He kissed me hard and fast, lingering for several long beats before pulling back. “I want it to be true, too. I love you, too. So much. I’m so glad you’re okay.”
I began apologizing again for worrying him, but he simply pulled me into another hug and grunted for me to stop apologizing. “None of this is your fault. I’m so fucking glad you weren’t in there. I was so scared.”
“Is everyone okay? Are they still trapped?”
He released me but took my hand in a firm grip as if unwilling to let us be separated. I liked knowing he needed to be sure of me.
“Everyone’s out. The five cast and crew stuck in the cave are all okay. Just pissed as hell. I have a feeling this production will be bankrupt before the movie even gets out the door.”
I blew out a breath, feeling the final weights drop from my shoulder. A breeze lifted my hair and cooled my hot face. It was the sensation of one door closing and another… well, I was looking right at the other one opening.
Epilogue
Declan - several months later
“I feel like I’m going to puke.”
I rubbed Finn’s lower back in the soothing way he liked. “You’re not going to puke.” I wished there weren’t so many layers between my palm and his skin, but I had to deal with it. Not only was it cold in Aster Valley in December, but as the director of the play, he was expected to wear a coat and tie.
Finn Heller in a coat and tie was a borderline violation of public decency laws. I was staying extra vigilant by keeping my eyes laser focused on him just in case I needed to make an arrest.
“This is worse than the time I had to sing at the Emmys with Dolly Parton,” he said, shocking me out of my inappropriate—and honestly way too frequent—sheriff/perp sex fantasy.
“The Emmy people put you in a duet with Dolly Parton?” I asked incredulously. I’d never heard that story, even though we’d been living together four months now. And Finn was a talker. I loved his stories, but I’d have remembered a Dolly story.
He shot me a glare. “I can sing. I can sing just fine.”
“No, of course you can.” He couldn’t. “Of course. It’s just…”
“Fine. It was a gag sketch between award presentations. Whatever. Anyway, this is way worse.”
I bit back a laugh. “They’re going to be fine. You’ve been practicing every night for weeks.”
Finn and I looked out onto the Aster Valley High stage while the curtain was still closed. Solo was trying to laugh silently at something Abbie Vollmer had said. Every time she shot him her “moody Kate” look, as Finn called it, Solo cracked up again.
“It’s going to be good, isn’t it?” Finn asked me in a soft voice only I could hear. The crowd made enough noise on the other side of the curtain to cover up his words. They were still busy finding their seats and chatting with friends.
“Babe, it’s going to be amazing. Last night’s dress rehearsal had me in tears I was laughing so hard. Plus, they’re clearly having so much fun with it. I love that you let the kids put their own spin on the story.”
Finn’s smile was shy but proud. “That’s the whole point of what I wanted to teach them in class. This stuff is timeless. The themes and issues can be put into modern…” His cheeks darkened as his voice trailed off. “And you’ve heard me talk about this a million times already. Sorry.”
“I never get tired of seeing how happy you are in your new job. You have to know that by now. Even if I have to send a patrol vehicle over here to lure you out of work sometimes.”
Tessa came rushing up and handed Finn something tiny along with a bottle of water. “Headache medicine. Trust me, it’s a preventive for afterward when all the parents come to meet you under the guise of ‘thanking you’ for putting on the play for little Timmy and Tonya. Remember the night of the parent-teacher conferences?”
Hell. That night had been sheer hell. Finn had come home looking like he’d been jumped and stripped for parts. “They’re uh… really excited I’m their kids’ new teacher…” he’d said in a daze.
Finn took the pills and threw them back in his mouth before gulping water. He muttered something about the poorest service being repaid with thanks. I was fairly sure it was a quote from the play.
After swallowing the meds, he winked at Tess. “Thanks. Where’s Hoss?”
She laughed. She didn’t think it was funny when I called Conley the same nickname, but Finn could get away with murder when it came to that baby, and anything else for that matter.
“Shawn’s parents came to town to watch him so we could come see the show. We’re going out to dinner after this. By ourselves. Without the baby.” She looked almost reverent. “Like a real date that real people get to go on. By themselves.”