Chapter 5 #2
The man tipped his chin, which he guessed was goodbye, and accelerated in front of his pickup.
“Uncle Asher told me that no Bandit would ever be on my trusted people list,” Ally said.
“Good call,” Finch said, his eyes still on the bikers. They slowed in front of him and looked to the right, so he did, too, and saw her.
“Oh look, it’s Nina. Can you stop, Finch? She’s got a face cream for me.”
She was sitting on her front step, wrapped in a blanket and drinking coffee.
He could think of at least ten things he’d rather do than pull in there and talk to her right now, especially as he’d been a giant asshole the last time they’d seen each other, even if he had mouthed the word “sorry” in the back of Sawyer’s SUV.
“You need that face cream now?” He watched the motorcycles roll by and down the street.
Ally nodded.
“It’s not like you’re going to get wrinkles anytime soon.”
“Please?”
He turned into the driveway and switched off the ignition. Finch could just stay in the car, but one look at Nina’s face had him getting out along with Ally. She looked pale and sad.
“Hi, Nina. I came to pick up the face cream, and then my bicycle got a flat tire, so I had to get a lift from Finch. He’s building the extension to Mr. Becker’s coffee hut,” Ally said, talking fast like Blue used to.
Nina got to her feet after Ally’s explanation, smiling, which looked forced to him. She then backed up to the step above, putting her at Finch’s eye level. He didn’t miss the move for what it was—to put distance between them.
“It’s inside on the kitchen counter, Ally,” she said keeping her eyes on him.
“Cool. I’ll say hi to Mabel and get it.” Ally disappeared inside.
“Mabel?”
“A cat,” she said coolly.
“I heard about someone breaking into your house, Nina. Sorry that happened, and the car business.”
She shrugged but didn’t say anything.
“You don’t think that kind of thing will happen in Lyntacky,” Finch added.
Again, she remained silent.
“It’s freezing out here. Go inside and drink your coffee, Nina.”
“I don’t take instructions from you.”
He leaned in closer, running his eyes over her face. “You’ve been crying again. What’s going on?” He didn’t like seeing her upset. It unsettled him.
She sighed, a sad sound that came from deep inside her. “Not that it’s any of your business, but you’re going to hear anyway, so it may as well be from me. My mother died early this morning. I-it was expected,” she said.
“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt,” Finch said, the words gruff. “I’m sorry, Nina. Some people’s mothers are a part of us we never want to lose. Especially the good ones.”
“Sh-she was a good one,” she whispered, her voice shaky now.
“I’ve got one of those too.”
She nodded and then kept on nodding like she didn’t know how to stop.
He touched her cheek.
“It’s hard,” she whispered, looking up at him, and the expression in her eyes just about destroyed him. There was no sign of the fiery woman he’d always known. Today she was hurting.
“I bet. I’m not much of a hugger these days, but let’s give it a go,” Finch said moving closer.
Before she could stop him, he’d leaned in and wrapped his arms around her. He gently pulled her into his body and then just held her while she cried again.
The first sob wasn’t loud, but he felt it and tightened his grip, lowering his head to rest his chin on the top of hers. “I’m sorry I was an asshole at the Circle Left, Nina. It seems to be my M.O. at the moment.”
“I’m s-sorry too.”
“You didn’t do anything,” he said into her hair. It felt cold against his cheek, and he inhaled her scent. “You smell nice, by the way.”
That made her snort.
Holding her felt good. She fit into his arms perfectly, and her cheek resting on his chest felt nice—too nice. He hadn’t gotten close to anyone in a while. His family hugged him, and he tolerated that, but he never initiated it.
“Thank you, Finch.”
He released her and stepped back. “Anytime.”
“Now we both know you don’t mean that,” she said, forcing her lips up into a smile.
“True.”
“So, how come you’re building the coffee hut extension?”
Finch stuffed his hands into his pockets so they couldn’t reach for her again. Nina wasn’t a tall woman, but he’d always thought of her that way because her personality was so big. Today she looked small and vulnerable, and there was that stab of heat in his chest again.
“I think it was one of my family members who put him up to it, and I can imagine how the conversation went as they pulled up at the coffee hut window. ‘He needs a direction, Klaus. Something to help him heal.’ And then they would have worked out a plan to get me there to build the extension.”
Nina giggled at his words. “It’s only because they love you.”
“I know, but sometimes I wish they’d just let me be an asshole and get through this my way.”
“Will you get through it your way?”
He kept his eyes on hers, taking in the dark smudges underneath and the exhaustion in every line of her face.
“I don’t know. See you around, Nina,” he said as Ally walked out the door, holding her cream. “Take care, and I’m really sorry about your mom.”
“Thanks for the hug, Finch. If you ever need one, you know where to find me.”
He raised a hand and climbed back inside his pickup. Ally followed after hugging Nina first.
Finch backed out of her driveway and then shot the kid seated next to him a look. “Get out that useless phone your dad forced on you and call someone in your family, Ally. Nina’s mom just passed away. Ask them to look in on her.”
“Aww, that’s so sad.” She pulled out the phone and made a call.
At least within the hour, Nina would no longer be alone with her pain, and that made him feel a lot better.