A scoff flew from his lips, and he shook his head. “Aye, I’m upset, lass.” His voice sounded rough and filled with emotions held back. He inhaled a deep breath, and then his eyes met hers, held hers as though he did not dare look away. “Did Vaughn ask for yer hand?”
Emma flinched, and yet, her heart leapt into her throat with joy. “Well, he…,” she began, noting the way his shoulders drew upward and his hands balled into fists. If she allowed herself to believe her own eyes, she would think he was jealous! Could that truly be?
A lot had happened in only one day. A lot had happened that Emma had not seen coming or would ever have expected. Still, she remembered the way he had spoken to her, the way he had looked at her−looked not glared! She remembered his kiss, speaking not merely of passion but affection, perhaps even love. She also remembered him asking her if she intended to marry Vaughn.
And now, here he was wanting to know−desperately from the looks of it!−if Vaughn had asked for her hand.
“What did ye say?” Finn growled out, and Emma could have sighed with happiness. He truly cared for her! All of a sudden, it was as plain as day. How could she not have seen it before?
“Emma!”
Jarred from her happy thoughts, Emma took note of the almost murderous expression in Finn’s eyes as he glared at her. Still, this glare was a far-fetch from the one he had bestowed upon her at every encounter in the past seven years. It spoke less of anger and more of impatience, of a desperate need to have his question answered.
“Aye?” she said innocently, devilishly enjoying the pained look in his eyes.
“Would ye answer me?”
Cocking her head, she looked at him. “Why do ye wish to know?”
Finn’s teeth ground together as he tried his best to keep himself under control. Still, Emma could see the pulse in his neck thudding wildly. His face darkened, and the steps that carried him toward her held something menacing. “Emma!” he warned once more as his steps urged her back against the wall.
Still, Emma could not help but smile. “If ye wish to know,” she replied, lifting her chin as his hands settled to the left and right of her head, trapping her between himself and the wall, “then tell me why ye followed me that morning. Ye never answered me.”
Finn’s gaze narrowed, and a touch of incredulity came to his face. Inhaling a deep breath, he briefly closed his eyes. “I followed ye that morning because,” he swallowed hard, “because yer kiss touched me…and I wanted to speak to ye.”
A gust of air rushed from Emma’s lungs, and her eyes suddenly misted with tears. “But…but ye said it hadna been a true kiss. Why then−?”
“It had been for me,” he interrupted her, his gaze tracing the lone tear that rolled down her cheek, “but when I heard ye speak to yer friends, I knew it hadna been one for ye.” His gaze met hers, and all of a sudden, she saw a different question there.
Once again, Emma felt like a young girl about to steal a kiss one cold wintry morning. She felt daring and adventurous. Her blood boiled in her veins, and her heart thudded loudly in her chest.
And then everything was simple.
As she had seven long years ago, Emma pulled Finn down into a kiss.
For a moment, he froze as he had then. Only this time, his paralysis lasted a mere second before his hands dropped from the wall and pulled her into his arms. He held her tightly and returned her kiss with the same longing she had felt in him when he had kissed her earlier that day.
Had only a few hours passed since then?
It felt like a lifetime.
Finn’s heart danced and skipped and sang as he held the woman he loved in his arms.
Her kiss had caught him off guard as it had all those years ago. Only now, it was far from a soft peck of her lips on his, quick and rushed before she had darted away. Now, she lay in his arms as though she never wanted to leave again, her kiss demanding and an intention behind it that whispered of promises.
When she pulled back, her eyes shone bright and steady. “I kissed ye that day,” she whispered, “because I wanted to.”
“Aye?” was all Finn could articulate in that moment as he stared down at her, a part of him urging him not to believe his own eyes.
“Aye,” she confirmed before her lips brushed against his once more.
Clearing his throat, Finn lifted his head, a frown drawing down his brows. “Then why the dare? Why did ye not simply−?”
“Simply?” Emma exclaimed, her eyes widening with annoyance as she shook her head at him. “There’s nothing simple about…about declaring one’s feelings.” Lifting her chin in defiance, she glared up at him. “I might as well ask why ye didna confront me then and there. Why did ye never say anything in all those years?”
Finn’s shoulders slumped when he saw the same fear in her eyes he had harboured in his own heart all this time. “I…I was afraid ye would reject me,” he finally admitted, his heart clenching even now at the thought of showing himself so vulnerable. “I heard ye laugh and say our kiss was nothing, that it had meant nothing to ye. It broke my heart.”
Emma sighed, and the anger vanished from her eyes. “I felt the same. I…I accepted the dare because it gave me an excuse to kiss ye without having it mean anything…if it didna mean anything to ye.”
Shaking his head, Finn chuckled.
