Mary's voice broke the glorious dream Emily lavished in.
Except it wasn't a dream.
Even though her eyes were closed, this was better than any memory or illusion she'd deluded herself with in the past. Tucked into Finn, squished against his long lines, her hand pressed over his beating heart was a dream come true. Like the first time she'd kissed him, and every time after that, delight swelled in her heart, overriding sense or reason.
This was where she'd longed to return to since the day they'd kissed goodbye at the bus station in Bridgetown that summer. She'd promised she could survive without his kisses for seven days. Instead, she'd had to try to exist without him for almost a decade.
Eight years slipped away in seconds. Heat from his touch branded her, his grip rooting her to him. There was no place she'd rather be. The hunger in his kiss nourished her. As their mouths danced to the same rhythm, Emily's body came alive, her heart pounding, her skin no longer cold but aflame, her soul singing with joy. Finn's lips were dry but warm and welcoming as he asked for more of her. She gladly gave everything to him.
For eternity and forever, if she had her way, Emily would have luxuriated in the solid form of the man she loved, holding him once again. Nothing could break her away from him.
Except Mary.
"I'm..." Emily tried to ignore Mary and everything outside of the bubble of Finn, continuing to let her skin absorb every touch of him. But his muscles tensed and her world crashed. Reality surgedin like a wave. She wasn't standing at a bus station kissing Finn, her boyfriend goodbye. Or hello. She stood in her Aunt's hospital room, kissing Petty Officer Finn, a witness in her case.
Cheeks that had flamed with passion, now burned with shame. She tried to pry her fingers from his shirt, but they refused to move, refusing to let go of him.
"Emily." Her older sister's reprimanding tone belied her harsh whisper. "Dad's right behind me."
Finn's hands slipped from her hair, and he inched backward. The cool air conditioning of the hospital room nipped at her heated skin with the loss of him. Light flooded the white room as her eyelids opened and he came into focus. His profile turned from her, eyes cast down and away, lips that had been so welcoming moments ago, pressed into a tight, thin line.
The elation from a moment ago shattered into a million pieces and lay broken at her feet. She stifled a sob from the sudden pain flooding the into the cavern left in her chest. The familiar ache of Finn's rejection. To try to gain composure, she spun away from him and her sister and through blurry vision, she willed herself not to cry.
Emily's gaze landed on her aunt lying in the hospital bed. Time had been kind to her aunt and Emily tended to forget the woman, who had lost her own husband early in life, was vulnerable as well.
Her aunt, lying helpless and hurt, dredged up memories of seeing her mother wasting away in a hospital bed. In her last days, her mother had asked Emily to act as guardian to her sisters.
"They'll need your strength." Her mother's voice was too weak for anything above a whisper.
Back then the promise seemed easy. Emily loved her sisters. She'd be honoured to follow in her mother's footsteps. But the commitment was overwhelming for a girl of seventeen to adhere to. No one could have predicted the changes the death of Lucy Montgomery would cause.
Mary's transformation shocked everyone. Her once carefree and affectionate sister retreated from life, locking herself in her bedroom in the lake house, sleeping for days on end. When she finally emerged, a bitter streak Emily hadn't known had existed in her sister marred her personality and stained her soul. Smart remarks had always been a trait of Mary's, but now the biting commentary turned vicious, and no one was good enough for her snooty new attitude.
A part of her father had simply disappeared, along with his self-control. Without her mother's guiding hand, Phillip flitted away the family fortune, lavishing himself and his daughters with whims and desires, maybe trying to fill a void. Where Emily attempted to encourage moderation, Mary encouraged her father's indulgences, especially when they aligned with her desires.
Emily hadn't approved of his most ambitious venture, a bid to run for governor, but had hoped the endeavour would provide her father with purpose. Eager that Philip Montgomery was in the race for the right reasons, wanting to help the residents of his state. Instead, it became clear early on he was only chasing the prestige and power of the office. The failed attempt drained their coffers past a point of no return.
Then there was little Beth. What started as minor rebellions, skipping a class here and there, arriving home a half an hour past curfew, turned serious when their father caught her high with a group of older boys after stealing his car. Their father's solution had been to send her to Japan for the summer to live with Aunt E.
Eventually, Aunt E couldn't handle her, and Emily had been sent for to provide additional support. Emily had resisted leaving, then tried to delay her departure until at least Finn was back in town. Her protests and pleas were ignored, tickets had been purchased and her aunt needed her. Under duress, Emily had left Bridgetown and Finn.
By the time she returned to the seaside resort town, Finn was gone. On a cold gray morning, standing outside the Waterfront Bar and Grill, his brother Simon had held her as he broke the news. The bleak light peeking over the dew sodden rooftop. The handle of her suitcase no use as support to stop herself from falling to her knees. Simon speaking senseless words, nothing having meaning past "He's gone."
Executing his original plan to join the Navy, Finn had taken a bus to Washington. A week earlier. With no way to contact him, Emily had to live with the consequences of her actions.
Just like now. She'd let emotions cloud her judgement. Let the passion ignited by Finn's hand, fingers wrapped around hers, addle her brain.
Emily's defences broke and Finn offered an anchor in the storm, like he had eight years ago.
In need of comfort, Finn had been kind. In his arms, she felt at peace. For the first time in a long time. Nothing else in the world mattered except the rhythm of his heart, tapping out her favourite music. Warmth enveloped her. She felt safe; protected.
She should have been satisfied with the gesture, the support he showed in holding her. Taken what Finn gave and left it there. Not pushed things. But his lips had been right there. Lips she longed to kiss.
What must Finn think of her?
It was bad enough she had practically attacked him, clinging to his body like a spider monkey. But then her senses left, flew out the door and she had forced herself on him. She kissed him.
How could she have done it?
Just a few feet from her, Finn now looked sour, tense lines etched in his face. Mary, who had found them, glared at him. Adding to the circus, Beth holding Ben and her father tumbled into the room.
"Who's this?" demanded her father, studying Finn from head to toe and then back again.
"Dad, you remember Finn Wainwright. He..." Emily found herself holding the small charm at her neck. "He gave me a ride."
"How could anyone forget the busboy from The Waterfront Bar and Grill?" Mary snorted and crossed her arms. A deep groove appeared between their father's brows. "Hint, dad, the boy who hung around Emily in Bridgetown the summer before she went to university?" A snarl snuck across her mouth. "The one you said she was too good for?"
Finn's tall frame straightened, rigid and alert. The reaction seemed to please Mary and Emily cast aside her tears, stepping forward.
"It's Petty Officer Wainwright now, dad. He's in the Navy, serving our country. Something no one in this family would know anything about." Emily winced as her father's eyes bulged and his mouth opened to say something. She dreaded what might come out, but a woman in a white lab coat pushed her way past them all and stood at the foot of the hospital bed.
"Sir. " Finn jutted a hand forward to shake their father's hand. "I'm sorry about your sister." Her father glanced at the hand like it was toxic and Finn retracted the gesture.
The middle-aged woman with ebony hair and dark skin gave the group an annoyed grimace. "Two visitors at a time. Maximum. Family only." Her stern but hushed tone garnered everyone's attention. "The rest – out. Now."
Mary and Beth practically ran from the room. Finn followed, and Emily instinctively trailed behind him, anxious to explain her actions. Apologize.
"Emily," her father hissed, "Where are you going? Your aunt needs you."
Her feet froze on the threshold. Across the hall, Beth bounced Ben up and down in her arms, gnawing on her lip, and Mary leaned against the wall, glaring at Finn. Emily could tell Mary was gearing up to speak her mind and there was no doubt insults aimed at Finn were bursting to get out.
At Emily's hesitation, Finn twisted to regard her. A strange, haunting expression on his face caused the lump in Emily's throat to threaten to cut off her oxygen supply.
"Did you hear me, Emily?" Her father's incredulous tone crawled down Emily's back.
An ocean of blue stared back, causing her already thumping heart to skip a beat. Every fiber yearned to go to Finn. Explain about the kiss. Shield him from Mary's impending insults, do something.
It was no use. Family duty pressed against her desires. She relented, stepping back into the room. The doctor closed the door, blocking out the happenings in the hall.
Emily's family always needed her.