Liv…
* * *
The morning was gorgeous. Warm but not the blazing heat it’d be in a few hours. The breeze rattled the leaves, and birds chirped happily in the trees. Liv had woken at six after a fitful night of sleep and had decided to take her camera out for an early-morning stroll along the shore.
The weight of her Canon in her hand felt like spending time with an old friend and catching up. She’d forgotten some of the quirks and settings of the camera, but after an hour of snapping shots and test-driving some of her lenses, her confidence was coming back. She braced herself on her elbows and focused her macro lens to catch a ladybug making a purposeful walk across a leaf. The quiet click of her shutter was loud in the peaceful surroundings but soothing to her. Before all the media storm with Long Acre, some of her favorite times had that sound in the background. It was nice to reclaim it as her own.
When the ladybug decided she didn’t want to be a model anymore, scurrying under a bush, Liv rolled back up to her feet and brushed off her jeans. The sun’s rays were getting higher, and the light pierced her eyes. She squinted and held up her hand. Her head protested in response, the dull pounding that had started a few minutes ago going into full drum-corps mode.
Ugh. She’d hoped to not disturb Finn if he wanted to sleep in, but she’d hit the point of must-have-coffee-or-perish. She was beginning to see dots in her vision, which meant a migraine threatened. If she didn’t staunch it with caffeine and it hit her full force, her whole day would be a wash. She eyed the house and decided to take the risk. If she woke Finn, she’d fix him breakfast or something to make up for it.
She packed her camera in her bag and trudged up to the house. She’d tucked the key into her pocket and had memorized the code, so getting in was easy. She slipped in through the back door and found herself in an open-concept kitchen. She glanced around, taking in the living room and the small attached eating area. The house was all warm woods, stone, and glass—somehow pulling off modern and rustic at the same time. Beautiful. Elegant. And only a part-time home to someone, which seemed a damn shame.
She walked through the kitchen on silent feet and peeked down the hallway. Most of the doo
rs were shut, and everything was quiet. Finn had to be sleeping. His SUV was still in the driveway, and the coffeepot was dry as a bone.
Trying to be as stealthy as possible, she rummaged around in the pantry to find coffee and set it up to brew. While she waited, she picked through the breakfast offerings. Cereal. Instant grits. Granola bars. Some eggs in the fridge. Her stomach rumbled in response.
Not wanting to choose anything that would require a beeping microwave or the banging of pots, she grabbed a granola bar and polished that off while the coffee percolated. But right when the brewing cycle was almost done, she heard her name.
She frowned and glanced down the hallway. The word had been muffled, but she thought she’d heard Olivia. Maybe the coffee had woken Finn. Or maybe she was imagining things. Cautiously, she took a few steps down the hall. Sounds came from the door at the end on the left, which was slightly ajar.
“Olivia.”
Yes, definitely her name. But not calling for coffee. The grunting sound that followed it was definitely not meant for her ears.
Her breath caught, and she froze next to the door.
“Fuck.” The word was utterly male, ground out in a hoarse plea, and so damn sexy that her skin flushed instantly.
Her stomach clenched, and she couldn’t help but lean closer and peep through the crack in the door. There was a mirror on the wall that she could see, some sort of workout room reflecting back at her, but that’s not what caught her attention.
In the reflection a broad, shirtless back filled her view. Finn. Glossy with sweat. Head bowed. Athletic shorts riding low on his hips. And arm flexing.
The view and the slick sound of what had to be a fist over flesh were almost too much for her brain to compute, but her body certainly got the message. She pressed her lips together, sensation assaulting her. Finn was braced against the wall, stroking himself mercilessly and saying her name.
Her heartbeat jumped into her throat and pumped blood to every erogenous zone. She was not watching this. Absolutely not. She shouldn’t be here. She needed to leave. She needed to—
BEEP!
The coffeepot let out the shrillest, most obnoxious beep she’d ever heard, and her stomach dropped to her feet. The sound from the other side of the door stopped.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Liv took off down the hallway, trying to get back to the kitchen before the worst happened. She skidded to a halt at the counter, heartbeat frantic, and pressed all the buttons on the machine, trying to get the thing to stop screeching.
Right when it silenced, the sound of a door squeaking open came from the end of the hallway. She cringed, trying to will herself into a calm state, trying to tame the flush heating her cheeks.
“Liv?” Finn called.
“Uh, yeah, it’s me!” she said in an overly cheerful voice. “Sorry! Didn’t mean to wake you! Just making coffee!”
She closed her eyes, chiding herself for turning everything into an exclamation. No! I didn’t see you getting off! I’m completely oblivious! Do you take cream or sugar?!
The door shut again, and she managed to pour herself a cup of coffee before she heard the shower turn on. He took a few minutes, and she considered bolting but figured that would probably make her look even guiltier. When he finally stepped into the kitchen, she’d managed to down her first cup of coffee and cool her cheeks but not her too-fast heartbeat.
“Morning.” The word was gruff.