“Do you ever wonder why I don’t have a nickname?” he asked.
“Hmm?’ Charlotte replied, confused by the question.
“The guys, we all have nicknames. Miller is ‘Tox,’ Jonah is ‘Steady,’ Leo is ‘Ren.’ Hell, you have a nickname. Did you ever think it was weird I didn’t have one?”
“I think when I first started at Bishop Security, I did, but then I figured your name is Finn, you know like a fin.” She reached her arm behind her back, creating a fin. I know you’re the fastest swimmer.”
Finn’s lips lifted. “Yeah, but that’s not it.” He sat up and scooted toward her until they were hip-to-hip. “My nickname was Face.”
He watched the myriad emotions swim across her eyes: surprise, understanding, pain, and finally something he couldn’t name. It wasn’t pity or sadness. To Finn, it felt like admiration, like for some strange reason, she was proud of him.
“Oh, Finn.”
“That was me—The Face. I could charm the locals, sweet-talk a bartender, convince our C.O. to overlook some petty violation. A look, a wink, I could win over anyone.”
Charlotte put her hand on his knee. “You know what won me over?”
“Charlotte, you don’t have to lie for my sake.” Finn ran the back of his hand down her flawless cheek. “I’ll never forget the guys walking into that hospital room. Steady started to call me Face, then stopped. He said, ‘Hey Fa… uh, Finn. Good to see you, man.’ And that was the end of Face.”
“Can I tell you what I was going to say?” she asked.
“Yeah, sorry.”
“Do you remember that first day in New York?” Charlotte asked.
“Every fucking second.”
“You came up behind me. I didn’t notice you until you spoke. You said—”
“I can tell you why your code is failing.” He finished her sentence.
“Yes. And before I even looked up, I thought that’s a good voice.”
“My voice?”
“Yep. I grew up in a very musical household. My dad was always singing or taking up a new instrument. My mom was an actress, but dad always says he could listen to her talk until the end of time. You said something else before I looked up at you. Something about my purse being open.”
“‘You’re going to get your wallet stolen,’” he corrected her.
“Yes, that’s it. I love the sound of your voice.” Charlotte stroked the side of his neck.
“I’ll talk in your ear all night long,” he rasped.
“What would you say?” she teased.
“Well, I’ve had your body pressed up against me the past few nights, so probably some severely dirty shit.”
“I think I’d like to hear that,” she said.
“Charlotte, I want to make love to you more than I want to take my next breath, but I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt the baby.”
She peeled off the gray Navy T-shirt and moved to her knees next to him. “You’re not going to hurt me, Finn. The baby is fine. I need the real you, or there’s no point.”
“I’ve done some dark shit, Charlotte.”
“Like?”
Finn stroked the side of her face, the swell of her breast. Her pupils were dilated, her pulse thrumming. He sat up and whispered in her ear, “What if I tied you up? Spanked you? What if I wanted your ass?”