Igniting the Wild Sparks (5 page)

Rod laughs. “
Or
, you can just give him a few weeks in dry dock and then show up at his door in a trench coat, naked underneath, and fuck his brains out. That’d be fun, too.”

We pull into the church’s parking lot and I immediately see Finn’s red Mustang with the two white racing stripes. Rod stops the truck behind
it and I reach for the door handle.

“I’ll pick you up in at 6:30. Be here.”

Feeling like I’m being warned about curfew, I roll my eyes and huff, “I will, Dad.”

“Hey, I’m only trying to help you. That’s what friends do.”

I genuinely smile at him. “And I’m grateful you’re my friend, Rod.”

“Well, you remember that and say a nice prayer for me because you’re driving me absolutely cuckoo.”

“Again, noted.”

Climbing out of the truck and walking to the rear, I
straighten my pale yellow skirt and ocean blue top as Rod pulls away. Finn shuts his door and gives me a peculiar look. What? Did I dress wrong for a Saturday Mass? I guess I forgot to ask what the appropriate attire is.

His car is parked in the shade, so his freshly-washed, sexily wild hair is light brown, but as he walks towards me and into the light, it morphs into the glowing gold that complements his cagey, brown eyes, as do the black and blue plaid shirt and dark blue pants he’s wearing. His key necklace is on display from the top two buttons of his shirt being undone. He also shaved, but he left the side burns and a goatee. I absolutely love it. Forget about Rod’s drooling. I have to stop
myself
from slobbering over Finn Wilder.

I anxiously twirl my hair around my index finger as he meets me at the end of his car. Why am I so nervous? I had put some of my hair into a side barrette in an attempt to do something else with it besides wearing it in a ponytail, as Rod had graciously pointed out.
“You’re here,” he states with a twinge of surprise to his tone, but a smile on his lips.

Smiling in return, I reply,
“I said I would be. Rod will pick me up later.”

His face
succinctly belies his irritation to that news. “Oh. Well, I’m glad you’re here.” His eyes slowly drift over my body and then up to my face again.

Do I look
that
bad? “What?”

Looking into my eyes, his are solemn.
“You’re so beautiful.”

I shyly smile
and retort, “A step up from earlier, at least.”

He slowly
shakes his head. “You were a knock out then, too. I don’t care what you say and I don’t need new glasses or contacts, either.
You’re
always
stunning, Becks.”

I bite the inside of my cheek as I feel embarrassment creeping across my face. I glance fleetingly at the ground and whisper, “Thank you.”

Knowing I don’t believe him, he adds, “I’m not just telling you that. I swear I’d think you were beautiful even if I didn’t know who you were. You’d have me captivated, just as you do now.”

His words
lift my head to look at him, his eyes promptly take hold of mine again, and before I can argue, he firmly interjects, “Don’t, Becks.”

Shutting my mouth, I smile at how well he knows me. However, do I know Finn Wilder as much as he seems to know Hadley Beckett?

I finally say, “You look so handsome, Sparks. I’m especially loving this.” Unthinkingly, I reach up and stroke my fingers over his prickly chin. The feel of his skin zaps through me like a bolt of lightning. Finn’s mouth slightly opens and he rapidly blinks. I speedily drop my hand and glance uncomfortably at his car. Why did I do that? I’m dumber than Rod’s Mr. Rogers remark.

He clears his throat and looks over my head. “We’d better go in.” I give him a nod and a little smile. Putting his hand upon the middle of my back, he
guides me across the parking lot of the cinnamon brown, brick building to the front entrance. As we walk, I notice the numerous, gorgeous stained-glass windows. There are more here than his childhood church.

Dropping his hand
from my back, he cautiously touches my hand with his fingertips and I automatically slide my fingers between his, instantly feeling like I’m home. He tightens his fingers, yet at the same time, I can feel tension melting from him. Lifting our clasped hands, he kisses mine, bringing a smile to my face as I look up at him. I feel his responding smile against my skin, sparking tingles to bubble and spread throughout my body and soul.

We walk through the heavy double doors into the entry area, followed by the large, main room with the pews and altar. The floor is an amazing brick patchwork of multiple earth tones
and the sunlight shining through the painted windows casts a kaleidoscope of colors over the entire room, making the pews look as if they’re strewn with shades of confetti. It’s breathtaking.

Finn abruptly stops at a back pew, releases my hand and kneels down, his right knee touching the floor,
crossing himself before he stands back up. He again grabs ahold of my hand and slides us into the bench aisle. I’m astonished. For one, I don’t remember him doing that at the Vigil. Secondly, the sight of him on bended knee is almost too much for me to handle because I know I’ll never be on the receiving end of that.

Rod’s right again. I’ve
got
to get it together.

Kneeling down
on the bench next to Finn, I take some time to reflect and pray, so it seems is the protocol, as I look to the people around us for cues. I also note that many people are dressed rather casually in jeans, shorts and T-shirts with logos. I like that Finn dressed up a bit for this. It reflects his charming personality, that is, when he’s not drinking his troubles away.

When
I stealthily glance at him, I detect him blankly staring at the altar with his hands clasped and hanging over the back of the pew in front of us. What does Finn Wilder pray for? Safe dares? To be able to jump off that bridge again? For me to make prettier pancakes or to get better acquainted with a tube of lipstick? Maybe for a nationwide ban on kite festivals?

I say a prayer for him. I pray that Finn gets everything he wants out of life—with or without me. I don’t want to tether him from having, or not having, the things he wants most; however, I pray that it
’s me he wants, no matter what.

I pray for my dad. Despite his recent lecture about getting married, he’s still been the best father in the crappiest of circumstances. He could’ve left, too, but he didn’t. I pray for my grandparents, as well.

I pray for Bethany. She’s the sister I never had. I don’t know what I’d do without her.

Next, I pray for Morgan. I’m so thankful for her friendship
and sisterhood, too. I pray for a healthy baby and for a happy marriage for her and Ivan.

I pray for Val. I’m so thankful I have a wonderful boss and friend as her. She’s such a precious jewel to me. I love her like the mom I don’t have.

I pray for Rod and Eden. Eden because of her unfortunate lot in life, and adding the postscript that Greg Rodwell finds happiness with a woman who can tolerate his insolence. God bless whoever that dear soul is.

Shifting up,
Finn sits back on the pew and I swiftly move to join him. Instantaneously, he resituates himself closer to me, pulling my hand onto his lap, and weaving our fingers together again. I cross my legs and he angles his leg against mine, similar to last week, but this time he’s not leaving any space between us. He inclines his head to me, but doesn’t say anything. I can feel his hot breath creeping down my collar. Curious and inappropriately becoming turned on, I angle my head to look at him. His dark eyes snag mine and we stare at each other. I feel his thumb brushing my leg as a trifling, crooked smile lifts the edge of his mouth. Even the tiniest of Finn’s smiles is going to be the death of me.

The Mass proceeds along the lines of Easter, but shorter in comparison. When it comes time to shake hands, Finn pulls me into his arms,
holding me tightly to him, and moving his head to my ear. “Baby, I love you to the stars.” I smile for the time we spent stargazing and the cute trivia he conveyed to me in his mom’s backyard.

“I love you beyond them, Sparks.” I clutch him harder, wanting him so much to feel my love. I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with his memorable scent. We strongly hug, ignoring all others around us, not caring to sha
re in on our own private world.

With less anxiety than last time, I watch Finn take communion. As he does, I gaze at all the beautiful windows adorning the walls. There are so many. It almost seems like the church is made entirely out of stained glas
s. I’d love to marry Finn here.

Nope. There I go daydreaming when I promised myself I wouldn’t do that. I don’t know if the time I’m taking away from him is even going to help me. His engagement ring do
esn’t help my quandary, either.

When Finn returns, again, he leaves no space between us as we kneel, wrapping his arm around me. He unexpectedly dips his head down, his goatee scraping against my skin, as he tenderly kisses the side of my forehead. Goosebumps cover my arms and I lean into him more.

After the service as everyone exits the church, Finn holds me back from leaving with the crowd. People file past us and Finn sits, tugging at my hand to sit down with him.

As he strokes my fingers,
I look into the dark, soulful eyes that I love. “What is it?”

“I just want to sit here with you for a few minutes before you go.” I suppose it’s safe since we’re in a church, and as Rod said, ‘Jesus is watching us.’

I shift to face him and his hand drops from the back of the bench to my bare knee, his fingers lightly grazing my skin. “Thank you for coming. This meant a lot to me.” We smile at each other and my heart unexpectedly skips a beat. “I didn’t feel so alone. I felt whole with you next to me.” Letting go of my hand, he lightly grasps some of my pallid brown hair and tucks it behind my ear as I stare at his face. Mindlessly, my left hand drifts to his upper arm, and even though he’s wearing long sleeves, the surge I feel touching him is ever-present.

I quietly say,
“I love that you can share this with me.” Glancing around, I notice he still has a gentle hold of my hair as I turn my head. “This church is astounding.”

Hearing the smile in his voice, he says,
“I’m glad you like it. I want you to be here with me every week.”

Turning back to Finn,
I nod and smile as my heart continues to accelerate. “I’d love that. That would mean the world to me.”

Finn’s beautiful smile suddenly fails and his gaze darts away from me, as if he’s unsure of what he wants to say. Letting go of my hair and finally looking to me, but slackening the grip he has on my hand, he clears his throat and asks,
“Would it be okay if I make a reservation for a cabin? I’m not sure how far out the waiting list is, so I’d like to do it as soon as possible. If you don’t want to now, that’s fine.”

I squeeze his hand and smile.
“Go ahead and look into it. I want to go away with you.”

“I want to do this so much, Becks. We need time to ourselves with no interruptions, no bombshells dropped, and no younger sister pestering us. We can have time to talk, laugh, take walks, to…” His eyes drift to the altar and he bites his lip. “Fly kites.”

I giggle and move my free hand to stroke his now-smooth jaw. “Yes, we do need time away together. It’ll be nice.”

His
searching eyes are somber. “I really can’t wait, baby. I miss you.”

“I miss you, too, Sparks.” My thumb skates over his skin and his throat bobs as we stare at each other in
peaceful silence.

Finn swallows hard.
“Becks, whatever I can do to fix us, I’ll do it.” It’s not all his fault. It’s mine for not accepting him for who he is and what he wants. He’s made his intentions, or his non-intentions, very clear from the start.

“It’s me I’m trying to fix. I’m just trying to reconcile myself to that. I don’t want to be a never-ending burden for you.”

He sighs and glances around us, his fingers still on my knee lightly dig into my skin. “I’ve said it before, you’re not.” His gaze once more returns to mine. “Ricky told me what you said. I don’t want you giving up on anything. It breaks my heart that I’m breaking yours.”