Daring the Wild Sparks (12 page)

“No way!”

His fingers holding onto mine slacken as he sulks. “Take it easy. I probably couldn’t get permission anyway.”

“Not from me.” Although they’re partially shaded, I know he’s rolling his eyes, which sets me off and I pivot to face him, still gripping his hand. “I’m fucking serious, Finn! There’s a limit of how much I can take with your stunts and dares!” I wave my other hand to the now-ominous structure. “Nothing like this anymore!”

He frowns. “I already gave up New River. That was the highest jump.”

“Not skydiving?”

He glances away from me. “Besides that.”

I nearly stomp my foot. “No! I love you too much to see you killed for some stupid ratings draw!”

I see his dark eyes hardening behind his glasses. He snaps, “That’s
not
why I do them, Becks.”

“I know why you do them and that reason is even worse!”

Furtively, I look around us for spectators to my rant. Finn sighs and tightens his fingers between mine again. “Baby, I know you’re scared...”

“You’re damned right, I am! Don’t even tell me that there’s
nothing
that scares you, Wilder.” He glares at me, knowing exactly what I’m referring to, but doesn’t respond. We stare at each other until he ultimately blinks and looks away.

I didn’t mean to start arguing with him. I am a jerk. I know this is his addiction, his job and his life before he met me. Inevitably, he still would be doing this if we never met. Would he even still be alive? I can’t stop him from doing all of it because he would certainly lose his job, but the stunts he does just for the hell of it on his own time, fuck no. I don’t know how he’s avoided not doing the New River Gorge Bridge for his show. Did he tell Hank he won’t do it anymore? I want to ask Finn, but I’m also afraid of giving him any ideas about participating this year at the Bridge Day Festival. I know from the longing looks he gives the picture on his nightstand, he is dying to do it again.

I need to get him off this subject.

I tug on his hand and say, “I have something I want to give you.”

He glances at me. “What are you going to give me?” He says somewhat suggestively, trying to be playful, but it falls flat, akin to what I envision him doing when he jumps from ridiculous heights.

“You’ll see. Can you give me my car key?” He scrutinizes my face suspiciously before he reaches into his pocket and hands me my key.

“Thank you. I’ll be right back.” I hurriedly stride over to my car and climb into the passenger seat, shutting the door. I pick up my purse from the floor and dig out Finn’s gift.

When I return to him, he has his back to me, watching the cars in a neighboring lot. Did I truly make him mad? Is he rethinking having me in his life since I’m such a spoilsport?

“I got you something.”

He turns around, looks down to my hands and hesitantly asks, “For what?”

“Easter.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” He again raises his sunglasses and parks them on top of his head.

“I wanted to.”

He tentatively takes the cream-colored rectangular box and eyes me questioningly. He pries the lid off and I take it from him. He stares down into the box and I look up to his face to gauge his reaction. So far, nothing.

“What do you think?” I timidly ask. He reaches in and pulls out a two and a half inch, gunmetal brown key charm on a chain made up of tiny metal balls. It’s a plain key, compared to mine, but I thought that it was perfect for a guy.

“Flip it over,” I instruct him. He does so and his lips part. The look in his eyes is maybe appreciative, but I’m not sure.

“Do you like it?” asking him another question, hoping he’ll answer one of them.

He swallows and a smile creeps onto his face. “Becks.”

I peer into his hand and see the engraving:

The key to my wild heart

“It’s perfect, don’t you think? It plays off the one you gave me:
The key to my Wilder heart
. Coincidentally, it also goes with you getting your tattoo.”

His gaze slides from the key to me. “I love it, baby. Thank you. It’s perfect.” He shakes his head. “You didn’t have to get me this because I got you the ring. You saying you’ll move in with me is gift enough.”

I smile. “Again. You are so sweet when you’re not running that cocky mouth of yours.”

He laughs and looks back at the necklace. “You like me cocky.”

“Sometimes.” He raises an insolent eyebrow and grins crookedly at me. I add, “You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to. I just thought I’d give you the key to my heart in return.”

“Try and stop me.” Reaching into the box, he picks the key up, handing it to me before spinning around. He stoops so I am able to clasp the chain at the nape of his neck.

Straightening and turning back around, he smiles at me implores, “Can I have that kiss now?”

I reach up, grasp both sides of his face and he bends to gently kiss me. His lips linger on mine and I smile against them. “How about
Finny
?” I bite my lip so hard that it hurts.

He tilts away from me. “
Finny
? For what?” he asks cautiously.

“Your new name!” My hands cover my mouth. I can’t even say it without giggling.

His face is sour. “You call me that, and I’ll never eat your bizarre pancakes again.”

I try to look wounded by his comment, but I end up laughing until I snort. I blame Rod!

Finn rolls his eyes, laughing with me. He grabs my waist and kisses my cheek, making me close my eyes at the feel of his bristles against my skin. Curling my arms around his neck, I hug him to me, inhaling his musky scent, elated that he likes his gift.

This time.

CHAPTER 11

Finn takes me out to lunch at a little place near the lighthouse. We sit by a window and the white tower is visible from our seat.

I happily smile as I watch him eat his cheeseburger. “I like this.”

His gaze leaves his burger and finds mine. His confusion is apparent. “What? The chicken?”

“No.” I grin and point from me to him. “This. Me and you. Together. No one else.”

His confusion doesn’t waver. “Except for these past two weekends, we usually are ‘me and you. Together. No one else.’”

I roll my eyes and angle my head at him. “Yeah, but we usually stay home. We don’t do actual sitting in restaurants very much. Just take-out, or only the short lunches at a fast food place once a week.”

He winces and sets down his sandwich. “Sorry. I’ve been such a shitty boyfriend, Becks.” He reaches across the table to grab my hand.

I stare into his beautiful browns and play with his fingers. “No, Finn. You haven’t. You’re the best boyfriend. You just don’t like sharing me with people.”

He dubiously glares at me. “What kind of sharing?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “You know what I mean.”

He petulantly grumbles and looks down at the table, “Yeah, I know. I don’t like sharing you, though.”

“As if I want to share you? I see my boyfriend on TV, online, the newspaper, public events, billboards… Where do you see me among those things?”

He looks up at me and strokes my fingers. “Becks, it’s my job. If you really don’t want me doing it, I’ll find something else.” His handsome face is so earnest. Would he really do that…for me? Give up everything he ever wanted, what he went to school for, the reason why he moved to Richmond—all for
me
?

“Do you mean that?”

He diffidently nods, staring into my eyes. “Yes.” Wow. I would never ask him to give up his job, but it’s nice to hear that he would if I did.

“So, if I said there was an opening at the firm as Rod’s bodyguard, you’d take it?”

I can practically hear the disdain progressing throughout his head like ivy creepy up a trellis. He glances out the window. “Um, maybe not that. I’ll empty his trash can and dust his office. Hell, I’ll even wash his truck, but I don’t know about watching his whereabouts all day long. That might be too much Rod for me.”

I laugh. “True. Mostly he’s in my office.”

His eyes are instantly on me again and his reaction is slightly guarded. He tries to swallow it away before he casually asks, “He is? Why?” Is he still jealous even after Rod told Finn he thinks of me as a sister?
Oh, Finn…

I take a quick drink of my lemonade. “Because he gets bored and he likes making fun of people outside my window.”

He stares at me for a few seconds before he replies, “Oh.”

“You should come up and see my office sometime. Let me know and I’ll have the guards send you up. You’ve never been upstairs since I always meet you in the parking lot to go to lunch.”

“You’ve never seen mine either.”

“No, but I’d like to.”

He shrugs and takes a drink of his iced tea. “I share an office with two of the other Sports guys, Todd and Tony. Drake shares his with Andy, our consumer reporter.”

“Why don’t you have your own office?”

“Not enough space. They’re going to add on some offices, so I may very well get my own. It’s no big deal, really, as we’re all in and out at different times.”

He takes a bite of his sandwich and I whisper, “I have a confession.”

He glances at me, looking slightly alarmed. “What?”

I look around to the sparsely filled restaurant. Nobody is paying any attention to us. I also note that we’re the youngest patrons in here. “After breaking my wrist, I made sure to watch you every time you were working. I wanted to see you as much as possible.”

He regards me questioningly as he wipes his hands on a napkin. He actually doubts me? “Really?”

I nod. “I daydreamed about you being my boyfriend.”

He continues to observe me with reservation. “I didn’t know that.”

I nod again and prop my chin on my hand to gaze into his expressive, yet at the same time, judicious brown eyes. “You’re so sexy with your deep voice, your magical color-changing hair, those seductive brown eyes that seem to have something to hide,” I let my eyes drift down to his chest and then back up to his face, “and that body.” I give him a trifle smile and his eyes slightly widen. “I think I could even fall in love with you.” I coquettishly toy with my hair, twirling it around my finger. “I was wondering if I could have your autograph. Maybe take you out to dinner?”

He shifts forward, his public mask he wears for work and his Finnatics automatically slides into place. He makes it seem so easy to switch between the two Finns I know, going from relatively subdued to full-on charismatic in one second flat.

He brilliantly smiles, the sunlight bouncing off his bright teeth. The tone of his voice even changes marginally. It’s smoother, louder and even more confident with a slight hint of arrogance. “Um, well, although I am flattered by the attention, I’m going to have to respectfully decline.” The almost exact answer he gave to Sheena last Saturday night when she told him he received marriage proposals at the race.

I grin at him as he continues to be the public version of Finn Wilder. “I can definitely hook you up with an autograph.” His brown eyes try to appear remorseful with his showy smile, and I bite my smiling lip. He tilts his head and the light from the window changes half of his light brown hair to a blonde. “As for dinner, well, I can’t. I’m taken.”

I feign disappointment and my face falls, as does my arm onto the table. “You are?”

He instantly nods. “I am. I’m dating—no—I’m
living
with my gorgeous girlfriend of three years. I’m completely devoted to her and absolutely crazy about her.” He mirrors my previous pose, resting his chin on his hand and absurdly grinning at me. “She drives me mad with her dresses and short skirts. Her sweet laughter. Her electric touch. Her hopeful green eyes. Her carefree dancing and her loving concern for my safety.” I’ve only worn one dress for him
.
He never will forget me wearing it, either. I’ll definitely have to wear them more often.

He continues, “She kisses all my bruises
. Changes my bandages. Makes me laugh with her stories and jokes. Gives me up-close and personal sponge baths, which I
really
love. Cheers me on when I do senseless things for my job. I’ll do just about anything for that woman.”

Anything…except marry me
.

He blatantly sighs.
“I even visited a boring, old lighthouse with her and eat her flat, lopsided pancakes.”

Laughing, I shake my head and roll my eyes. “Where’d you find this girl? She sounds totally dreadful.”

He bites his lip and waves his hand above the table. “I met her when I was judging a wet T-shirt contest in Pittsburgh.” He looks right at me and gives me a self-satisfied grin. “Now,
that
was a day I’ll never forget.”

I pluck a French fry from my plate and throw it at Finn. It bounces off his chest and down to his plate. He laughs. “Hey!” Picking it up, he pops it in his mouth and grins around his chewing. “What? Don’t you think she won more than just the contest with a prize like me?” He points to himself. “I’m the whole package, sweetheart.” I love when he calls me that.

I have to considerably resist not laughing. “Yes, but a package of
what
exactly?”

Leaning away and crossing his arms over his muscular chest, he contrarily huffs, blowing me off. “Come on. Just look at me. She got the deal of a lifetime when I decided to grace her life with my presence.” He smirks at me, which makes it harder not to laugh, but I succeed.

I take a fry and nibble on it, anything to keep me from smiling, as I look at him thoughtfully. “I’m hoping your wet T-shirt bimbo remembered to save the receipt from that deal.” His grin dejectedly falls, which only amps mine.

I lean over my plate. “And just to let you know, I also have a boyfriend and even though I’m a Finnatic, I’m utterly hooked on him. He takes care of me when I’m sick
. Worries about me living alone in an old building across town. Changes the oil in my car. Supports my career choices. Introduces me to his coworkers in the middle of a work shoot. Buys me pretty jewelry. Rubs my shoulders when I had a bad week. Takes me out for awesome workday lunch breaks. Gets the nickname he gave me tattooed on his chest. Goes with me to see boring, old lighthouses. And he loves me madly.” Finn’s mouth opens and I smile. “He’s the reason I thank God that I broke my wrist.” I sit back and cross my arms, looking him squarely in the eyes. “Beat that. I dare you.”

He blinks and slowly tends over his own plate, his cocky grin subsiding a bit. “My girlfriend is my best friend. She’s the other half of my soul. I tell her everything.”

I blow air out between my teeth.
Yeah, right
. “I doubt that. You’re a very secretive person.” Finn Wilder has more secrets than the CIA.

He shrugs and says, “Maybe I am, but I still told her my deepest, darkest secret.”

We all know what that secret is. Since he didn’t get it tattooed, then he probably has it written on a billboard somewhere, took out an ad in the paper or had it spray painted on that fucking bridge he’s in love with. If he hasn’t done it yet, he will.

The waitress stops to collect our glasses for refills. When she leaves, I raise an eyebrow at Finn. “Your secret: That you’re afraid of marriage?” Old news.

He frowns at me and shakes his head, his sexy hair bouncing. “Not that one.”

Deepest, darkest secret? What the hell?

“What other secrets are there? I hope you’re not keeping a major secret from her.”

He teasingly smirks. “She may not remember when or what I told her, but I do actually tell her my big secret every single time we’re together.” His expression is cunningly doleful. “I guess she doesn’t remember because she undeniably would’ve mentioned that she knew.”

He sits back; a sudden, brash smile spreads over his face. “Match point, Becks.”

I playfully grimace at his arrogant attitude. “Simone is right. You
are
a cagey bastard.” He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms again.

My turn.

Staring at his face with my chin in my hand, I smile sweetly, biding my time, and say, “I took my boyfriend to see a lighthouse because of what I told him about me being his safe harbor. I doubt he noticed, but I wanted to show him one as a literal symbol of my undying commitment to him and my promise to love him forever.”

I cross my arms, reclining against the seat, mimicking his stance.

“Checkmate, Wilder.”