Chapter Six #2
“I’ve learned not to question your judgment,” Fin said as he resumed lasagna assembly.
The three of them chatted about the latest true crime documentary and their favorite podcasts while Cash handed them the ingredients they needed to complete dinner. The topic reminded Finley of his encounter with the cult.
“A trio from Salvation Anew visited Mom’s store today,” Finley said.
Harry snapped her head up and searched his face.
“No, Keegan wasn’t one of them, but the encounter was just as disturbing.
They think our mother is a witch.” He recounted the entire interaction for Cash and Harry.
“I want to dismiss the incident as no big deal, but I’m worried about Hope. ”
“I don’t like it either,” Harry replied, “but Mom can handle herself. Gary will take all necessary steps to keep her safe.”
“I received a lengthy email from that Samuel guy this week,” Cash said.
“Most of it was arcane gibberish, but the gist is that he doesn’t approve of my hiring practices.
I’d like to dismiss him as a harmless buffoon, but true crime aficionados like us know better.
I just don’t know the best way to counter his influence. ”
Voices and laughter echoed down the hallway from the dining room, signaling the crew had arrived for dinner.
Finley caught himself listening for a particular voice as he removed plates from the cabinet.
Either Kieran hadn’t arrived, or he wasn’t joining in with the others.
Then again, his voice was soft and would easily get drowned out by the more boisterous tones.
“I got this,” Harry said, placing a hand on Finley’s arm when he opened the silverware drawer. “You go hang with the guys.”
Finley stepped away from the open drawer so Harry could resume the task. He looked at Cash, who was scowling down at his phone. “Are you coming, boss?”
Cash met his gaze and shook his head. “I won’t be joining you for dinner.
An unexpected opportunity has come up, and I don’t want to miss it.
” Cash slid off the stool, reached into his back pocket, and withdrew a white envelope with Kieran’s name scrawled on it.
“Would you mind handing this to Kieran? It’s his payroll advance. ”
Finley accepted the envelope. “Of course.”
“See you tomorrow,” Cash called over his shoulder as he exited the kitchen.
Another burst of laughter erupted from the dining room, pulling Finley’s head in that direction.
Harry put her hands on his shoulders and steered him a few feet forward. “Go.” She must’ve had second thoughts because she tightened her grip. “Just guard your heart.”
Finley chuckled and shook his head. He placed Kieran’s envelope next to the bag from his mom’s store and kissed Harry’s cheek. “It’s fine.”
“Not worried about it. I’m worried about my baby brother.”
“Whom you called a grown-ass man moments ago,” Finley reminded her on his way out of the kitchen.
He stepped inside the dining room and locked eyes with Kieran Sullivan, who looked better than any man should in double denim.
A faint blush stole across Kieran’s cheeks before he dropped his gaze to stare at the floor.
What the hell was that all about? Finley’s inquisitive mind wanted to know, but the information wouldn’t lead him to any place good.
It sure as hell wouldn’t guide Finley toward the mystery man his mom wanted him to meet.
Rueben took the seat next to Kieran and started talking.
Finley couldn’t hear what they said, but he enjoyed seeing the two men interact.
Talk about night-and-day differences in personalities.
One man didn’t know a stranger, and the other’s tense posture screamed “stranger danger.” Before Kieran arrived, Rue was the newest crew member.
Finley thought he was the quickest to settle in and the most improved out of all the guys.
Rue had seized his opportunity and run with it.
He was the poster child for what Cash wanted to accomplish for the men.
Meeting Kieran’s gaze once more, Finley suspected Cash had found another diamond in the rough.
Something alluring shimmered in Kieran’s dark eyes, and it took Finley a few seconds to realize it was a silent plea for help, which was like the bat signal to the broken-boy magnet.
Rueben’s friendliness probably seemed cloying to someone like him, so Finley took the empty seat across from Rue and engaged him in a conversation about blacksmithing.
A glance in Kieran’s direction revealed another slight blush and an inscrutable expression Finley couldn’t decipher.
But damn, he wanted to decode the enigmatic man.
No, no. He wanted to meet a nice guy who wasn’t carrying a ton of baggage.
Like the guy his mom wanted to introduce to him?
What was his name again? It started with an M.
If Finley continued staring into Kieran’s eyes, he’d probably forget his own name too.
He’d sure as hell forget his no-more-broken-boys rule.
Finley forced his attention to Rue, who was all too eager to tell him everything new he’d learned that week, but he pivoted the conversation around to Finley’s health.
“How are you feeling?” Rue asked. He’d kept his voice down, but the question seemed to pull everyone’s attention toward Finley.
“What happened?” Tyler asked.
“I’m fine,” Finley replied. He wasn’t aware he’d lifted his hand to touch the sore spot on his forehead until Kieran’s gaze followed the movement. Fin hadn’t been aware his eyes had shifted back to his newest employee either. He tried to recall the mystery guy’s name. Mitchell? Marcus? Matthew?
“Tyler didn’t ask if you were fine,” Ivan said. “He wanted to know how you got hurt?”
Finley forced himself to look at the burly foreman, who was staring holes through Kieran, instead of meeting his gaze.
“Well, I made a rookie mistake,” he replied, then embellished the story to make everyone laugh and pull Ivan’s attention back to him.
Rue added his two cents, and the entire table was laughing and teasing Finley when Harry brought in the first casserole dish.
She set it down on the buffet and recruited volunteers to help her transfer the rest of the food.
Finley pushed back his chair, eager to get a break from Kieran, but Kieran stood up as he rounded the table, and Finley nearly plowed into him.
Kieran gestured for him to go first, so Finley stepped around him and headed toward the kitchen.
They put the food and beverage pitchers on the buffet, then formed a line at the far end, where the plates, silverware, and napkins sat.
Finley fell in behind Kieran and tried not to stand too close.
He found it curious how the same soap could smell so different on everyone.
The familiar components of Irish Spring were present, but it somehow smelled deeper and lusher on Kieran’s skin.
Finley allowed his gaze to roam over Kieran, noting his wet hair and taut ass before a throat cleared behind him.
Finley looked over his shoulder at Rue, who smiled impishly and gestured to the sizable gap between him and the temptation in front of him.
Finley had gaped at Kieran long enough for the line to advance, and the hungry crew behind him was getting restless.
He couldn’t afford a mutiny, so he tossed a sheepish apology over his shoulder and stepped to the buffet to pick up his plate and utensils.
As much as Finley loved Harry’s lasagna, it didn’t always love him back.
He took a small corner piece, loaded a heaping portion of salad onto his plate, and snagged a hunk of garlic bread.
By the time Finley returned to his chair, Kieran had already tucked into his food.
Rueben resumed his seat and whispered to their newest recruit, but Finley picked out enough words to realize he was cautioning Kieran to eat slowly and be mindful that the food was richer.
Finley hadn’t thought about it much, but the abrupt switch from bland jail food to Harry’s indulgent dishes could wreak havoc on a person’s digestive system.
Kieran absorbed what Rueben said, then looked over at him. “Thanks,” he said. “I appreciate it.”
Never one who liked to be excluded, Finley leaned forward and whispered, “He just wants more for himself.”
Kieran’s lips twitched at the corners, but he didn’t smile.
Not yet. One day, Finley would earn one.
Damn it. This was how it started. A quest to make them smile would lead to other challenges.
Finley would work to earn a laugh and a gentle touch, then a kiss.
He’d obsess about kissing until it was no longer enough.
His gut clenched as he realized he might be the problem.
The guys who’d broken his heart hadn’t set out to do so.
Finley had gotten greedy, wanting more than they could give.
His fork fell to the plate with a clang, and the surrounding conversations halted.
All eyes were on him while he stared at his hands as if they’d failed him.
“I’d hoped this phase was gone for good,” Harry said from the opposite side of the table. “Between the ages of six and ten, my brother dropped everything.”
Finley leaned forward and turned his head so he could look at her.
He’d never gone through a clumsy phase, which she knew all too well.
His big sister was doing what she’d always done—bail him out of trouble.
Finley shot her a wink and said, “A kid breaks one thing, and his sister never lets him live it down.” He looked back at his plate, retrieved his fork, and scooped up another bite of tomato-y, cheesy goodness.
“Makes it hard to hold a grudge when she cooks this good.”
A smattering of chuckles bounced around the table, then the eating and chatting resumed.
“I can’t believe Cash missed this,” Tyler said, forking a bite into his mouth.