Chapter 20
TWENTY
Finn stood outside Shelf Care Central, clutching a small package and fighting the urge to turn around and drive home.
Through the window, he saw Ollie behind the counter, phone pressed to his ear, fingers tangled in his hair.
Even from here, Finn could read the tension in his shoulders, the tight set of his mouth.
Brooklyn’s right. If he finds out from someone else, it’ll be worse.
The thought propelled him forward. The bell above the door chimed as he stepped inside, the familiar scent of books and coffee wrapping around him like a comfort he might not deserve much longer.
“Hey,” Finn said, approaching the counter. “I got you that marketing book you’ve been talking about.” Yes, it was silly to buy a bookstore owner a book, but Finn hadn’t been able to think of any other gesture to ease his way into their talk.
Ollie barely glanced at the package as Finn set it down. “Thanks,” he said, distracted, ending his call with a frustrated sigh. “Sorry, I’m in the middle of a complete disaster.”
“What’s going on?” Finn asked, his own agenda forgotten in the face of Ollie’s obvious distress.
“Meghan Jackson just canceled on the romance showcase.” Ollie’s voice cracked slightly.
“Family emergency. Her mother’s in the hospital.
” He ran both hands through his hair, leaving it standing at wild angles.
“Which I completely understand, and I feel terrible about her mom, but she was our headliner. People bought tickets specifically to meet her.”
Finn’s stomach clenched. The showcase had been Ollie’s passion project for months, his chance to celebrate the genre he loved most. “Can you find another author?”
Ollie’s laugh was edged with hysteria. “A week before the event? Most authors are booked months in advance. Add in that we’re coming into the holidays, and it’d take a miracle to fill her slot.
” He picked up his phone, scrolling frantically.
“I’ve contacted everyone who might know someone.
Nobody’s available—at least nobody with enough name recognition to keep people from demanding refunds. ”
Watching Ollie pace behind the counter, stress radiating from him in waves, Finn felt something shift inside his chest. This mattered to Ollie, not just financially, but personally.
A chance to give romance novels the respect they deserve, to bring the community together around stories of love and hope.
Tell him, Brooklyn’s voice echoed in his mind. Before someone else does.
“What if I could help?” The words escaped before Finn could overthink them.
Ollie paused, looking up with desperate hope. “You know an author who might be available?”
Finn cleared his throat. “What if I could get you another author? Someone readers would recognize and you’d kill to have at one of your events?”
“Unless you’ve got Nora Roberts on speed dial, I’m not sure it’ll help,” Ollie said, his skepticism tinged with the grasping desperation of someone drowning.
Finn’s mouth went dry. “Not her, but… What about Rhett Wilder?”
Ollie laughed—sharp, stressed. “Right. Because the most reclusive author in romance is just going to show up at my little bookstore.” He shook his head, turning back to his phone. “I appreciate the attempt at humor, Finn, but I’m kind of in crisis mode here.”
“I’m not joking,” Finn said quietly.
Something in his tone made Ollie stop, really look at him. Finn held his gaze, letting the truth show in his eyes.
“What do you mean?” Ollie’s voice was barely above a whisper.
“I mean, I could get Rhett Wilder to come.” Finn took a breath that felt like stepping off a cliff. “Because I’m Rhett Wilder.”
The silence was absolute. Ollie stared, unblinking, his face cycling through disbelief and dawning comprehension.
“Again, not funny.” His brows were pinched as he scowled, anxiety and anger swirling in his expression.
“It’s not meant to be.” Finn’s voice stayed steady despite the chaos in his chest. “I’ve been writing as Rhett Wilder for years. The books you recommend, the ones you talk about…they’re mine.”
Ollie sank onto the stool behind the counter as if his legs had given out. “You’re Rhett Wilder.” Not a question—a realization. “The author I’ve been raving about. The books I’ve hand-sold to hundreds of customers.” His eyes narrowed. “The books I recommended to you.”
Finn winced. “Yes.”
“And you didn’t think to mention this?” Ollie’s voice rose. “In all our conversations about books, about writing—you never thought to say, ‘Oh, by the way, I’m that author you keep talking about’?”
The hurt in his voice cut through Finn like a blade. “I wanted to tell you. I’ve been trying to find the right moment.”
“The right moment,” Ollie echoed, his laugh hollow. “Like when I was literally gushing about your books? Or explaining to customers why Rhett Wilder’s work resonates so deeply?” He shook his head. “Those weren’t the right moments?”
“I know how it sounds—”
“Do you?” Ollie interrupted, his eyes bright with hurt. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you were deliberately keeping it from me.”
“It wasn’t about you,” Finn said desperately. “It was about keeping that part of my life separate. Protected.”
“Protected from who? From me?”
“From everyone.” Finn ran a hand through his hair.
“Once the stories started taking off online and I published the first book, I realized this was a way for me to supplement my income and do something I really love. But it’s not exactly a genre straight-presenting guys write in, and I wasn’t ready to come out.
Not as Finn the bisexual single dad, much less as Rhett the erotic romance author.
Can’t you see what that would’ve done to Brooklyn?
Kids are assholes, and I couldn’t let this hurt her. ”
Ollie’s expression softened fractionally. “Of course I get that. But there’s a difference between privacy and secrecy, Finn.”
The truth hit like a physical blow. He’d told himself he was being private, but with Ollie—with someone he was falling for—it had become deception. There had been so many opportunities, and Finn had ignored all of them.
“You’re right,” he said quietly. “I should have told you sooner.”
Ollie was silent, his gaze dropping to the event flyers spread across the counter. When he looked up, his expression was carefully neutral.
“So you’re offering to step in. To save the event.”
Finn nodded, hope flickering. “I could do the signing, the Q&A, whatever you need—”
“Rhett Wilder making his first public appearance,” Ollie finished. He laughed, short and disbelieving. “Do you have any idea how big that would be?”
“I hadn’t thought—”
“Of course you hadn’t.” There was less bite in Ollie’s tone now. “Because you’ve been so focused on keeping it secret.” He shook his head, a hint of his usual humor breaking through. “The irony isn’t lost on me.”
Finn felt cautious relief at the shift. “The truth is going to come out next month, one way or another, and I’d rather do it on my own terms. The Small Town Secrets series is up for a Golden Heart Award, and my agent’s been pushing me to attend.
I don’t want the first time the world sees my face to be at a stuffy awards ceremony in Chicago.
I want it to be here, with you. Now that I’m coming clean, I want to be surrounded by my friends and family, who will cuff me upside the head for blowing things out of proportion to the point it could cost me one of the greatest things that’s ever happened to me. What do you think?”
Ollie studied him with an intensity that made Finn want to look away. “You haven’t ruined us, but I need time,” he said finally. “This is a lot to process. Finding out the man I love is actually an author I’ve admired for years…”
Love. In the present tense. The word sent hope surging through Finn’s chest.
“I understand,” he said.
Ollie’s gaze drifted to the romance section, where Rhett Wilder’s books were prominently displayed. “For what it’s worth,” he said quietly, “at least this way you know I’m here because of you, not Rhett.”
The acknowledgment, offered despite the hurt, made Finn’s throat tight. “Even if you’d known from the start, I wouldn’t have doubted you. You’re too sincere for that.”
Awkward silence settled between them. Finn knew he should leave, give Ollie space, but fear kept him rooted—the terror that walking away now might mean things would never be the same.
“I should go,” he said finally. “Let you think. But, Ollie…” He hesitated. “I’m still me. This doesn’t change that.”
Ollie’s smile was sad. “That’s the thing, Finn. It does change things. Not because you’re my favorite author—that’s amazing. But because you didn’t trust me enough to tell me.” He looked away. “I’m not mad at you, but I need some time to process all of this.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, the words painfully inadequate. “For what it’s worth, I was planning to tell you today anyway. Before I knew about the event.”
Surprise flickered across Ollie’s face. “Why today?”
“I told Brooklyn last night. She helped me see I needed to be honest with you.”
A small smile tugged at Ollie’s mouth. “Smart kid.”
“Not sure where she gets that from,” Finn scoffed. He sure as hell felt like the world’s biggest idiot right now.
Ollie’s unexpected laugh eased some tension. “Liar.”
Finn smiled, grateful for the moment of lightness. “The offer stands,” he said, moving toward the door. “For the event. No pressure.”
“I’ll think about it,” Ollie said.
At the door, Ollie’s voice stopped him. “Finn?”
He looked back, hope flaring. “Yeah?”
“Thank you. For telling me the truth. Even if it took you way too long.”
Outside, Finn paused on the sidewalk, looking back through the window. Ollie stood behind the counter, his gaze fixed on the romance section where Rhett Wilder’s books caught the afternoon light.
The secret was out. The truth was spoken. Now all Finn could do was wait and hope that what they’d built together was strong enough to survive his revelation.
His phone vibrated in his pocket, startling him from his thoughts. Finn pulled it out, his stomach dropping when he saw Holly’s name on the screen. For a moment, he considered letting it go to voicemail. After the conversation with Ollie, he had nothing left to give. But old habits die hard.
“Hey, Holly,” he answered, his voice rougher than he intended.
“Finn! Thank god I caught you.” Her voice was bright, slightly breathless, with the familiar background noise that told him she was multitasking. “I’m not catching you at a bad time, am I?”
“It’s fine,” he lied, turning away from the bookstore window. He wasn’t about to tell her that his world was crumbling at his feet. Knowing her, she’d tell him it served him right. He hadn’t been a perfect partner by any means, but Holly loved to point out his failings. “What’s up?”
“I hate to do this, especially over the phone, but I wanted to let you know as soon as possible.” She paused, and Finn could picture her perfectly—tucking her hair behind her ear, the way she always did when delivering bad news.
“About winter break… I’m not going to be able to take Brooklyn after all. ”
Finn closed his eyes, a familiar resignation settling over him. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Don’t be like that,” Holly sighed. “Something came up with work. There’s a huge opportunity in San Francisco. It’s last-minute, but it could be really big for my career. I can’t pass it up.”
“And Brooklyn?” Finn asked, his jaw tightening. “What about her?”
“She’ll understand. She always does.” Holly’s voice shifted, taking on that cajoling tone that had once worked on him. “You know I’d take her if I could. But this is important, Finn.”
“More important than your daughter?” The words escaped before he could stop them.
A beat of silence. “That’s not fair.”
“No, what’s not fair is that I have to be the one to tell her. Again.” Finn ran a hand through his hair, aware of the curious glances from passersby. “She’s been looking forward to this, Holly.”
That was a stretch, but he wasn’t about to tell Holly that their daughter was used to her flaking out, that she was more upset about the prospect of missing out on time with her friends than she would be once she heard she wasn’t going to see her mother.
“I’ll make it up to her, I promise. Maybe spring break? Or summer? We could do something really special.”
The hollow promises were too familiar. “You need to tell her yourself.”
“I will, of course I will,” Holly said quickly. “But I thought you should know first, so you can…you know, prepare her. You’re so much better at handling her emotions than I am.”
Finn’s laugh was bitter. “Because I’ve had plenty of practice.”
“Finn, please. I’m trying here.” A hint of irritation crept into her voice. “Look, I’ll call her tonight, okay? Just…maybe give her a heads-up so she’s not blindsided?”
“Fine,” Finn said, too tired to argue. “I’ll tell her.”
“Thank you. You’re a lifesaver, really.” The relief in her voice made his stomach turn. “Tell her I love her, and I’ll call later to explain everything.”
“Sure,” Finn said, knowing the call would likely never come. Or if it did, it would be brief, unsatisfying, leaving Brooklyn with more questions than answers.
“I’ve got to run. Thanks for understanding, Finn. You always do.”
The call ended before he could respond, leaving him standing on the sidewalk, phone still pressed to his ear. Finn lowered it slowly, staring at the blank screen.
Of course this would happen today. Because one emotional disaster wasn’t enough.
He glanced back at the bookstore window, but Ollie had disappeared from view. For a moment, Finn’s fingers hovered over the screen, tempted to text him. To reach out. To not be alone with this.
But he deleted the half-formed message. Ollie needed space, and Finn had no right to burden him further.
Instead, he walked to his car, each step heavier than the last, dreading the conversation with Brooklyn. How many times had he promised her that her mother loved her, that she was important? How many disappointments had he tried to soften, excuses he’d made on Holly’s behalf?
As he slid behind the wheel, Finn rested his forehead against the steering wheel, allowing himself one moment of weakness before he had to be strong again. For Brooklyn.
Just once, it would be nice if someone could be the strong one while he fell apart.