Chapter 14 #2
‘Yep, no worries. Hilde’s been showing her the Banshees Instagram page every day and she loves it. I think she’d quite like to see herself in some action pics.’
‘I’m sure there’ll be plenty by the time the comp is over,’ Fin said. ‘But for now, I better get to it. This lot’—he tipped his chin at the bunch of five- and six-year-olds bouncing around the field like ping-pong balls—‘look like they need to run off some energy.’
It had taken Fin two days to figure out he had to run the little blighters ragged for the first ten or fifteen minutes before he could get any sense or useful ball skills out of them.
Gordon chuckled. ‘I’ll leave you to it.’
Fin nodded and headed back towards the team, his gaze once again finding a trigger-happy Sweeney, his brain wandering back to the couch last night and the world’s most inappropriate hard-on.
Thankfully his shirt had hidden the evidence, but it didn’t make it any less mortifying or, frankly, confusing.
As a man, random boners were a way of life, but to the best of his knowledge he’d never had one induced by Sweeney.
Not as an adult, anyway. When he’d been going through puberty—probably.
Considering anything and everything had triggered him back then.
A stiff breeze. Melinda Raleigh’s two perfectly prim plaits that had hung down her back.
The mere sight of a can of whipped cream.
The slim gold chain with a tiny dangling star that his art teacher wore around her right ankle.
The sensation of his underwear pulling against his crotch when he rode his bike.
The sight of Edna Mullins’ industrial-strength beige bra on her clothes line.
The damn thing had been up and down more often than a flag on a pole. It was a wonder it hadn’t dropped off or worn out before he’d actually had a chance to use it with something other than his right hand.
But seriously, when had thoughts of women wearing men’s fragrances been such a freaking turn-on?
Or had it just been the … intimacy of it all?
His body wash on her. From the same tube.
More intimate even than living under the same roof and sharing the same bathroom, her toothbrush sitting next to his on top of the vanity.
Or her clothes in the laundry hamper. Listening to her humming along to whatever song was playing in her earbuds in the morning as she made a cup of tea.
He hadn’t even been able to remember the name of the damn stuff as he’d sat there with his hard-on but it had smelled amazing—the memory of it now still made him squirm. Which was unsettling. And he’d never felt unsettled around or because of Sweeney.
Her lips pursed as he watched her peer through the lens.
A light breeze blew some loose strands of hair across her face and she tossed her head to shake them back, her eye still pressed to the viewfinder.
She was in her natural habitat, the camera almost an extension of her body, and she looked really good.
Well, der, of course she did. But it wasn’t about her hair or what she was wearing, although those jeans hugged her curves to perfection. It was more that she was … happy. Content, behind the lens. Like she was doing what she was meant to be doing in life, and it made him suddenly … restless.
Was he doing what he was meant to be doing in life? Did he look that satisfied when he was slaving over a spreadsheet?
In their argument, his father had accused him of having a soulless job, and right now, standing here with little kids running all around and family and community everywhere, that feeling of restlessness—or maybe it was dissatisfaction—intensified.
He didn’t work for a big multinational anymore earning the big bucks.
He’d deliberately gone smaller when he’d moved to Dublin, and really enjoyed working at the charity.
Enjoyed the focus on how money could be spent prudently and wisely to benefit the many and not how it could be multiplied to benefit the few.
But it wasn’t exactly speaking to his soul, either, was it?
Thankfully he’d reached the middle of the field, so he firmly pushed that unwelcome thought aside. ‘Okay, okay, gather around,’ he called.
Donny hadn’t arrived yet so it was just him to do the wrangling. The kids swarmed him, seeking fist bumps and high fives from Sharky, which he dutifully delivered.
‘I’d like you all to meet Winnie.’ He smiled at the girl flanked either side by Tori and Nellie, signing as he spoke. ‘She’s our new team member.’
A brusque voice from the back asked the blunt question. ‘Is she deaf?’
Although she was too short to see who had asked, Tori glared in the direction of the enquiry, clearly considering it insensitive. Thunder in her face, she crankily folded her arms. Fin suppressed a smile and said a prayer for her future boyfriends. Or girlfriends.
‘No,’ she said haughtily.
‘She just doesn’t like to talk much,’ Nellie clarified, also on the defensive.
Fin suppressed a smile. ‘Okay, let’s all make Winnie welcome by saying hello. Here’s how you sign hello.’ Fin showed his palm to everyone then swooshed it through the air as if he was making a rainbow, just as Tori had done earlier.
The kids cracked up and Matthew demanded, ‘Is that hello?’
Fin made a horizontal fist in the air and wagged it up and down. ‘Yes.’
‘But that’s easy,’ Matthew responded.
‘Okay then,’ Fin signed. ‘Let’s see you do it.’
The stocky little ranga pushed to the front of the crowd, standing in front of Winnie, and performed a perfect sign for hello. ‘Good,’ Fin said, giving the kid one thumb up. ‘You also say the words,’ he said, signing slowly so Winnie could catch it, ‘if you can, when you’re signing.’
Matthew repeated the process, saying, ‘Hello,’ this time.
Winnie gave a shy smile and signed hello in return, which made Matthew beam. Fin scanned the rest of the team. ‘How about we all do it together?’ He counted to three and the team all said, ‘Hello,’ as they performed the sign.
Some were better at it than others but that was just practice.
The most important thing of note right now was his zero levels of dissatisfaction as he watched a bunch of five- and six-year-olds enthusiastically signing a welcome to a kid who didn’t speak because she’d been through an unimaginable horror.
He felt like how Sweeney had looked just before when he’d observed her snapping pictures. He felt good. Like he was supposed to be doing this thing. Despite being roped into it and having a couple of dozen iPhone cameras trained on his face.
It was probably just the familiarity and nostalgia of signing and being back in Ballyshannon again, but still, it spread warmth through his chest.
‘Okay,’ he signed and said. ‘Let’s play some football.’
The kids whooped, running to their usual positions. Winnie obviously didn’t join in the cheering, but Tori and Nellie were already showing her the ropes and she seemed happy to fall in with the sisters.
Gordon was certainly happy on the sideline as Fin’s gaze connected with his. ‘Thank you,’ he mouthed as he pressed a hand to his heart.
And damn if that warmth didn’t spread to every part of Fin’s body.