Chapter 17 #2
“They’re just little people, figurin’ things out, same as the rest of us,” he shrugged like it was nothing, but I caught the way his eyes had softened when Madison had whispered back to him, the patience he’d shown when Rose had asked about his scars.
“Not everyone sees it that way.”
“Then not everyone is paying attention.”
“They’re going to hold you to that paper airplane promise.”
“Good. I make excellent paper airplanes,” his grin turned slightly wicked. “Though I should probably warn you, I’m going to teach them the best methods. The ones that actually fly fast.”
“You’re going to arm six-year-olds with precision aircraft?”
“Someone has to prepare them for the zombie apocalypse.”
I laughed despite myself. “You’re going to fit right in with this family. They love anyone who encourages their chaos.”
Finn’s expression shifted, seriousness replacing the humor in his eyes. “Alex, I…”
“Dinner!” Tony’s voice boomed across the yard, interrupting whatever Finn was about to say. I caught sight of Dom and Enzo helping carry serving dishes, my mom directing traffic, completely in her element.
“We should join them,” I gestured toward the scene.
“Yeah,” Finn agreed, shoulders falling, his eyes lingering on my face. I smoothed my expression, forcing all emotion to leave. “We should.”
He took my hand as we joined the line for food.
Everything smelled amazing and I was surprised at how hungry I was.
Finn held easy conversation with others as we moved through the line, filling his plate and offering to add to mine at certain points.
Every single thing he’d added was something I’d eat.
I’d only told him about tomatoes and walnuts, but he’d avoided olives, green peppers, anything with beans, and all the potato salads.
Either he’d been paying closer attention than I’d realized, or someone had given him a very comprehensive briefing.
“Brisket or pulled pork?” he asked, holding up tongs full of pulled pork.
“Brisket,” I offered an apologetic smile. “Pork gives me a stomachache.”
“These are things I should know, Alexandra,” he teased gently, setting brisket on top of my already full plate. I picked up utensils and napkins for us both as he expertly loaded a smaller plate with a slice of cheesecake and several cookies.
We navigated our way to where Enzo and Dom were already seated. Finn set everything down across from them before taking my plate, setting it down, and pulling out my chair. When he was satisfied, he left in the direction of the drink table.
Dom looked up from his food as Enzo made a show of examining what was on my plate.
“That was quite a show you two put on earlier,” Dom shoved a chip in his mouth.
“Oh stow it,” I wasn’t in the mood to rehash our introduction to the family. I’d very nearly forgotten about it; the insanity of the chaos machine having pushed it to the far reaches of my mind for the time being.
“Oo, me thinks she doth protest too much,” Enzo wiggled in his seat gleefully.
“Listen, bucko,” I did my best to sound stern though I knew it never worked on him, “if you keep it up, you’ll find yourself down a Maid of Honor.”
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” He held his hands up, smirk on his face. He didn’t look sorry. At all.
Finn returned with two cups of ice and a couple of cans of soda. Graham and Diana sat down next to Dom as Finn slid into his seat. I felt him tense and smoothed a hand over his knee, leaning close to whisper in his ear. “Be good.”
“Baby, I’ll be the best you’ve ever seen,” he responded low, a predatory smile tugging at the side of his mouth. “But I promise not to start anything.”
The energy at our table shifted immediately, conversation becoming more measured with Graham’s presence. He launched into enthusiastic commentary about the brisket’s seasoning while Diana nodded along patiently.
“This is incredible,” Graham declared, cutting into his second helping. “Tony really outdid himself. Diana, you should get the recipe so you can make it sometime.”
“I don’t really like to cook,” Diana replied quietly.
“Well, you should learn. Domestic skills are important,” Graham’s tone was full of casual condescension I remembered too well.
Enzo’s fork paused halfway to his mouth. “How wonderful that you’re so supportive of Diana expanding her skill set. I’m sure she’d love to hear all your thoughts on what she should be doing with her time.”
The sarcasm sailed completely over Graham’s head. “Exactly. A woman should know her way around a kitchen.”
Dom coughed into his napkin while Finn’s grip tightened on his fork.
“Speaking of skills,” Graham turned his attention to Finn and smiled. His grin too toothy, too straight. “What’s your long-term earning potential in your... situation?”
The table went dead silent. Even the music seemed to pause.
Finn set down his fork with deliberate care, his predatory smile returning.
“Well, I’m currently reviewing applications for a sugar mama, and Alex has excellent credit.
Even has her own company,” he shot me an exaggerated wink before letting his gaze move lower.
“And the benefits package looks outstanding, if you catch my drift.”
The absurdity of his response, the way he’d turned Graham’s invasive question into complete ridiculousness, the fact that he’d just announced to the table that I had excellent credit like it was a selling point. I had to join in his fun.
I leaned into him, my hand sliding up his thigh as I fixed Graham with my most professional smile. “He’s already pre-approved. Very impressive... portfolio. Biggest I’ve ever seen.”
Diana turned scarlet. Dom and Enzo snorted simultaneously. Graham’s mouth opened and closed like a fish.
Finn’s hand covered mine, thumb tracing over my knuckles. “I do aim to please.”
“Uncle Finn!” Madison’s voice cut across the yard, followed by the thunder of small feet. “You promised paper airplanes!”
Rose appeared at his elbow, tugging on his shirt. “Now? Can we do them now?”
More voices joined in as the chaos machine descended upon us. “You said after dinner!” “We ate all our vegetables!” “Even the gross ones!”
Finn let out a full deep laugh, tossing me an apologetic smile. “Duty calls.”
It took a while to find the right materials, but soon the kids were clustered around the kitchen island like eager recruits. Finn had promised them paper airplanes, and my nieces took promises seriously.
“The key,” Finn told them, smoothing out a sheet of printer paper, “is precision. Every fold has to be exact, or your plane won’t fly true.”
Madison leaned in close. “Like when you were a pilot?”
“Exactly like when I was a pilot,” he demonstrated the first fold, making sure each small face could see the technique. “Now, do this nice and careful like and then we’ll see if these things’ll fly.”
I leaned against the doorframe, watching him work with them for nearly twenty minutes. He moved between the kids with patience, adjusting angles, praising attempts, helping small fingers work through tricky corners. Seeing this side of him made my heart expand.
When they trooped outside to test their creations, I followed with my phone, capturing shots of paper aircraft sailing across the backyard. My laugh escaped as Madison’s plane executed a flawless loop before landing in the koi pond.
“Uncle Finn!” Rose called out. “Mine’s broken!”
Finn knelt beside her, examining the crumpled nose of her plane as she sniffled dramatically. “Not broken. Just needs a field repair.” He smoothed out the damaged section and made a small adjustment to the wing fold. “Try now.”
Her second launch sent the plane soaring in a smooth arc across the patio, the pure joy on her face infectious.
I moved to stand beside him as the last plane landed. “You’re a natural teacher.”
He glanced at me and shrugged. “Just helping them follow instructions.”
“No,” I squeezed his arm. “That was more than instructions. That was leadership.”