sofia leaned over my shoulder and gave me a hard shake as she, again, stage whispered, “Bad idea. Horrible. Run to the closet and hide. I’ll handle this.”

She jerked my shoulder and moved to stand in front of me. But, tonight, I didn’t need protection. I needed…Finn.

And if I hadn’t enjoyed being so near Finn, smelling his cologne, seeing his eyes, I wouldn’t have jockeyed for position and we wouldn’t have ended up falling out the door onto Finn’s luggage while I screamed at her.

“Get out of my way!”

She yelled, “I’m not letting you have sex with him!”

I rolled over to hold her down when two arms slid around my waist and lifted me off my best friend so I bicycle-kicked through the air. Then as Sofia stood, I slowed down, exaggerating every motion until we both laughed. And he set me on my feet.

Sofia narrowed her eyes and balled her fists. If not for the tequila, I would’ve moved to protect him. Also, if not for the tequila, she would have aimed better, and I wouldn’t have been unprepared and her punch wouldn’t have landed in my face, my left eye specifically.

I went down hard, skinned my knee, and probably broke a rib when she landed on top of me. Again. “Oh God, Lissy. I’m so sorry. I meant to hit the jackass.”

She pushed off me and sat back on her heels. “You know, the slimeball jackass who just waltzed back in here on a cloud of Old Spice or some shit, looking all fresh and tight, making you want to play the slap and tickle game.”

Even drunk, I knew this was bad. “Sofia. Stop. Do they even make Old Spice anymore?”

I looked at Finn who shrugged. And even though she was talking smack about him, he smiled like he understood. Or maybe I imagined it because I’d spent so many long nights fantasizing about and remembering that smile. “He smells like spice and citrus. And sex. He smells like I want to have sex.”

That didn’t come out right. Didn’t come out entirely wrong either. And he smiled again or maybe still, so a little humiliation was worth it.

“Stop picturing him naked.” Oh, she knew me so well, and real-life Finn looked just as damned good as imaginary Finn, and imaginary Finn had been the kick starter to many a sweaty midsummer night alone with my vibrator.

Sofia stood and wiped herself off as if I hadn’t broken her fall and kept her from getting so much as a speck of dust on her outfit. “Jerk face, here, should know what he does to you. How you haven’t had a real relationship in ten years because you can’t get over him. And how unfair it is that you haven’t had an orgasm that wasn’t self-induced since college.”

“Oh shit.” My mouth dropped open. Tequila made Sofia’s secret vault spring open. I needed damage control, to save face. To not want him to take responsibility to rectify that last one. I looked at him. “Um, flergh.”

He chewed his lower lip, probably to hide a smile, but I was too drunk to know the difference.

“Can’t just make up words, Lis.” He glanced at Sofia then at me. “Don’t worry. You aren’t going to remember this tomorrow.”

And that would’ve been consolation enough…“But you will.”

He grinned and helped me up then kept hold of my hand, brought it to his lips, and pressed a kiss against my knuckles as he looked up at me from under his lashes. “Oh yeah.”

Because I couldn’t stand there staring at my engaged husband and maintain any sort of self-respect, I turned to Sofia. “I’m going to get started on the forgetting.” I kissed her cheek. “Don’t drive home. Stay or Uber.”

I had things to forget. So, so many things.

One Decade Ago