Old Enough To Know Better by Carolyn Faulkner

refurbished to their former beauty.  She would have preferred if it had remained a house, rather than being transformed into a business – or worse, apartments – but at least it hadn’t been torn down.  They were given a seat by the bow window in the room that had probably been the front parlor at one point, and their waitress was wonderfully attentive, not that they were paying attention to much of anyone but each other.
    He’d pulled out her chair to seat her, whispering in her ear as he did so that he could request a pillow for her if she liked, enjoying the way she flushed so beautifully at his wicked comment.
    Finn offered to get them a bottle of wine, but wine wasn’t much to Cat’s taste so she wrinkled her nose but encouraged him to get one if he wanted.  When they’d ordered – prime rib for him and a filet for her, after she’d tried to get away with just a bowl of seafood chowder that got her a look that had her bottom tingling uncomfortably in the straight backed chair – he moved the place setting out of his way and put his elbows on the table to lean towards her, gazing directly into her eyes.  She did the same, mirroring him, if only on a whim.
    Then he asked something that stopped her in her tracks, because it seemed he was reading her mind, yet again.  “So, is this the time when you try again to convince me that we can’t possibly date and try to kiss me off as if this is going to be our only dinner together?”
    Cat choked, and reached for her water, although it wasn’t much help.
    “That’s what I thought.”
    “But –” she wanted to explain.  She hated arguments and confrontations, but had had all her reasons lined up, not the least of which was her friendship with his mother.  And he’d gone and taken all the wind out of her sails, the bastard.
    He leaned back, palms on his thighs, awaiting the challenge with relish.  “C’mon.  Out with it.  Let’s get it over with.  I don’t want it hanging over us forever.”  Finn’s eyes narrowed, and she felt the weight of all of that considerable focus on her.  “Because I’m not going to let anything stand in the way of us, Catherine.  Nothing and no one.”
    She leaned on her arms again and played her trump card.  Might’s well get it right on out there.  “Not even your mother?”
    There was absolutely no hesitation in his response whatsoever, and Finn was extremely close to his mother.  “No.  Not even my mother, although I have to tell you that I have no worries in that area, either.”  He reached across the table and took her small, cold hand in his, slipping it between both of his to warm it.  “Catherine, I’m not fifteen, and you’re not some predatory school teacher or something like that.  I’m thirty four –”
    “Almost,” she corrected.
    He smiled.  “Almost.  And you make me very happy.  What more has my mother ever wanted?  Why should she care who I marry – she just wants me to get married to someone.”
    “Thanks,” Cat deadpanned.  “That makes me feel so much better.”
    He grinned.  “You know what I mean.”
    “She wants you to have children.  She wants grandbabies out of your marriage, and I’m really too old and frankly not very inclined to have children at this stage in my life, Finn.  Have you thought of that?”
    Their waitress arrived with their salads and left as unobtrusively as possible.  The food went untouched.  “Yes, I have.  I don’t want children, either.  And if we decided to later on, we could adopt.”
    Cat shook her head.  “You’re my best friend’s son.  You’re too young for me.  Your mother would kill me.  When Title IX was passed, she wanted to play on the boys’ football team, and they would have let her if it weren’t for your Nana.”
    His face went completely blank; Title IX became a law well before he was born.
    Cat sighed.  “I rest my case, but needless to say, if we ever got involved, your mom would kill me dead.”