CHAPTER 24

DAY 41

AN: Please leave a review and let me know your thoughts on the progression of the story.

Saturday

STEPH POV

The rest of the week passed in a blur. Finn increased the intensity of my workouts… again. So far, I'd been able to meet every challenge, even when he introduced knife fighting basics. It was incredibly intimidating. I couldn't imagine myself fighting someone with a knife in real life. Still, I was committed to learning everything he wanted to teach me.

There was one area that I struggled in. The ruck march. It was my least favorite part of training. As of now, I was expected to march six miles while carrying twenty pounds on my back. By the time boot camp was over, I'd probably be able to walk all the way to California carrying everything I owned and think nothing of it.

When I wasn't training, we worked on getting a plot of land ready to plant a vegetable garden. It was hard work and surprisingly fun. Maybe I was evolving into someone who might want to eventually put down my own roots. It was something to consider. Imagining Finn harvesting what we planted brought me joy even though I wouldn't be here to share it with him.

In between planting, I helped Finn cut up a tree that had been struck by lightning during the storm. While I stacked the firewood, occasionally Finn would look up from the roaring chainsaw, and my insides would swirl with so many emotions that I couldn't pin just one. The only thing I was sure of was that when I left here, it was going to hurt. And not just me.

At the end of each exhausting day, I crawled into Finn's bed and let him massage my aching body, which usually led to more interesting activities. Each morning I awoke with a smile and a little extra pep in my step. Sex with Finn was amazing. Maybe it had to do with how comfortable I felt with him. Or maybe it was because we were all alone up here, away from the outside world. Or maybe it was because neither of us held the other to certain expectations, and there was a time limit on us. Whatever the reason, I was determined to enjoy it while I could.

I've also realized that with a little instruction I was good at cooking, and kinda enjoyed it. I'd convinced myself I had no talent for it, but I guess I hadn't been motivated to learn. Subconsciously, I feared I'd end up stuck at home in the kitchen like my mother if I learned to cook. A fate worse than death. But I could choose to cook and please myself. It really was that simple.

Finn also showed me how to securely clear a room. I'd seen Ranger and his men do this, so I had a basic idea, but Finn explained the reasons behind each action. We even took turns being the intruder hiding while the other swept the cabin. It dawned on me that things might have been different if Ranger had taken the time to teach me instead of just doing things for me. Finn made me promise that when I got home, I would be diligent about security. He was preaching to the choir. Someone like Durant would never get the jump on me again.

When Finn brought out the zip ties to teach me how to free myself from them, I flashed back to the cellar and how Durant had used them to restrain me to the bed while he did stuff to me. Maggie must have felt me gearing up for a serious panic attack because she stuck by my side, offering comfort. I got through the lesson and learned a few nifty tricks. Like how handy it was to keep a razor blade hidden under the sole of my shoes in case I was bound with rope or plastic zip ties. Finn showed me a cool website with all kinds of safety gadgets hidden in ways that didn't draw attention to them. Who knew they had handcuff keys that attached to your shoelaces and zippers?

The most useful item he showed me was a paracord watch/bracelet. The basic design was pretty, but it sort of looked like a craft that a child made, which Finn explained was good because a bad guy would have no reason to suspect useful tools were hiding inside or think, this looks valuable, I think I'll steal it. The neat thing about it was how the watch face flipped open to reveal a compass and LED pen light. What really sold me was the handcuff key, whistle, flint striker, and knife molded into the buckle clasp. Best of all, it was waterproof.

Finn ordered the watch and a few aglet handcuff keys for me. I was a little worried that Hector's feelings might be hurt when he saw the watch because he'd given me a sports watch with GPS right before I left. Maybe his feelings would be smoothed if I agreed to let him add GPS to my new watch. I didn't have a problem with him tracking me as long as he was the only one to have access to my movements and because he asked for permission.

After sparring with Finn this morning, I was so hot and sweaty that I was tempted to jump in the lake to cool off but settled on a shower instead. I'd stuck my feet in the lake last night, and although it was warming, it was still too cool for swimming. After dressing in a pair of cut off's and a tank, I was on my way to the kitchen when Finn came inside. He must have showered downstairs because his hair was still damp, and he wore a different pair of shorts and a t-shirt.

"Come on. There's something I want to show you." He was smiling from ear to ear, proud of himself for something, and I couldn't wait to see what it was.

"Do I need to change?"

He looked me up and down and breathed deeply to quell his interest. "You're good." He grabbed my hand and pulled me outside. My flip-flops flapped against my heels as I tried to keep up.

"Where are we going?" I laughed.

"You'll see," he called over his shoulder as we made our way down to the dock. He handed me a life vest as he boarded the boat and helped me on after him. A thrill went through me. I hadn't been on a boat since I was a little girl when my dad's friend invited us to their place on Lake Hopatcong.

While he took up his position behind the steering wheel, I sat in front of him. We headed west, the wind whipping my hair as the boat bounced on the water. My eyes were peeled as I explored new territory. I noticed a handful of cabins miles apart and set back in the woods for privacy. No other boaters were on the lake.

An island came into view, much larger than the one I rowed my kayak around. I twisted to find Finn smiling at my excitement. He circled the island so I could see it from every angle before slowing. Large trees, bushes, and beautiful wildflowers poked through the grass. It was a private paradise, untouched by civilization.

He tied the boat to a tree that looked to be growing out of the water. "Go on," he said, holding me steady while I used the tree trunk to pull myself up onto the grassy bank. He lifted the seat I'd been sitting on and pulled out a backpack and blanket. A warm feeling settled in my chest when I realized he'd planned a picnic for us.

We spread the blanket beneath the canopy of a large Maple tree and sat down. Finn pulled a bottle of white wine and two glasses out of his backpack. After pouring each of us a glass, he pulled out two bowls of leftover pasta salad topped with grilled chicken strips and a bowl of grapes and strawberries.

I sighed in contentment as I opened my bowl of pasta salad and took a bite. "I haven't been on a picnic since high school."

"Oh, yeah." His brows quirked up in interest, encouraging me to spill. "Sounds like there's a story there."

"Not really," I shrugged, "just a stupid girl who got swept up in a summer romance." I looked across the water, losing myself in the painful memories of my youth. After what had happened at the Tasty Pastry the year before when Morelli played me by making me believe he had feelings for me when all he really wanted was in my pants, and then later being brutally violated by Mason Treadwell, I thought I'd never be interested in having a boyfriend or being in love. It wasn't until the following summer, when I met Ian that my experience with the opposite sex changed. He made me believe in the possibility of happiness—for a time—but he turned out to be just as bad as Morelli.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

I shook off the distant memories and gave Finn a sanitized version of what had happened. "My best friend Mary Lou and I spent the entire summer before our Senior year at the shore. We stayed with my grandparents at their beach rental for a few weeks, and when they left, Mare's parents came and then mine. It was one of the best summers of my life."

"Your tone tells me it wasn't as perfect as you make it sound. What happened?"

"The usual. Girl meets boy. Girl falls in love with boy. Boy ends up breaking his promises… and her heart." I stopped picking at the blanket's loose thread and looked up at Finn. He was listening attentively, so I continued. "Ian McLeary was the typical hot surfer guy with sun-streaked hair and the sexiest dimples you've ever seen. I hadn't seen him since fifth grade when his family moved away, but I recognized him right away."

"Do I need to kick this Ian McLeary's ass?"

"You're about fifteen years too late." I laughed and took a sip of wine. "For spending money, I worked at the hotdog stand on the boardwalk. He'd come up to my counter every day and give me the cheesiest pickup lines. He could barely say them without laughing. I would roll my eyes at his juvenile behavior even though it was endearing and funny. After a couple weeks, he wore me down, and I agreed to go to the arcade with him."

"What was the line that got you?"

I thought about it for a second and shook my head, laughing. "It was something like… If you were a chicken, you'd be impeccable."

"A real charmer with the ladies, I see." Finn held his side, chuckling so hard he fell over. Getting himself under control, he picked up a strawberry and held it to my lips. "He's got style. I'll give him that."

"He's not the only one with style," I teased, biting into the offered strawberry. Finn stayed quiet, and I realized he was waiting for me to continue. "At the end of the summer, Ian told me he was going back home to California to convince his parents to let him live with his grandma and finish school with me in Trenton, but I never saw him again."

"Yup. He definitely needs his ass kicked. I might have to make a quick trip to California."

It was my turn to chuckle at his chivalry. "Looking back, I feel silly thinking his parents would let him move across the country without them. But at the time, my heart wasn't willing to understand." I was curious about Finn's past and all the hearts he'd probably broken, but I didn't want to remind him about his deceased wife. He'd gone out of his way to make this a nice day, so I refocused the conversation. "Enough about me and my young heartbreak. Have I told you what I thought the day I walked in on you coming out of the downstairs bathroom wrapped only in a towel?"

He leaned so close I could feel his breath on my cheek and fed me another strawberry. "Now, this sounds like an interesting story. Do tell."

"While I stared at you like an imbecile, rattling on about popsicles, my mind was busy imagining what was underneath that towel."

"Did I live up to your expectations?"

"Oh, yes!" I placed my wine glass on the ground and tackled him onto his back, kissing him for all I was worth. His hand joined mine as I reached for the hem of his t-shirt. In seconds we had it over his head and lying on the grass. He was a quintessential mountain man, and I loved his raw manliness. My lips found his again as my hand swept down his chest, stopping to pay particular attention to each ridge and valley. It was my form of torture. I felt wicked and powerful doing this in the open, even though no one was around. "Take them off," I said, tugging at the waistband of his shorts.

"We can't." When I gave him a confused look, he added, "I didn't bring a condom."

I stared at him, my shorts halfway down my hips, and blinked. Then I started laughing. Between fits of laughter, I managed to point out the irony. "You brought a condom to a sparring match but not on a secluded picnic?"

His face split into a grin, and he laughed, too.

"You'll learn." I playfully patted his chest and smiled wickedly as I slid my hand under his waistband and wrapped my fingers around his cock, giving it a firm squeeze. He groaned and lifted his hips off the ground. I slid his shorts down his hips and set about tormenting him mercilessly. With each gentle brush of my finger over his cock, he shivered. Our eyes connected as he waited to see what I'd do next. Since I didn't know myself, I figured we were both in for an interesting ride.

After working him thoroughly with my hand, I leaned in for a taste, licking him from base to tip and swirling my tongue around the velvety crown before taking him into my mouth, sucking gently and then a little harder. His hips bucked, and he groaned with desperation as I took more of him in my mouth. He tangled his hands in my hair, not to control my movements but to let me know he was hanging on by a thread. I took him deeper, until the head of his cock touched the back of my throat. There was no way I'd fit all of him in, but I was willing to try.

I let his sounds direct my rhythm, sucking and bobbing my head to milk every little bit of pleasure from him. From how his forearm muscles contracted, I could tell he was trying his best to maintain control. But he wasn't the one in control here. I was, and I was waiting for the moment he realized that.

Keeping firm pressure around the base, I stroked his shaft while working him in and out of my mouth. It was like playing notes in a complicated piece of music. We were so in tune I knew the moment he came undone. His eyes flared, and he shuddered helplessly. I swallowed every drop, watching his face the whole time, not wanting to miss a moment.

Slowly, his body calmed, and he realized he was gripping my hair in his fist. He let go and caressed the back of my head. "What are you doing to me?" he whispered under his breath. While he was getting himself under control, I laid my head on his shoulder. We were underneath a canopy of tree limbs, sheltering us from the sun's rays, and my hand was slowly moving over his chest. He threaded his fingers through mine and just held my hand. "Give me a minute, and I'll return the favor." Finn jerked when something landed on his face. He picked up the cluster of flat, winged shaped seeds. "Oh, it's just helicopters," he said, looking up at the maple tree above us.

"They're actually called samaras." He quirked his eyebrow at me, impressed that I knew their proper name. "My Grandpa Plum taught me all about them when I was little. Every Saturday morning, he'd take me to the neighborhood park, where I'd collect these by the handfuls, and then we'd sit on the swings while he told me the same stories over and over. I'd throw the samaras up and watch them float away on the air. Their design creates a vortex of air like a tiny tornado that blows the seeds away from the heavy canopy of the maple trees to a place where they can get enough light to begin growing roots deep into the earth."

"That's a sweet memory. What kind of stories did your grandpa tell?"

"Mostly stories about the Italian old country and how poor everyone had been. Grandpa was the first Plumeri born in America."

"Plumeri?"

"That was the original family surname. His father, Vincent, changed it when he came through Ellis Island. Vincent immigrated all by himself at 15, leaving his parents and his 10-year-old brother, Arturo, back in their tiny village. Even though he never saw them again, they kept in contact through letters and Christmas cards, but over the years, they became sporadic."

"Have you thought about going to Italy to visit his homeland?"

"Yeah. My dad would love to go, but it's just a dream. I doubt we'll ever make it there."

I was still playing with the fibrous samaras when Finn said, "In the fall, the leaves of this tree turn so red it looks like it's on fire."

A wave of melancholy swept over me. "I'm sorry I won't be here to see it." I wasn't trying to be depressing, but it was how I felt, and it popped out.

He squeezed my hand but was silent for so long that I thought he would let my comment go by. When he spoke, I heard the sadness in his voice even though he tried to mask it. "Let's not think about that, ok?"

I snuggled closer into his shoulder. He was right. There was no need to ruin the time we had together. The real world would insert itself soon enough.

The afternoon passed with easy conversation and relaxation. Finn did indeed return the favor, and his attention to detail was thorough and much appreciated. We didn't board the boat back to the cabin until the sun was setting, leaving just enough light for him to navigate. It was a great day.

That night, after our second round of sweaty, mind-blowing sex, with condoms, I got out of Finn's bed and went to the kitchen to conquer the first fear on my list. I was going to reclaim my right to enjoy a peanut butter and olive sandwich. The first whiff as I opened the jar made my stomach quiver, and I almost lost it before I started, but I held firm. I took a few deep breaths, giving my stomach time to get used to the smell, and then spread the peanut butter on a piece of bread. Luckily, Finn had olives, so I added a few.

With the finished product in hand, I paused to consider what I was about to do when Maggie whined, and I looked down at her. "I know what you're thinking, girl. The human is a big baby. It's just a sandwich." She let out a small bark, letting me know she had complete confidence in me. At least one of us did. "Here goes nothing." I put the sandwich to my lips, and my reaction was twofold when I finally took a bite. I was reminded of the cellar, but then memories of better times spent eating my favorite sandwich took precedence. As the good memories flowed, the bites got easier and easier until the sandwich was gone. The whole thing was anticlimactic, and I felt a little silly for making more of it than it was. But I was past it, and I considered that a win.

Finn's arms came around me when I crawled back into bed. "Have you been eating olives and peanut butter?"

"Yeah," I whispered, hoping he wouldn't make a big deal about it or want to discuss it.

"I'm happy for you," he said, and we fell asleep.