My head snapped up as I watched Amelia. Was she plotting something? She was sorting through the bag of wool, finding other orange balls and putting them in front of Finn, looking innocent. Which didn’t mean anything with her. Was she still harboring a hope Finn and I would get together? I couldn’t really check without giving away our secret, or lying about us already dating.
Finn watched me, expectantly. “Yes, come and guide my hands, Scarlett.” His face was deadpan but I knew him well enough to know he was teasing.
Perhaps I was stupid to rise to the challenge while we had an audience, but something inside me didn’t want to be the one to back down.
“Sure,” I said sweetly. I grabbed a ball of orange wool and knelt behind him, making sure to press close to his back. Then, with one arm over each of his shoulders, I wound the wool around his forearms and tied a knot to make the first stitch, explaining the process as I went. “To cast on, you need to make a row of basic stitches.”
I leant over even farther, pressing my breasts into his shoulder blades, and picked up his wrists. His breath caught, but it was such a slight change that I might have missed it had my ears been any farther away from his mouth. I was pretty certain Amelia wouldn’t have noticed the undertones of what was happening.
Once we had the first row of stitches, I moved one of his hands through a loop and told him to grab the wool and pull it back through. And, as I was explaining, I rubbed ever so slightly against his back. He tensed but was obviously trying to keep his reactions under wraps. I had to admit seeing Finn’s hands bound held a certain appeal that wouldn’t have entered my mind a few weeks ago.
The doorbell rang and Finn jumped up. “I’ll get it,” he said. Although we knew there was a chance it would be Billie, since she was hoping to make it home tonight, his reaction was also quite clearly about getting away from me. I sat back on my haunches, pleased my job was done. He’d basically dared me, but he’d been the one who couldn’t take it. And now he was trailing orange wool across the living room, with his hands still pretty much tied together by the knitting.
When the door opened his face lit up. “Hey, Billie.”
There was something that looked almost…complete in Finn when he had both his sisters around. He lifted his bound hands as if to hug her, but couldn’t get them apart.
Billie raised an eyebrow. “You get into some kinky stuff while I was gone, Finny boy?” She sounded husky, like she’d been screaming at a concert the night before, but that was just her natural speaking voice. I’d always envied her that tone—it was equal parts unusual and interesting.
Amelia ran over and, all arms and legs, launched herself at her sister. “Billie, I’m so glad you’re home. Finn’s helping us do some arm knitting since the scarf Scarlett made looked so good on Harvey.”
Finn gave up trying to hug Billie, and instead took her bag—something he could achieve with bound hands.
“Who’s Harvey?” Billie said, slinging an arm around Amelia.
“Harvey’s our dog. Wait till you meet him. Even the vet said he was clever.”
Billie turned to Finn, her black, chin-length bob swinging with the motion. “What the hell? You got a dog and didn’t tell me? I speak to you guys every week and no one mentioned a dog.”
Finn rolled his eyes. “Harvey belongs to Scarlett’s parents, who are currently camped out in the backyard.”
“Hey, Scarlett,” she said and plopped down on the sofa behind me.
I started rolling the orange wool back up from its crisscrossing trail across the room. “Hi, Billie. Great to see you.”
“So,” Billie said, her jet black bangs falling in her eyes. “Let me get this straight, now that I have more information to go along with the little you shared on the phone. In the short time since I was last home, Amelia got kicked out of school, you guys got a dog, there are hippies camping out in the backyard, Finn took up knitting and got involved in bondage, and…” She looked at me. “What have you done that’s new and ridiculous, Scarlett?”
I’m having crazy-good sex with your brother every chance I get. “Um, I went to a silversmithing class with Finn. Does that count?”
“Why not?” Billie said with a laugh. “So what else did I miss?”
Amelia crawled into the seat next to her sister, watching her with hero worship. “Harvey has a sore paw but Finn doesn’t believe it, I got chosen for a role in the dance concert at my new school even though I’d missed some of the practices, Finn’s been interfering in Scarlett’s love life, and Scarlett and her mum gave me the sex talk about finding your own pleasure and porn.”
Billie blinked huge brown eyes. “Yeah, I’m going to need a drink to cope with all of that information.” She turned to me. “Don’t suppose you have the ingredients for your famous mojitos?”
“Sure,” I said and stood, taking in Finn’s pained expression from across the room. Maybe I should have mentioned the content of the sex talk before now.
Amelia jumped up and stood beside me. “Can I have one this time?”
“You’ll have to ask Finn,” I said, despite knowing his answer.
Before she could even ask he said, “Nope,” and continued trying to disentangle his hands.
“Come on,” I said, dragging Amelia into the kitchen with me. “I’ll make you a virgin mojito. You’ll love it.”
Chapter Thirteen
Finn
My birthday party was in full swing. My sisters, Scarlett, her parents, and I were all under the trees in the backyard, drinking Amelia’s homemade lemonade and passing around platefuls of something John and Jane had made that was completely inedible. Harvey—wearing a party hat—was doing a great business in gobbling food passed to him under the chairs.
I’d done well on the present front—Billie had tracked down a handmade miniature lyre, Amelia had bought me some aftershave and arm-knitted a dark red scarf, and John and Jane had given me a velvet pouch filled with rocks and gemstones from the area that was once Mesopotamia. All in all, besides the hunger from having to pass my lunch to Harvey, I was having a good day.
“Give him your present now,” Amelia said to Scarlett.
“Okay, hang on,” she said, and disappeared into the house.
Billie grinned. “I wonder what it will be?”
The whole group spent the next three minutes discussing more and more outrageous options, when they all knew full well Scarlett would be giving me a teddy bear painting because Scarlett always gave me a teddy bear painting for birthdays and Christmases. Strangely, I was looking forward to it this year, even though I still thought it was cheesy. The whole concept had finally grown on me.
When she reemerged, she was carrying a canvas, draped with a sheet, that she handed to me. I took it, and she kissed my cheek.
“Happy birthday, Finn.”
She didn’t linger, which was a shame, but I’d claim a proper birthday kiss later, once we were alone. Even so, the barely-there kiss woke my entire body up so, for self-preservation, I focused on the painting. “Thanks.”
Holding the canvas high so everyone could see, I pulled the sheet away to reveal my teddy bear. Except it wasn’t a teddy. It was Harvey, his black and white body depicted in strong brushstrokes, though his face was rendered softly, in exquisite detail.
“Harvey!” Amelia said and the dog himself rushed to her side. “You’re in a painting. You’re famous!”
Billie and Scarlett’s parents were making other comments that included his name, so Harvey was running from one to the other, thrilled to be the center of attention.
In the commotion, I turned to Scarlett. “Thank you. It’s incredibly beautiful. But…no teddy bear?”
“You said you didn’t even like teddy bears,” she said, smiling too sweetly.
“I say that every time, and you still give them to me. You say I need them.”