All the Way (Romancing Manhattan 1)

I pat his leg, and he takes my hand in his, then pulls it up to his lips.

“I broke out in my career the following year.” He spares me a glance, then returns his attention to the freeway. “A year too late. I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t help her. And if you think that I don’t think about the twenty percent chance that she could still be here, well, you’d be wrong.”

“It’s not your fault, Finn.”

“We all took it hard,” he says, not acknowledging my comment, “but Quinn really struggled with it, and still does. Losing Darcy and Dad so close together, Quinn now watches Mom like a hawk. He checks in with her every day, and takes her to the doctor for every little thing.”

“No wonder he’s on her last nerve.”

“She’s strong, and she’s healthy. We’ll get the blood pressure thing straightened out. I know she’ll be okay.”

“She will be,” I agree. “But Quinn’s entitled to his feelings, and he loves her. He wants to protect her.”

“He’s always been very protective of all of us,” Finn agrees. “You would have thought that he was the oldest sibling. But it’s gotten worse, and he needs to lighten up on Mom. He can’t micromanage every day of the poor woman’s life.”

“He’ll figure it out,” I reply as he pulls into his underground parking garage. “It was fun to see you all together tonight. Especially after we realized that she’s okay.”

“Why is that?”

“You’re a family,” I say, not sure how to explain it. “You joke with each other, and care about each other. I had that with my parents, but not with my brother. So it’s interesting to see siblings who get along with each other.”

“They drive me nuts, but I love them,” Finn says with a nod. “And I’m glad they like you too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Because I plan to hold on to you for a while too. A long while.”

“Good to know.”

Chapter Eleven

~London~

Sunday mornings have proven to be my favorite with Finn. It’s the one day a week that we sleep late, have lazy sex, and then coffee, breakfast, and more lazy time.

It absolutely does not suck, and I look forward to it every week.

This week is no different.

He’s reading articles on his iPad, and I’m watching a cooking show on TV. We’re curled up on his bed, our legs tangled, enjoying the quiet.

“I’m totally going to make this for dinner tonight,” I announce, already salivating at the thought of the chicken dish that Chef Alex is whipping up on the screen. “It looks easy enough.”

Finn looks up from his article to watch with me for a moment. “I think I have most of those ingredients in the kitchen now.”

“I’ll double-check and go to the store later if I have to. Oh, maybe I should bake banana bread.”

“Why?”

“Because it sounds good,” I say, and laugh when he just pinches the invisible flab on his belly. “I’m not making you fat.”

“If you keep whipping up delicious baked goods, you will,” he says, and pulls me into his arms for a long kiss. “Besides, this is all the sweetness that I need.”

“Aren’t you the charming one?”

His hand travels up between my thighs, and his fingertips flirt with my lips, making me squirm.

“Are you trying to talk me into or out of the banana bread?”

“Does it matter?” he asks with a grin. My back is arched, my hard nipples are pressed against the thin cotton of his old T-shirt, and he dips his head to pull one into his mouth, making me moan. His fingers dip into my pussy now and he makes that “come here” motion that makes my eyes cross.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he growls, and brushes his nose over my nipple before pulling it back into his mouth.

“I think you just changed the subject.” I swallow hard when he laughs against my breast. “What are we talking about?” Of course, at this very moment, my phone rings. I sigh and check the caller ID. “I have to take it.”

“Let’s not forget where we were,” he says as I press the green button.

“Hello?”

“Hello, darling, how are you?”

“I’m great, Jeffrey. How are you? Are you back in the country?”

“Yes, and let me tell you, it feels damn good.”

“Welcome home.”

“Thank you. So, I’m calling because I was talking with Gerald yesterday, and he would like to see us in his office on Thursday.”

“This Thursday?” I sit up and reach for my planner, flipping it open and staring at the coming week.

“This Thursday, if you can swing it.”

“I can swing it. Where am I going?”

“L.A., of course.”

“You want me in L.A. by Thursday.”

“Yep. We’ll do some reading, and go over some of the songs with him. It’s really a way for all of us to decide if this is a good fit. If it is, you’ll have to come back to L.A. in a few weeks for contracts and such, but I’ll let your agent deal with that.”