Deep Surrendering (2 page)

“How many places have you been?” His hand started making its way up and down my arm as the Duck Boat turned into traffic and the tour guide started talking.

Fin didn’t answer for a little while, and I thought maybe he hadn’t heard me, or he was just interested in the little-known facts of Boston.

“I don’t even know, Marisol. I’ve forgotten. It’s all blended together in a haze of hotel rooms and conference rooms and meetings and suits and ties.” He shook his head, and for the first time, he looked downcast.

“So what are you going to do about it?” He pulled me closer as we barreled through the streets.

“I’m going to pay attention to the things that matter. Like this.” His hand went under my chin and pulled my face up. “I’m going to pay attention to you and the way the sun catches the darker streaks in your hair, the pink in your cheeks, and your beautiful eyes. That’s what I’m going to pay attention to. Right here, right now.”

I nearly melted off my seat.

“But you don’t even know me,” I said. This was too much, too fast. Even though I’d been hearing about him from Rory, I still didn’t really know what mattered. The important things. Life was all about the little details.

Like if he was a morning person, what his favorite breakfast cereal was, what song always got stuck in his head, how his relationship was with his mother.

He shrugged one shoulder and pulled my face closer.

“I know that right now I’m paying very close attention to your lips, and I’d like to pay even closer attention to them.” I turned my head at the last moment so he missed and got my cheek.

“I’m sorry,” I said, hoping he wouldn’t hate me. “I have a no-kiss-on-the-first-date rule.” It sounded even worse out loud. I sounded like some sort of stick-up-her-ass prude.

“No kiss on the first date?” Fin said, turning his head to the side as if he was fascinated by me.

“Is that a problem?” God, I hoped not.

He grinned at me and flicked my hair over my shoulder.

“Not at all,” he said, but then he started laughing.

“And what’s so funny?” He shook his head, his shoulders shaking. “Hey. What is so damn funny?” I poked him in the chest.

“Ow!” Now I was laughing as he rubbed the place on his chest where I’d poked him.

“Shh. You’re being rude to the tour guide,” I said, turning away from him and focusing back on the fellow driving our Duck Boat who didn’t seem upset in the slightest that we’d been ignoring him. He could probably do his spiel in his sleep, sans audience.

“In 2010, these vehicles were used to transport flood victims in Wayland, Massachusetts to safety,” the guide said.

“Did you know that in 2010 these vehicles were used to transport flood victims in Wayland to safety?” Fin said, parroting the tour guide.

“No, I did not know that. Thank you for sharing that fact with me, Fin Herald.” I was glad to have a distraction from the kiss conversation. I couldn’t tell how he felt about it, but he didn’t try to kiss me again the whole rest of the tour.

I tried not to scream when we splashed into the water but failed, and Fin held me close. The sun danced off the water, and the harbor bustled with traffic, just like the city streets.

“It’s so beautiful out here,” I said, leaning against Fin as we chugged along. “Are you paying attention to this?” I pointed at the city around us.

“I’m trying to. You’re very distracting.”

“How am I distracting? I’m not doing anything.” Well, I was blushing now.

“How long have you two been together?” asked the tour guide, interrupting what Fin might have said.

“This is our first date, actually,” I said.

“And how’s it going so far?” he said with a grin. I let Fin answer that one.

“Best first date ever,” he said, squeezing my shoulder.

“Aw, give her a kiss now. Come on!” I couldn’t get out of it now.

Fin turned to me.

“We have to do what the man says. He might make us walk the plank if we don’t. How about it?” I had willpower. I had standards that I’d lived up to (for the most part), but all of those things vaporized when Fin smiled at me and cocked one eyebrow.

“What the hell,” I said, and puckered my lips, hoping he would get the hint and just give me a quick peck.

It was the briefest of brief kisses. Before I knew it was happening, it was over.

“There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Fin asked, licking his bottom lip. No, it wasn’t bad. It was just…it was too quick to judge. I needed a second opinion. If we counted last night as a date, then this was technically our second date, and completely in the realm of kiss territory.

“I’m not sure. I think we need to try it again. Later, though. Maybe at the end of the night.” His face broke into a smile.

“What about the no kiss rule?”

I shrugged one shoulder. “Screw it. We’ll call this the second date.”

“Well you know what they say about the third date.” There was a devilish twinkle in his eye.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, even though I knew perfectly well that the rule was that you put out on the third date. Fin leaned close, and I thought he was going to kiss my ear, but he spoke instead.

“They say that on the third date, the girl has to…receive flowers.” He chuckled and his breath on my neck made me shiver. I turned my head to see if he was kidding.

“What kind of flowers?”

“Whatever are her favorite.” I tapped my chin, pretending to think on that.

“Most girls would probably say roses.”

He nodded. “That’s true. Most girls would. But I’m inquiring about one particular girl.”

“Oh, in that case…. Lilacs. Either purple or white. My grandmother had a row of them outside her house and we’d sit in the garden and have tea parties and she’d read to me. When I smell them, it’s like traveling back in time, and I can see her face and hear her voice again.” Fin looked at me for several minutes before he said anything. I’d probably said too much. I wasn’t normally like this. There were things about me even Chloe didn’t know.

“Lilacs it is,” he finally said.

Fin took me to an early dinner at a chic restaurant in the Prudential Center. One of those places with terrible lighting and tiny portions. It wouldn’t have been my first choice, but I didn’t want to make any waves.

“The chef here is supposed to be world class, but I’m not seeing anything that great on the menu,” Fin said, his eyes skipping back and forth. I definitely didn’t see anything I wanted and I wasn’t a very picky eater.

“Oh?” I said, trying to gauge whether he was thinking of leaving, or if we’d stay anyway.

“Yeah. Do you see anything?” I looked around at the place. It was cold and impersonal. Sparse furnishings, poor lighting and oddly shaped chairs that looked like they’d hurt your back. It was supposed to be “modern,” but it came off pretentious.

“Not really.” Honesty was best, right?

He slapped the menu down on the table. “Then what are we doing here?” he asked, pushing his chair, standing and giving me his hand with a smile. “Come with me.”

“Now this, this is perfect,” I said twenty minutes later when we were sitting on a bench in the park, eating fish tacos purchased from one of the many food trucks that seemed to buzz around the city like bees.

“Mobile food is one of the best creations, don’t you think? No reservations, the food is good, and they’re always in a different location.” He bit into his taco, getting a little bit of sauce on his chin.

“You’ve got a little something,” I said, pointing to my own chin to show him where.

“Where? Here?” He pointed to his forehead.

“No, here,” I said, pointing to the spot again.

“Oh, here?” This time he pointed to his cheek, and I realized he wasn’t being dense; he was messing with me.

“No, here,” I said, wiping the spot with my thumb.

“Oh,
there.
I never would have found that spot, thank you.” He seemed very pleased with himself.

I went back to my own taco, praying to any god or goddess that would listen that I wouldn’t spill anything on myself. Things were in my favor as we both finished without any incident and then walked a few streets down to find an ice cream truck for dessert.

“You have a little something here,” Fin said, pointing to his chin. I played along like he had.

“Oh, here? Or how about here?” I pointed to random places on my face until he grabbed my chin and licked the ice cream from my face.

“There.” I froze as I looked deep into his eyes. His eyelashes were short, but they were so thick it almost looked like he was wearing mascara.

“Thank you,” I whispered as his gaze moved from my eyes to my lips. I licked them reflexively. Just before I realized I had ice cream running down my arm.

“Uh,” I said, laughing a little as I realized he had ice cream on his arm, too. Luckily he’d pushed up his sleeves so he didn’t ruin his shirt, but still. We both had ice cream all over. I couldn’t help staring at him. What was it about a man’s forearm that was so seductive?

“Let me get some napkins,” he said, handing me the still-melting ice cream to hold. He came back with a huge stack of napkins and proceeded to try to clean my arm and eat his ice cream at the same time.

“Ahhh,” he said, squinching his face up. “Brain freeze.” I burst out laughing and ended up dropping both cones.

“Aw, I guess that’s the end of that,” I said. We finished cleaning up, but my arms were still sticky. I hoped Fin didn’t notice.

“Well, the ice cream was a bit of a fail. Let’s go for bowls next time instead of cones?” Fin said as we strolled down the street.

“Next time?”

“Of course. Didn’t we already talk about the third date? The flowers? Ice cream or gelato in a bowl is also part of the third date.” He said it as if it was a statement of fact.

“Are these rules written down somewhere? Can I get a copy?”

He stopped me in the street and kissed my chin, just barely avoiding my lips. “I’ll work on it for you.”

I didn’t want the date to end, but end it had to. Carl drove us back to my apartment and stopped the car, but Finn grabbed my arm to stop me from getting out. “You know how at the end of the first date, there’s that moment when you say goodbye and you have to decide if you really want the date to end?”

Usually on my first dates, I had to avoid being kissed, or groped, or agreeing to a second date. Just thinking about it reminded me of how many terrible first dates I’d been on. There had been some good ones, my last boyfriend Ben being one of the exceptions. I still missed him, but it had been one of those situations where he loved me more than I loved him, and I stayed with him for longer than I should have. He was off in Texas now working for a tech company.

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, I was wondering how you would feel about this date not ending? At least not ending right now. I’d…like to spend some more time with you,” he said, stroking the bare skin on my arm and causing my skin to ripple with goosebumps. “But if you want to call it a night, that’s also fine.” His hand left my skin, and I almost grabbed it to bring it back. No one had touched me like that in a while, and I hadn’t known how much I craved it until I got a little taste of it again.

I didn’t want to say goodnight. Not yet.

“I’d like to spend some more time with you, Fin.” He exhaled and smiled.

“I was hoping you’d say that. I know I said if you wanted to call it a night, you could, but I probably would have spent a lot of time convincing you otherwise.” His hand went back to my arm, dancing up to my shoulder and then down to my hand, and then, after a pause, to my thigh. Oh. Was that where we were going?

I must have flinched just a tiny bit because his hand withdrew.

“I’m not asking you to spend the night with me like that, Marisol. We can do whatever you’re comfortable with. I’ll behave.” His eyes sparked. “Or, I’ll
try
to behave. But I think I would enjoy you punishing me.”

My entire body went hot and then cold and then hot again at his words and their underlying meaning. He knew exactly what he was implying.

Part of me thought that it would be a wise idea to get out of the car and call it a night.