Worth the Weight Page 4

  Finn had been one of those lucky few. He’d known the softness of her skin past the second button. Known the deeper thoughts that went past her friendly exterior.

  It’d been a huge hassle getting free to be here, but seeing her made it worthwhile. He hadn’t outright lied to Annie, but he’d certainly omitted some facts. Even saying something as innocent as having dinner with an old friend who was in town for a short time would have sent Annie into a tailspin. If she whiffed the smallest scent of Finn’s true feelings toward Liz, she would have gone into a full-blown tantrum.

  The thought jarred him. Just what did he mean his true feelings about Liz? This was just going to be a one shot deal, right?

  He continued to watch as Liz stopped at a table halfway through the restaurant. A man got up from his table and pulled Liz into a huge hug, then held her out at arm’s length, as if soaking in the sight of her. Finn’s eyes narrowed as he had a flash of jealousy. It quickly left when he got a better look at the white-haired man who hugged Liz. He was sixty if he was a day. Certainly Liz wasn't into old men.

  A fleeting notion of just what kind of men Liz was into went through him. Why would she have never married? She was into guys, right? She sure had been back then.

  But that can sometimes change. Was that the reason she’d never married? She’d switched teams? Nah, she’d definitely come on to him the other night at the Mine Shaft. It’d been a long time for him, but not so long that he didn’t know when a woman wanted him.

  Still, a sense of dread eased its way into his neck. Liz was so nice, she’d be the type to give you a hug and want to catch up with someone she hadn’t seen in so long. Maybe he was wrong and that’s all this was to her. A chance to catch up with an old boyfriend, then back to Detroit to her lesbian lover. Although he’d definitely file the vision of Liz making love with another woman away to pull out some lonely night, he didn’t believe it to be true.

  His doubts were eased as Liz finally made it to their table and flashed him a killer smile.

  Her smile was warm and genuine, like Liz herself, but it didn’t say, “Gee, it’s good to see you”. No, the smile Liz flashed said, “I want to eat you up with a spoon”. Which suited him just fine, and he hoped to fulfill her unspoken wish by the end of the night.

  “Hey there,” she said as she reached him. Calm, cool, like she saw him everyday. He half expected her to comment on the weather or some such bullshit.

  There was an awkward second, and they both looked at their feet while they wondered if a hug, handshake or a simple smile should be their greeting. Then their eyes met. Eighteen years fell away and it was his Liz, whose eyes had always seen him with an integrity and strength he could only hope to aspire to.

  His Liz, who didn’t even realize that she was above him in all things, but looked at him with an adoration which both humbled and aroused him.

  Always had.

  He guessed it always would, because there she was looking at him in the same way, and all of Finn’s thoughts about keeping this thing casual went out the window.

  He pulled her into his embrace and held her. Just held her. Her arms encircled his waist and she stepped closer to him, laid her head on his chest and breathed in the scent of him. She’d always done that. It’d made him self-conscious at first, wondering if he hadn’t showered off the smell of horses entirely before their dates.

  She breathed in deeply once more then pulled away, looking into his eyes. A small, teasing smile played on her face. “You still wear Brut. I didn’t know they even still sold that stuff.”

  He nodded, mesmerized by her. By her smile, her apparently stellar sense of smell, but mostly by her memory of him. He had meant enough to her that she remembered his scent. They had only dated for a few months eighteen years ago and she remembered how he smelled? Had anyone else in his life ever known him like that? He wasn’t sure that even his ex-wife would know him if blindfolded. Hell, his childhood dog probably couldn’t even sniff him out.

  “But no horses? Don’t you still have horses?”

  “Huh?” His moment of self-pity made him lose her drift.

  “You always smelled of Brut and horses. But, no horses tonight. Do you still have them?”

  “No. No horses. I sold them all.” He didn’t elaborate. How could he even begin to tell her about the horses? How his heart broke and the last of his dreams drifted into the dust that the trailer hauling away his joy kicked up. How he’d had no choice, not really, but the day he signed the bill of sale, a little piece of him had died.

  He had precious few pieces left.

  It was as if she knew he couldn’t talk about it, seemed to sense the precarious place he was in just thinking about the loss of his horses.

  Still entwined in his arms, Liz once again gave his waist a squeeze, and all Finn could do was hug her again.

  It wasn’t a friendly hug. It was a hug of lovers.

  One could hope.

  It seemed like forever, but was probably only seconds, before he got hold of himself, broke the embrace and seated her across from him in the booth.

  “So I always smelled like horses, eh? Nice of you to tell me. You know, I would shower before I’d pick you up,” he teased.

  She lowered her head and laughed. That deep, gut busting, laugh that he’d recognized after years apart. She raised her head, her black hair falling back into place, and her soft hazel eyes met his as her laughter died away, leaving her mouth in a sweet smile. “It’s good to see you, Finn. I’m glad I… ran into you.” Her eyes darted away, as if admitting it was more than she wanted to reveal.

  He reached across the scarred wooden table, carved with lovers’ names of long ago, and took her hand. It was cool and soft and fit into his larger one with ease. “I’m glad, too, Liz. Hell, at least one good thing came of working at that god-awful job. Imagine the odds of you coming into that theater while I was working.”

  “Yes, that was quite a coincidence,” she ducked her head again, not meeting his eyes. Something he said seemed to register with her and she asked, “Why would you say ‘imagine the odds’? Aren’t you there most nights?”

  “Well, I’ve been there a lot lately, but I’ve only been back at the theater for six months.”

  “Oh, not since when we dated?”

  Did she really think he’d done nothing but hawk popcorn to kids for the last eighteen years? God, what kind of loser did she think he was? And if she did, why was she out with him? He tried to mask his disappointment in Liz’s low opinion of him.

  “No, Liz, I haven’t been working at the Mine Shaft all this time. Believe it or not, I was able to tear myself away from the glory of concession stands for a few years.” He chuckled as he said it, but Liz picked up on the anger in his voice.

  “Well, I didn’t assume anything. Anyway, what would be wrong with you working at the Mine Shaft all this time? I always thought it was a dream job. See every movie, all the popcorn you can eat...what’s not to like?”

  “Yeah, for a sixteen year old kid, maybe.” He was grateful she didn’t mention that he’d been twenty when he’d worked there.

  “So what have you been doing all these years?” What was probably mere curiosity in her tone sounded like accusation to Finn and he inwardly bristled. He didn’t have to justify himself to Liz Hampton or anyone else. The choices he’d made were ones that were thrust upon him, and he figured he’d probably do them all again if he had to.

  Except for Dana. He’d definitely choose differently there. Of course, Dana hadn’t really been a choice at all. More like a sentence handed down from some unknown jury.

  He let the feeling slide as a waitress approached their booth to take their drink order.

  “Bud in a bottle,” Finn said and Lizzie nodded her head, indicating the same for her.

  He picked up the menus between them and handed one to Lizzie. “Do you want to order right away?”

  She pushed her menu to the side of the table, away from her. “No, I’m not that hungry. May
be we could just have a beer and talk for a while? Get something to eat a little later?”

  “That’s fine. Whatever you want.” He made eye contact with her as he said the last, trying to get them back on track. Back to where they were after their initial hug, not to the weird place that bringing up the horses and his working at the theater had taken them.

  “Whatever you want, Liz.” He dropped his menu and took her hand again. He emphasized the “whatever”, trying to make his intentions known. It’d been a while since he’d flirted, but he figured it was like riding a bike.

  He must not have lost his touch completely, because he saw a slow blush rise from her neck to her cheeks. The color made her look about sixteen years old. And innocent. Still innocent. It had driven him crazy with want back then, and if the tightening in his groin was any indication, it still did.

  The waitress approached, carrying two bottles. She put down their drinks, realized they wouldn’t be ordering anytime soon, and quickly left.

  He took his beer in his free hand and tapped the neck of it against the top of Lizzie’s bottle in a toast. “Here’s to getting to know each other again,”

  “Yes. Here’s to getting to know each other again.” She raised the bottle to her lips and drank. No sissy sip for his Liz. You can take the girl out of da Yoop, but you can’t take da Yoop out of the girl. No sir, she took a good sized gulp that left her sexy lips wet. He could barely draw his eyes away from them.

  He tried to focus on what she’d just said. “To tell you the truth, Liz, I’m surprised to hear you say that.”

  She looked confused. “Say what?”

  “Say that you’re glad to see me, that you look forward to getting reacquainted. You know, we didn’t end on such a good note.” His voice was cautious, feeling her out.

  “That’s true, but it was a long time ago. We were just kids.”

  “Yeah. Kids.”

  “Besides, I forgave you a long time ago. Life’s too short to hold grudges,” she said with a conviction that almost sounded rehearsed.

  “You forgave me? For what?”

  “For dumping me because I wouldn’t sleep with you.”

  “That’s not how I remember it, Liz.” His voice was soft, controlled, his eyes held hers.

  “That’s exactly how I remember it. What’s your spin on the whole thing?”

  “First of all, I don’t ‘spin’ things, that’s for you big city folks. Second of all, I didn’t dump you because you wouldn’t sleep with me. I broke up with you because you were just about to sleep with me.”

  She took in his statement, mentally chewed on it, then spat it out at him. “That’s bull. I wasn’t about to sleep with you.”

  “Oh yeah you were.”

  The normally articulate Liz could only come back with, “Nah-unh.”

  “We were close, Liz. Remember? Your resistance had just about crumbled, it wouldn’t have taken too many more nights down at the beach to get you to cave.”

  She looked away from him and took her hand back, as if stung. Stung by the truth. She wouldn’t admit it, but she knew he was right.

  “You’re right.” She said it so quietly, he wasn’t sure he’d heard her.

  “What?”

  She looked back at him, her cute little chin held up high. “I said, you’re right. It probably wouldn’t have taken many more nights at the beach. I was getting pretty desperate by the end of those evenings.”

  He couldn’t help but let out a little snort. “You were getting pretty desperate? I think we well established that the rumor you could die from blue balls was untrue. Never had a man gone home so unsatisfied so often and been able to walk the next day.”

  She winced, as if feeling the pain that he would endure on those nights. No way she could imagine how bad it had been.

  “I didn’t understand then how much... ah... pressure you felt when we’d be together.”

  “Pressure? Geez, Liz, you had me hard from the moment I’d pick you up right through to dropping you off. Gran never could understand why I’d shower right before a date with you, then need to run to the shower as soon as I got home. Thank God for loud showers and lots of soap.”

  Her curiosity won out over her embarrassment and she asked, “Lots of soap?”

  As always, he was amused by her innocence. “Lots of lather, makes the hands very slick, able to...you know... a lot quicker.” And as always, he wanted to educate her, but not be too crude with her.

  He knew the moment she got it. The pink on her neck and cheeks turned a crimson red. “I don’t know what to say. Do I apologize for that? Sending you home in that state?” She had a teasing lilt to her voice and he was happy to see that he hadn’t turned her off with his blunt talk. On the contrary, her eyes seemed to shine.

  “No need for apologies, I know that you went home pretty stirred up, too. I made sure of that.”

  “Yes I did, and I...” she cut herself off.

  “You what?” She shook her head and Finn put a coaxing tone in his voice, “Come on Liz, it’s just two old friends talking. You, what?”

  “I’d go home pent up, and I didn’t even know how to take care of myself like you did.” He slowly smiled, but was blown away when she added, “Then.”

  The thought of Liz taking care of business herself made his cock jerk. Damn, but he’d like to see that.

  Slow down, boy, don’t scare her off.

  “So, wait, let’s back up,” she said. He dragged his mind from the image forming of Liz on white cotton sheets, her black hair a stark contrast on the pillow, her hands moving down her own body as he watched.

  “Back up where?”

  “You said you broke up with me because I was about to sleep with you. I grudgingly acknowledge that’s true. So why break up with me, you were about to hit the jackpot.”

  “I never thought of your virginity as some prize to win, like a stuffed animal at some carnival game.”

  She raised an eyebrow, in disbelief.

  “Well, okay, maybe I did.”

  She gave him a small smile. “So why, then?”

  “I don’t know? I guess I had some misguided notion that you’d hate me later. Or that I’d be bringing you down to my level or something. You’d just turned eighteen… what can I say, I was a twenty-year-old kid! I was totally fucked up.”

  She took that in and slowly nodded. She seemed to understand. Or she was letting the point go for now, he wasn’t sure which. He decided to get clear of these dangerous waters before he went down a final time. She must have thought the same thing, because she was the one who ultimately changed the subject.

  “Is your grandmother still living?”

  He nodded while he took another swig of his beer. “Yes. She’s getting up there, but you’d never know it from her attitude. She’s a great lady, I owe her more than I’ll ever be able to repay.” His voice turned soft, almost tender, as it always did when he spoke of Gran.

  “I always liked her.”

  “She liked you too.”

  “We only met a couple of times.” She seemed dubious.

  “She liked you. She thought you were good for me.” There was a long pause as they both let that sink in.

  “So, what have you been doing these past eighteen years? You were going to State, right?”

  She nodded as she drank from the beer bottle and he was again mesmerized by the sight of her moist lips wrapped around the head of the long neck bottle. He shifted in his seat and put his napkin in his lap.

  After she swallowed she answered him. “Yes. State. I lived with Alison and Katie.” At his blank look she elaborated, “They were with me at the movie the other night?” He nodded in comprehension and motioned for her to go on as he took a drink from his beer. “I got my degree in Communications, moved to Detroit, where I got on with a Public Relations firm. Four years later I opened my own firm. It’s doing pretty well.”

  He put his bottle down, sat back and said, “That’s it?”

  Chapter Fourr />
  √ Leave Petey another voice mail

  √ Email Zeke

  √ Call Sybil

  Lizzie was slightly miffed. How dare he reduce her life’s work to “that’s it?” How could this guy possibly know what kind of courage and determination it had taken her to break free from the stability of an established firm and hang her own shingle?

  But then, what did she expect from a guy who’s main job consisted of scraping candy off theater floors. No, that wasn’t fair. There was obviously more to Finn’s story.

  But for now the spotlight was on her.

  “Well, I’d hardly say ‘that’s it’. Opening my own firm was a pretty risky step. I did have some friends who I knew would come on board as clients, but still...” She was cut off as he held up his hand for her to stop.

  “Whoa. I didn’t mean to diminish your professional achievements. I’m not surprised that you’re doing well for yourself. In fact, I would have been surprised at anything less than you owning your own business. The ‘that’s it’ meant you didn’t say a word about anything other than business. Surely there’s some personal life stuff to tell after all these years?”

  “What do you mean?” she asked. She took just a second to bask in how matter-of-fact he was about her being successful. Like there was never any doubt in his mind.

  “Well, you said the other night that you never married. Were you engaged? Do you have children? Live-in boyfriend? Tell me something about you.”

  How could she possibly explain to him what the last fifteen years had been for her? The feelings of shame that putting weight on had brought her. Blocking out feelings. That opening her own business had been a distraction of sorts so that she wouldn’t have to deal with anything personal. How do you relate the stuff that took you the last three years to figure out, over a bottle of Bud?

  You don’t. She’d just tell him something smooth and be done with it. He had no more interest in knowing about her foibles and triumphs in the past than she did of knowing his.

  But she was interested in Finn’s past. Why he married at twenty-three? Why he was divorced? And what had happened to his horses?