present in her life for years to come. Every time she felt a twinge, small lump or discomfort she would wonder if the disease had returned. Was it fair of her to ask someone, anyone, to share that uncertainty with her? Finn had already experienced how bad it could get. What if what happened to his sister happened to Steph? What if they got back together and the worst happened? How could she ask him to risk going through all that again?
She imagined his possible reactions as he took the news…sadness, panic, eagerness to escape, guilt, pity…even heroic understanding and selfless concern…none of which boded well for a real relationship between them. The thought rattled her to the core. She had done million-dollar deals with a confident nod, but the thought of facing Finn to reveal her most intimate pain made her want to hide. She was scared to tell him. Scared he would turn his back and walk away as he had last night, only this time for good.
Her sisters were right. It wouldn’t be easy, but she needed to tell him about her cancer. The sooner the better. She couldn’t live with herself if she didn’t stop this before they both got in too deep. She squared her shoulders.
She would tell him. If she ever saw him again.
The phone was ringing when she entered the front door, and she rushed to unfasten Mickey’s leash and answer it.
“Steph?” Finn’s voice stirred an unholy mixture of pleasure and relief in her. “Hey—I thought I was going to miss you.”
“I was out walking Mickey. I just came in.” She knew she’d sound just as breathless answering any phone call from him.
“We’ve got a major event going on here.” There was crowd noise in the background and something that sounded like falling water. He must be at Damon’s. “And I thought to myself, I bet Stephanie Steele would probably kill to get a look at our spring and summer collection of waders. We carry only the top designers, you know. Very exclusive. If you play your cards right, I might even hook you up with a sales rep. Could be the mother lode for Silk and Steele . What do you say? Wanna come?”
“Are you asking me out? You really know how to turn a girl’s head, Hartley.”
“It’s a gift.” He chuckled. “I’ll pick you up in thirty minutes. Wear something wettable.”
And he was gone.
“Pretty damned sure of himself. Wettable? Is that even a word?”
But on the way up the stairs she started to grin, and her heart was skipping as she changed into some chinos, a camisole and a camp shirt. She put on a little makeup and surveyed the results in the bathroom mirror, stifling the urge to scrutinize her chest for signs of asymmetry.
“Eat your heart out, L.L. Bean.”
When she answered the door minutes later, Finn filled the opening, invading her senses and crowding some of the air from her lungs. His hair was windblown, his khakis were a little wrinkled, and the green polo stretched across his broad shoulders had water spots drying on it. She melted. There wasn’t a man on the planet more masculine and appealing.
He looked her over, grinned in a you-look-good-enough-to-eat way, and took her by the hand. All thoughts of “the talk” were relegated to later . Being with him and laughing at his wry take on the world was the kind of pleasure she hadn’t enjoyed in a very long time. Selfish though it might be, she wanted to savor it for a little while.
Damon’s expansive parking lot was filled with manufacturers’ tents, water features that invited interaction, and displays of bass boats, kayaks and canoes. A set of bleachers and a small stage had been erected at the rear of the lot, and the seats were filled with spectators having a great time watching demonstrations of equipment and techniques spiced by well-worn comedy routines. And last, but far from least, were the food vendors and cooking demonstrations that filled the air with fabulous smells.
“This is like a mini state fair,” Steph said as Finn led her
She imagined his possible reactions as he took the news…sadness, panic, eagerness to escape, guilt, pity…even heroic understanding and selfless concern…none of which boded well for a real relationship between them. The thought rattled her to the core. She had done million-dollar deals with a confident nod, but the thought of facing Finn to reveal her most intimate pain made her want to hide. She was scared to tell him. Scared he would turn his back and walk away as he had last night, only this time for good.
Her sisters were right. It wouldn’t be easy, but she needed to tell him about her cancer. The sooner the better. She couldn’t live with herself if she didn’t stop this before they both got in too deep. She squared her shoulders.
She would tell him. If she ever saw him again.
The phone was ringing when she entered the front door, and she rushed to unfasten Mickey’s leash and answer it.
“Steph?” Finn’s voice stirred an unholy mixture of pleasure and relief in her. “Hey—I thought I was going to miss you.”
“I was out walking Mickey. I just came in.” She knew she’d sound just as breathless answering any phone call from him.
“We’ve got a major event going on here.” There was crowd noise in the background and something that sounded like falling water. He must be at Damon’s. “And I thought to myself, I bet Stephanie Steele would probably kill to get a look at our spring and summer collection of waders. We carry only the top designers, you know. Very exclusive. If you play your cards right, I might even hook you up with a sales rep. Could be the mother lode for Silk and Steele . What do you say? Wanna come?”
“Are you asking me out? You really know how to turn a girl’s head, Hartley.”
“It’s a gift.” He chuckled. “I’ll pick you up in thirty minutes. Wear something wettable.”
And he was gone.
“Pretty damned sure of himself. Wettable? Is that even a word?”
But on the way up the stairs she started to grin, and her heart was skipping as she changed into some chinos, a camisole and a camp shirt. She put on a little makeup and surveyed the results in the bathroom mirror, stifling the urge to scrutinize her chest for signs of asymmetry.
“Eat your heart out, L.L. Bean.”
When she answered the door minutes later, Finn filled the opening, invading her senses and crowding some of the air from her lungs. His hair was windblown, his khakis were a little wrinkled, and the green polo stretched across his broad shoulders had water spots drying on it. She melted. There wasn’t a man on the planet more masculine and appealing.
He looked her over, grinned in a you-look-good-enough-to-eat way, and took her by the hand. All thoughts of “the talk” were relegated to later . Being with him and laughing at his wry take on the world was the kind of pleasure she hadn’t enjoyed in a very long time. Selfish though it might be, she wanted to savor it for a little while.
Damon’s expansive parking lot was filled with manufacturers’ tents, water features that invited interaction, and displays of bass boats, kayaks and canoes. A set of bleachers and a small stage had been erected at the rear of the lot, and the seats were filled with spectators having a great time watching demonstrations of equipment and techniques spiced by well-worn comedy routines. And last, but far from least, were the food vendors and cooking demonstrations that filled the air with fabulous smells.
“This is like a mini state fair,” Steph said as Finn led her
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