17. Dylan
seventeen
Dylan
The next day, I slip out of the restaurant after lunch service and use my visit to Finn’s place as an excuse to get a little exercise. I swap my chef’s whites for training gear, my black leather boots for running shoes, and let the earth pass beneath my feet as I jog around the hiking trails that crisscross Silver Leaf Ranch. I choose the left fork, then the right, then right again, never once second-guessing the best route to Mom and Dad’s old bungalow. I might not have time to explore the property the way I did with my brothers and sisters when we were kids, but some things you never forget. And I know every curve and ridge and rise of this land like I know the back of my hand.
I’m breathing hard and covered in sweat when I reach Finn’s porch steps, pausing a minute to lean on the railing and catch my breath. My parents built this hideaway here on the river as a private accommodation for overnight guests at Silver Leaf Ranch—but they never once leased the place out. It’s not much more than a studio with a loft for a bedroom, and it became something of a haven when they were in the throes of raising five kids. It’s grown a little ramshackle in the ten years since my mom died. Dad spent a lot of time here in the two years after that—I think he felt closest to her here—but then he was gone too, and neither Charlie nor I could bring ourselves to let strangers through its doors.
So, we boarded it up with promises to think about it again “one day.” Who would have guessed that Finn would show up before that elusive “one day,” returning home from active service and staking his claim on the place?
Standing here now, I’m reminded of how remote and secluded the place is, how calm it feels with the water and its short dock so close and trees encroaching almost up to the doorstep. But there’s also evidence of Finn’s handiwork in the patched curtains, repaired porch steps, and pruned garden beds, and it strikes me how kind of perfect this place is for our solitary middle brother.
When I’m breathing easily again, some of the sweat wiped from my brow with the hem of my t-shirt, I knock a few times on the old screen door, then let myself inside. Finn’s old rescue dog, a golden Lab he named Dakota, lurches off the sofa and, with a dignified kind of scramble, comes to greet me with her tail wagging and wet nose raised with curiosity. I give her a friendly scratch behind her ears.
“To what do I owe the honor?” Finn asks from the top of the ladder to the loft. When I haven’t given him an answer by the time his feet hit the hardwood floor, he shoots me a shit-eating grin. “It’s about Poppy, isn’t it?”
“Shut up,” I grumble, helping myself to his fridge and a chilled bottle of water. “And also…yes.”
“Take a seat, little bro, and tell me your woes.”
I came to make sure Finn kept his mouth shut, but now that I’m here, I’m in the mood to talk. I don’t even realize I want to get things off my chest until I drop onto the opposite end of Finn’s old sofa, Dakota drowsing between us, and my brother scrutinizes me like he already knows the inside of my mind.
“You like her,” he accuses with a tiny smirk.
“We all like Poppy.”
Finn rolls his eyes and drags his hand down Dakota’s soft back. “You like -like her.”
“Fuck off.” I take a long draw of water to give me a moment to think, but by the time I swallow, I’ve decided to confess all my sins. “And also…yes.”
“All right.” Finn gives Dakota’s head a final stroke before he settles back against the sofa and extends one thick arm along the back. “So…you want to know if she likes you back? Should I write her a note for you? Something like Do you like Dylan? Check Yes, No, or Maybe. ”
“You’re funny,” I retort. “And no. I already know she likes me. That’s the problem.”
“Am I supposed to feel sorry for you? Because you’d be damned lucky to land a girl like Poppy, especially with a face as unfortunate as yours. What the fuck is with the beard?”
His barb barely lands, and I drag a hand down my stubbled jaw. I wear it like this on purpose now because Poppy likes it.
“The problem is we’re fooling around—and that’s it,” I say. “That’s all it’ll ever be, so I need you to not tell anyone what you saw on our hike yesterday.”
“You mean the handholding and the heart eyes?” When all Finn gets is an unamused raised eyebrow in reply, his mouth turns down a little. “You’re serious. Okay. You want to tell me what’s going on?”
I sigh and shift forward, setting my water bottle on the coffee table, and then my elbows on my knees. Beside me, Dakota snores quietly.
“I don’t even know how to answer that. Like I said, we’re spending time together. Having fun.” I stare at the marks on my palms, the lines I was born with and the scars of my trade. “But she’s leaving in June for a summer job in Europe, then relocating to Maine in the fall, so it’s not like it’s anything serious.”
“Are you sleeping with her?”
I hesitate as my answer hovers between no and not yet .
“Don’t fuck around with Poppy.”
Finn’s tone is firm enough that I raise my head to check if he’s joking. He’s not.
“What? I’m not fucking around with Poppy.”
“Good. You’re my brother, and I love you, but Poppy’s family too. You break her heart, and I’ll break your fucking kneecaps.”
I thread my hands through my hair, elbows on my knees, and stare at the worn woven rug between my feet. Why does it feel like the heart at risk in this situation is mine ?
“There’s more,” Finn guesses. “There’s no reason to keep this thing between you two a secret unless there’s more.”
I sigh and straighten up. “There’s more,” I agree. “The first is I’m trying to keep Izzy out of this. I don’t have the luxury of falling in and out of bed with women, inviting them into a life that includes the affections and attachment of a six-year-old girl, only for them to leave her behind. Izzy’s confused enough by the relationship she has with her mother. I don’t want to further complicate her world with the idea that her dad is involved with her nanny.”
Finn nods slowly, his jaw tensing as he processes the risk that my bad behavior could have on Izzy’s well-being. “All right. I’m with you so far. But Izzy’s a kid. We’re adults. Why hide from everyone when you could just keep the truth from her?”
“Because Poppy promised Daisy she’d never get involved with her brothers.”
Finn blinks, and those minuscule shadows of emotion are the only indication he’s hiding some kind of reaction. Part of his training as a SEAL. He’s quiet so much of the time and prefers his own company, but when necessary, Finn knows exactly what to let show on his face—and what to hide. It’s enough to make me squirm.
He leans forward and turns an ear toward me. “She did what ?”
My sigh is exhausted because admitting this part out loud only drives home how stupid it sounds.
“Poppy promised Daisy she’d never touch me. Touch any of us.”
Finn clears his throat like he’s trying not to laugh. “I’m starting to think I was onto something with the note, only I’ll address it to Daisy, and the question will read Can Dylan date Poppy? Yes, No, or Maybe. ”
I fall back against the sofa and rest my head along the back. “Shut. Up.”
Finn hoots with laughter, making Dakota startle and look up at him with disappointment. “No. This is too good. It’s like we’re in high school again. And before you ask: yes, you have to finish your homework, and no, you can’t borrow my car.”
“It was back in high school,” I admit, indignation burning across the back of my neck as Finn smacks his thigh with satisfaction that he was right. “And you’re going to feel like a dick in a moment, because it was just after Mom died.”
That shuts him up. Finn was twenty-one when our mom passed, and he’d already been in the military for close to three years. I was nineteen, the two girls were juniors, and Finn wasn’t around when Daisy, Poppy, and I were finishing high school. He missed that part of our lives.
I lean forward again. “Daisy didn’t take it well. I mean, none of us did, but Daisy was barely sixteen, and she freaked out. She made Poppy promise to not date any of her brothers. An insurance policy against any of us breaking the bond between them.”
“Seriously?” Finn frowns and looks out the window to the trees surrounding the house, pockets of blue sky and sunlight peeking out between the winter-bare limbs. “But…why?”
I grimace and avoid Finn’s curious stare. “Apparently, girls would befriend Daisy to get to us, then ditch her when we didn’t look twice. The way Poppy tells it, Daisy made and lost friends on a regular rotation, and it stung. The only one who stuck around—and loved Daisy more than they wanted to get close to her brothers—was Poppy. After Mom died, Daisy was spinning. She was terrified of losing someone else.”
Finn’s cheeks puff up as he blows out an overwhelmed breath. “Okay.” He nods, still staring out the window, and says again, “Okay.”
“So, you see my predicament.”
“Not really, bro.”
I’m so certain that Finn will agree with me that it takes a while for his reply to land. “Uh… Huh?”
“What do you mean, huh ?” Finn shakes his head. “I get why it was important to be sensitive to Daisy at the time, but she was sixteen, and it was twelve years ago. In case you didn’t notice, we’re all adults now. I think she’d agree that things have changed. She’d understand.”
“And what if she doesn’t?” I insist. “What if my sneaking around with her best friend destroys her relationship with Poppy? We’ve already been hiding the truth for weeks. The lie already exists. It’ll be over in a couple of months, just a memory for both of us, and what then? Daisy is the most important person in the world to Poppy. She can’t lose her. I can’t be the reason they lose each other.”
“I think you’re creating something out of nothing.”
“ I think you’re under the impression that this thing with Poppy is more serious than it is.” The words are like poison on my lips. The lies just keep on coming. “We’re having fun. It doesn’t mean anything.”
Finn leans back in his chair, swings one ankle up to the opposite knee, and studies me as he absently runs his fingers through Dakota’s golden coat.
“You like it,” he says. “You like sneaking around.”
I scoff, but it’s forced, and Finn’s not buying it.
“It’s a little dangerous,” he adds. “It makes things more exciting. Hotter. The sneaking out and telling lies and hiding things. You like it.”
I sweep a palm over my jaw again, then drop my fingers onto the opposite shoulder and poke at that persistent knot before I let my hand fall to my lap. “I don’t like lying to Daisy, but…”
My gaze flickers to Finn’s, and something in his steady expression invites me to be honest. And I really, really want to.
“I like having something for me,” I admit. “I like the reminder that I’m not just a dad with a thousand responsibilities that always feel more important than the things I want and need for myself. I like having someone to touch and who wants to touch me. I like the reminder that there’s still time for pleasure and freedom in my life. I like believing that I won’t always be a single parent and that it’s possible for someone to love Izzy the way she deserves. That a woman might one day want my daughter as much as she wants me. And… And I like the way Poppy makes me feel.”
“And how’s that?” he asks softly.
“Hopeful. Happy. Relaxed.” My mouth twitches as I look at my hands again and recall all the things they’ve done these last few weeks. I think about kissing Poppy at The Tipple. Making her come against the tree. Punching Wade. Poppy cutting my hair. Our hike and the feel of her fingers twisted in mine. Every day, all those little moments grow bigger and bigger in my mind. “I feel like I’m getting to know myself again.”
I don’t even notice the silence between us until Finn’s smooth bass disturbs it. “Then I’ll keep your secret. I’ll let you lie to Daisy if that’s what you need right now.”
My chin lifts, and my eyebrows climb with surprise before they fall again with relief. “Thank you.”
“On one condition.”
Of course. Because when has a big brother ever made life easier? “What’s that?”
“You stop lying to yourself .”
It’s an effort to swallow. “What do you mean?”
“This thing with Poppy might be fun, but that’s not all it is. And you might fool Daisy. You might fool Izzy. You might even think you’re fooling me. But if you really think all you’re doing is spending a few months of hooking up with a girl as great as Poppy, the biggest fool here is you.”
No. My head shakes before the thoughts have time to take shape in my head. He’s wrong. He has to be because if I invest too much of myself in this thing with Poppy, I’ll be a fool reliving painful mistakes I swore I’d never make again.
“But Poppy—”
“I’m sure whatever you’re going to say makes sense in that thick head of yours,” Finn interrupts. “And I’m not going to argue because you’ve always been a stubborn asshole who thinks he knows better than everyone else. All I’m saying is I won’t say a thing to Daisy as long as you promise to think about what I said.”
Finn flexes his hand, knuckles cracking like he’s thinking about wrestling me into a headlock the way he used to when he wanted to get the upper hand when we were kids. I eye his thick hands and hard arms nervously. He’s a lot bigger now. A wall of solid tattooed muscle trained to subdue an enemy. I might have been wily enough to escape him then, but I don’t like my chances now.
Not that he’d really wrestle me into making another promise I couldn’t keep, right? We’re too old for that shit.
Finn stretches his neck from one side to the other, eyeing me with speculative malice.
“Fine,” I agree. “I’ll think about it.”
“You promise?”
“Yeah. I promise.”
What’s one more lie at this point, anyway?