4. Chester
Chester
F inn’s visit lingered in my mind long after he walked out of my shop.
Not that it was surprising, given what he’d disclosed. Having to make displays for anyone who had died before their time was sad.
But when one of those people was a child? It was devastating.
He’d said it wasn’t a recent loss, but Finn clearly wasn’t over it. That too was unsurprising. Losing a child you loved wasn’t something anyone would get over. I didn’t have children, but I knew I’d feel the same if I were in his shoes.
It was a loss unlike any other.
I hadn’t asked him how they’d died or exactly when. That wasn’t as relevant as how they’d lived . That was what I wanted Finn to remember. That was the part of their story I wanted to honour.
Seeing how earnestly Finn loved Sarah and Maria had made my heart ache. It shone brightly in every word and story he shared. It was devastatingly beautiful to know he’d loved that much, only to lose them .
Selfishly, it’d also reminded me thatthere was no one alive who I loved like that. Or who loved me.Not anymore. Back at the start, before everything became twisted and jaded, I’d believed Matt loved me that way.
But I’d been wrong. And any love I’d had for him had been washed away by his insults, gaslighting, and manipulations.
Meeting with Finn had been a stark reminder that the last person to show me such unconditional love was gone. Her ashes were in the urn beside those of my parents.
If Gran had been alive when Matt and I first started talking, she would’ve seen the warning signs. She would’ve encouraged me to slow down, to prioritise my own wants and needs above Matt’s. There was no way she would’ve advocated for me uprooting my entire life just to be closer to him.
Not that that would’ve happened. I wouldn’t have moved away from her. When my parents died during a freak plane crash, Gran lost her only child along with her son-in-law. Well into retirement, she’d believed her child rearing days were long behind her.
That hadn’t stopped her from immediately moving from Scotland to Yorkshire to the house I’d shared with them.
She hadn’t wanted to upend my life any more than it had been already.
Her life was another matter though. Instead of cruising around the Caribbean, Gran had spent her twilight years chasing around a toddler.
All of her plans got put on hold to care for me.
I’d asked her once if she minded. If she ever looked back on those years with regret. She’d fixed me with one of her classic Gran looks before saying “That’s like asking me if I mind breathing, lad. I care for you because I love you, and it’s as simple as that. I can’t help but do it. ”
It had been five years since she’d passed, but grief didn’t have an expiration date. Speaking with Finn had brought it all back for me, the same as it did whenever I ate a roast dinner or heard the Emmerdale theme tune.
So, no. It didn’t surprise me that his visit was still on my mind days later. What did surprise me though, was that it wasn’t for any of those reasons.
It was because of his smile. The way it tugged his lips higher on the right side than the left.
His Scottish accent that I should have been used to, but which somehow sounded far richer from his mouth.
How his green eyes sparkled as he met me pun for pun.
The laugh that lingered in my ears to this day, filling the silence of the shop.
Finn was gorgeous, charming, even flirtatious.
Those were all reasons why I shouldn’t be thinking of him. They were red flags that pretended to be green. Ones Matt had waved, and I’d blindly ignored.
I wouldn’t ignore them again. Not this time.
Matt had been charming once. He’d made me feel like the most important person in the world.
Like I could achieve anything I wanted to.
He’d done that so I wouldn’t notice the barbs.
The quiet questioning of my worth and whether the decisions I was making were the right ones.
The sneers about my outfits or the food I ate.
For so long, they’d passed me by.There was no way Matt was abusing me. Not with how he’d first treated me.
It had taken years for my eyes to open. For me to see the truth of what was right in front of me. If it hadn’t been for Uncle Cal dying and offering me a way out, I wasn’t sure I would ever have seen it.
Or at least, ever escaped.
That was why I shouldn’t have been thinking of Finn the way I was.
On the surface, he was a lovely man. A gentleman.
But I couldn’t forget the casual criticism he’d thrown at me.
The insinuation that I didn’t know how to run my business.
It was a little thing, and yes, he’d apologised, as had I.
My reaction was rude considering Finn was a customer.
It was just that it hadn’t been Finn I’d heard in that moment, but Matt.
Do you really think you have what it takes?
Millions of businesses fail in the first six months. What makes you think you’ll be any different?
Opening your own place is a childish dream. Grow up, Chester, and let it go.
Maybe Finn truly hadn’t meant it to come out the way it did, but he’d still said it. That was enough to have me running for cover. I’d ignored the signs before and paid with my happiness, safety, and security. Never again.
Finn might be the most handsome man I’d ever met, but it meant nothing. In a few days, I’d give him his arrangements and he’d be out of my life.
Exactly where I needed him to be.
Now if my brain could stop obsessing about the thick veins in his hands, I’d be golden. And the less said about the man’s rugged jawline, the better.
The shop had closed two hours ago, but I was still working. More specifically, I was wandering the woodland around my house, searching for wildflowers.
It being September limited my choices, but there was still an abundance if you knew where to look. Grass of Parnassus, Scottish bluebells and, of course, thistles—all of which looked beautiful when pressed and dried.
It was a lengthy process when you used traditional methods, taking two to three weeks to achieve. Fortunately, I’d managed to locate a heated flower press to ensure I got it done in time.
Okay, so I’d spent hours online the night Finn came into the shop and paid an extortionate amount for next day delivery, but it was fine. It didn’t matter that it had cost more than Finn was spending on the arrangement. It was an investment. A tool I could use for future work.
Sure. Because pressed flowers are requested so often.
I ignored that thought. So what if I wanted it to be perfect for Finn?
It didn’t matter what red flags the bloke might have.
At the end of the day, he’d gone through an unimaginable loss.
If dried flowers could ease his pain by even a millimetre, then I’d do whatever it took. I would have done it for anyone.
Way to run a business.
That thought sounded far too like Matt for my liking. I needed to focus on the task at hand: finding the perfect flowers.
The small basket on my arm was already full of a mixture of specimens, but there was one more I wanted to find—Scottish primrose.
A beautiful purple flower, they’d look wonderful mixed in with what I had planned.
They bloomed briefly, but brightly, just as Sarah and Maria had. It felt fitting to include them.
They only flowered twice a year; once in spring, and once in late summer. September was technically pushing it a bit for ‘summer,’ especially in Scotland, but it had been unseasonably warm this year. I was certain that, if I looked long enough, I’d find some.
The light was fading, and I was just about to call it quits when a cluster of blue-violet caught my eye. Yes.
I hummed to myself in delight as I dropped to my knees. “Oh, these are perfect! ”
Using my small pair ofsecateurs, I carefully trimmed four of the flowers from the stems. I only took what I needed, leaving the rest to turn to seed so they could return next year.
I was just dusting off my knees when a twig broke a few feet from me. I froze. It’s probably just an animal.
Another twig. The rustling of leaves. If it was an animal, it was a big one.
And it was heading in my direction.
My heart began to race as I struggled to remember what wild animals there were in this part of Scotland.
Nothing capable of eating humans, right?
I didn’t think so. But there were definitely Highland cows.
They might look cute and fluffy, but not so much if they were charging you down in a stampede.
I took a step backwards, preparing to run, when a very human voice came from the direction of the noise. “Chester?”
My jaw dropped. “Finn?”
The man himself stepped out from behind a tree, his face creased in confusion.
For some reason, he was shirtless. His chest seemed broader without the material covering it, the layer of hair doing little to hide the musculature beneath.
And, Jesus, was that an eight-pack? “Why are you in the middle of the woods at night?”
There I was ogling him, and he had to open his mouth and ruin it. My nostrils flared as what he was implying flashed through me. Did he think I was weak? That I couldn’t look after myself?
You were weak with Matt.
“It’s not the middle of the night, it’s barely seven p.m. Am I not allowed to be outside? Is it past my bedtime? Anyway, I could ask you the same thing. What are you doing out in the middle of the woods, and shirtless at that?”
“Slow down.” Finn’s brows rose along with his hands. “I didn’t mean any offence.”
I closed my eyes briefly. Fuck, I’d done it again. What was wrong with me? I didn’t react this strongly with anyone else. Why was I doing it with him?
It’s because you’re attracted to him and that’s fucking terrifying.
I pressed my hand against my chest, willing to my heart to slow as I processed that.
It was normal to be attracted to Finn. He was gorgeous.
But it was also normal to be frightened by it.
He didn’t mean to, but he kept inadvertently reminding me of the past I so desperately wanted to forget.
“No, I’m sorry. You startled me, that’s all. ”
“It’s okay,m’eudail. I didn’t have any right asking you that.”
I didn’t even attempt to replicate the word he’d used, knowing I’d butcher it. “What does that mean?”
Finn’s brow drew in. “What?”
“That word you used.” I gestured haphazardly. Fuck’s sake, I was going to have to attempt it. “The mmdoola one.”
Finn’s lips curled in a grin, though, like a gentleman, he didn’t laugh. “M’eudail?”
I held my chin high, pretending what I’d said had come vaguely close.“That’s the one.”
His smile faded. “Shit, I didn’t mean to call ye that. Force of habit. Anyway, I just went for a swim in the loch.”
I mean, it was warm, but it wasn’t that warm. “In September?”
“Aye.” He winked at me. “Good for the muscles.”
My eyes swept over him from head to toe. “I can see that. ”
I swear, Finn flexed his pecs. My gaze shot back to his face to see him smirking at me. “I try to keep in shape.”
Heat flushed my cheeks, and I felt my shoulders pull in. What was I doing? One minute I was snapping at the poor man, the next I was ogling him.
Fatigue filled me, as deep as the loch I lived beside. I hated this version of myself, the one Matt had created. No, the one I’d allowed him to create. The one who didn’t know how to continue a normal conversation outside of a professional context. Who’d rather hide himself away than open up again.
“Hey.” Finn’s hand brushed my arm. “Are ye okay?”
I jerked away from his touch instinctively. Confusion flickered in Finn’s eyes, followed quickly by hurt.
“I’m fine,” I said shortly, more than ready to escape to the solitude of my house. Where there was no one I could upset. No one I could offend or hurt. No one who needed me. That was what I wanted. “I was just out collecting flowers for your order. I’ve got enough now, so I’ll be heading back.”
Finn’s gaze fell to the basket at my feet, his eyes softening. “You found Scottish primrose.”
I picked up the basket so he could have a closer look. I could be professional about this. “Yes. I’ve also gathered thistles and Scottish bluebells. Oh, and grass of Parnassus. Are you happy with the selection?”
When he didn’t say anything, I glanced up. My professional veneer cracked as I spotted the tear rolling down Finn’s cheek. “Finn?”
He snapped his head up, a hand dashing the moisture away. “Sorry. Seeing the primrose…I’d forgotten that Sarah loved those. She embroidered a dress with them once. ”
I softened in the face of his grief. “Then I’m extra glad I found them.”
“Me too,” he said gruffly. He stared at the flowers, his hand trembling as he reached out to touch one.
He looked so lost in that moment that I yearned to comfort him. To offer him something that might make him feel better. But all the trite things I trotted out at work felt wrong now. Empty.
Instead, I said nothing. I just stood beside Finn as he pulled himself together. I couldn’t offer him anything else, but I could offer him my solidarity. The knowledge that, for a few moments, he wasn’t alone in his grief.
Eventually, he cleared his throat and took a step backwards. “I best let ye get home.”
I nodded, already backing away. “Goodnight, Finn.”
He gave me a wry smile. “Goodnight, Chester.”
It was only as I walked up the path to my house and glanced out over the silent body of water that I realised something.
There was only one loch Finn could’ve been swimming in. The one I could see from most rooms in my house.
Including my bedroom.
I let myself in with a sigh. You’re not going to look out your window at every opportunity just in case you get a glimpse of Finn practically naked.
And wet.
You’re not.
Yeah, I didn’t believe myself either.