Free Devil Without a Cause by Terri Garey

towel was to be believed), and to be free to do whatever they—as two consenting adults—wanted to do.
    Except she wasn’t just consenting—she was instigating—because she had an ulterior motive, which made her a big fat freaking liar.
    Finn walked through the bedroom door and out of sight, but before he did—in large part because she couldn’t help herself—she admired the view. Then, a blink or two later, she calmly began to set the table. This wasn’t about her, it was about Nathan, and it wouldn’t do to forget that.
    If that made her a liar, then so be it.
    Might as well do her best to enjoy it.

Chapter Seven
    F inn emerged from the bedroom to find she’d set the table. She stood by the window, staring out as though mesmerized, and he wondered what she saw.
    To him it was just another faceless big city, but to her it was obviously home.
    “Do you like living here?” he asked, and she jumped.
    He wanted her to relax, for purely selfish reasons that he had no trouble acknowledging. He hadn’t been on a date—a real date—in so long he couldn’t even remember what one was like. She’d gotten so flustered when he’d come out in the towel; women who blushed were pretty rare in his world. At any rate, he didn’t want to be on anymore tonight. No performing, no posturing, no bullshit. He just wanted to be himself, to be Finn, and see how she responded to that.
    “I love Atlanta,” she said, turning back to the view. “Except for the traffic. It’s beautiful when the dogwood and azalea are in bloom, and the winters aren’t too bad. I’ve lived here all my life.” She gave a self-conscious laugh. “Sounds pretty boring, doesn’t it?”
    He shook his head. “I was an Air Force brat—I always thought it would be cool to stay in one place.”
    There was a silence, in which he could feel her looking at him.
    “I thought you grew up in L.A.,” she offered, as if everyone knew where he’d grown up, just because of who he was.
    He shot her a wry grin. “That’s the official story, I guess.” He turned from the window, moving toward the table. “I grew up all over.” He pulled out a chair and held it for her, smiling. “I hope you don’t believe everything you read about me.”
    “You mean you don’t own a private island in the Bermuda Triangle where you throw wild parties with celebrities and starlets and models?” She cocked her head, obviously only half teasing.
    He gave a short laugh. “Of course not,” he replied, as if the very idea was ludicrous. He waited until she’d settled in the chair to add, “It’s in the British Virgin Islands.”
    There, he’d made her laugh. She smelled good, something light and uplifting that made him want to breathe in deep.
    Instead he settled himself in the chair opposite her, looking forward to the meal. “I’m hungry,” he said, “how about you?”
    “Starved,” she answered.
    And so for the next half hour, they talked and they ate; him doing most of the eating and her doing most of the talking, mainly because he kept asking her questions. She toyed with her green beans while he decimated his fillet, and pretty soon he knew quite a bit about Amy Smith.
    Twenty-seven, degree in business from Georgia State. Grew up in Atlanta with parents she thought were great, lots of friends, liked to go out but took work very seriously.
    “Sounds like a nice life,” he said.
    She laughed at that, spearing a bean or two. “It’s had its ups and downs, but yes”—she nodded thoughtfully—“my life definitely has its bright spots.”
    “Anyone special?”
    Her eyes flew to his face.
    “Boyfriend, maybe?” Finn shrugged, playing it casual. “As long as he doesn’t show up pounding on the door, I’m okay with it.” As he said it, he was surprised to realize he didn’t mean it, and wondered why—he barely knew this girl.
    “No boyfriend,” she said, putting down her fork to pick up her glass. “I have a four-year-old son.”
    She barely looked