Chapter 21
He’d watched Nina leave and felt something heavy settle in his chest. That woman was becoming important, and he wasn’t ready for that. It wasn’t the right time for either of them.
Mindless sex? Hell yes, he wanted that, but it could never be mindless with her, so he needed to back away.
She’d just lost her mother, and there was plenty of other shit she was dealing with, so he should leave her alone. Nina had plenty of friends who could look out for her, she didn’t need him.
“Don’t know about you, man, but I’m exhausted. Give me a wall to build any day because this barman shit is hard,” Ryder said around a yawn as they finished in the Rollaway.
“Amen,” he said, shrugging on his coat. “But shouldn’t you have said, ‘cake to bake’? Aren’t your big brothers the builders?” Finch asked.
“I can still do it, I just don’t choose to.”
“Nice,” Finch said. “I sure wish everyone in this town would ask you to build their crap for them then and not me.”
“I have my shit together, unlike you, so they think you need their help to get yours sorted,” Ryder said. “Nice coat.”
“Does everyone in town know that June Matilda forced me to buy Caleb’s castoffs?” Finch asked.
“Pretty much. Not sure about Mrs. C.’s son because he can’t see past the end of his nose, but everyone else is aware,” Ryder said.
“I hate this town,” Finch muttered.
“Nah. You love it. It’s just like a really tight shirt that’s hard to shrug off sometimes, especially when they think you need their support,” Ryder said.
“I really don’t,” Finch added.
“Nice work, boys—anytime you want to be barmen, just let me know,” Red said, joining Ryder and Finch. He handed them each some cash. “Go and sleep now. I can tell it was hard on you.”
“No stamina,” Dee said from behind the bar. She looked as fresh as she had when she’d entered.
Maybe fresh wasn’t the word, Finch thought, looking at her face slathered with makeup. But the same.
He said goodbye and headed outside with Bradford.
“Later, man,” he said, slapping his hand.
“Yeah, later. I’m going to sleep for twelve hours.”
“Sounds like a solid plan,” Finch agreed.
He headed for his pickup. Starting it up, he sat staring out into the darkness for long seconds.
Go home.
His body had reacted to Nina every time their eyes met and when they’d got close tonight. “Ignited” was more appropriate. She’d known what he’d been feeling and thinking, just like he had when it came to her.
“Fuck.” Putting the pickup into gear, he aimed it toward home—his home, not hers.
There was no sign of Lynx when he stepped inside, so he must have done his drop-off and jumped into bed.
Finch took a shower and did the same. After putting his glasses carefully on the nightstand, he climbed under the covers, still wide awake, and let thoughts come and go until exhaustion finally pulled him under.
His last thought was of Nina. Was she waiting for him?
Something woke him.
Sitting up, Finch could tell it was still the early hours of the morning.
Switching on the lamp, he picked up his watch and confirmed it was 2:00 a.m. Waking in the middle of the night was nothing new for him.
It happened all the time since the accident.
But this was different. He could feel it, a prickling at the back of his neck that he hadn’t felt in a long time.
A sensation that something wasn’t right.
Finch got out of bed, pulled on some sweatpants and a T-shirt, and walked through the cottage in the dark. He opened the back door, stepped outside, and looked around. It was cold and still. Nothing out here seemed off. Sniffing the air, he didn’t detect any fire or smoke.
What the hell had woken him?
“What’s going on?” His brother wandered out, yawning, and then yelped as his bare feet hit the cold decking.
“Why are you awake?” Finch asked.
“I heard the floorboards creak, and I wasn’t asleep.”
“It’s 2:00 a.m. Why aren’t you asleep?”
His brother shrugged, which told him nothing, but he’d deal with that another time.
“Something feels off, which could be nothing, as I often wake in the middle of the night,” Finch said, looking around them before returning his gaze to his brother and seeing what he had on. “What the fuck are you wearing?”
“A kimono. A fan gave it to me,” Lynx said, looking down.
“It looks more like something Mom and Dad would wear, and there was me thinking you were the cool McAllister sibling.”
“Oh, I’m cool, bro. Never forget that.”
“Whatever. I’m going to have a drive around.” Finch headed back inside.
“Where?”
“Around.”
“Around where?” Lynx persisted. “It’s winter, freezing, and there is nowhere to drive around but the town. You can’t even get a coffee.”
“Well then, that’s where I’m driving, and I know it’s winter because, like you, my toes are numb,” Finch said, moving past his brother and heading back to his room. He pulled on a sweater and shrugged into his jacket, then put on socks and his sneakers and finally found a beanie.
His brother met him at the front door, wearing a full-length puffy black coat that reached his calves and a beanie with his band’s name on it. On his feet were Ugg Boots.
“What the actual fuck?” Finch said, pointing at him.
“I’m warm. Now shut up and let’s go.”
It was snowing when they stepped outside. Not heavy, but enough to make the roads slicker.
“Christmas time and snow, the perfect combo,” Lynx said climbing into the passenger’s seat of his pickup. Finch got in the driver’s side and soon they were heading down the driveway.
The road into Lyntacky was empty at this hour, the headlights cutting a narrow path through the blackness.
By morning the roads would be lined with white powder, and tree branches looking magical sprinkled in snow.
The sky opened up into something vast and cold before them.
Stars. More of them than Finch ever remembered seeing in a city, thick and scattered.
“Are we just driving randomly because your spidey senses are tingling, or do you have a destination in mind?” Lynx asked, cranking the heater to full blast.
“I’m just driving.” He felt foolish now that they were in the vehicle. A hunch had him driving with no destination in mind. What do you think you’re going to find, Finch? He had no answer to that.
“Did you know Lyntacky is now a dark-sky community?” Lynx said.
“A what?” Finch shot his brother a questioning look.
“They restrict their lighting to soft yellow to minimize the light and reduce sky glow. Trip installed 3000K LEDs,” Lynx said.
“You’re not serious?”
“Totally. It saves energy and money, and protects local wildlife.”
“What local wildlife do we get in town besides the odd deer and raccoon?”
“It also improves sleep and enhances public safety because unshielded bulbs create shadows for people to skulk about in,” Lynx added, ignoring his question.
“How is it you know this shit?”
“I read, you uneducated moron,” Lynx said calmly. “Maybe when you’re done feeling sorry for yourself, you can start doing that again. You used to be the second most intelligent McAllister behind me, but don’t tell our sisters I said that.”
Finch didn’t answer. His eyes were going left and right as he turned onto the main street and Lyntacky came into view.
His town at 2:00 a.m. was something else entirely, especially with the soft falling snow.
The streetlamps threw down pools of amber that sat low against the ground, soft and warm, nothing like the harsh white lights of a city.
The shop fronts were dark, but the fairy lights strung along the main street were still on, thousands of tiny points of gold threaded around doorways and window frames and wrapped around the lampposts.
Finch had driven through plenty of places in his life and called none of them beautiful like this.
“When are they turning the lights on?” Lynx asked as they passed the huge, still dark Christmas tree.
“A few days before the bake-off I believe.”
“What’s the deal with that?”
“Mrs. C. told me tonight the judging will take place in the Swing Through Café, due to the weather being unpredictable, and that the judging panel is Ryder, Dee, Callum Taylor, and Nina.”
“Callum is Robyn Duke’s man and Leah Reynolds’s uncle, right?” Lynx asked.
“Yup. Apparently Mrs. C. is making cherry pie, and it’s a family recipe that should win.”
“It probably will. That woman is a force of nature, and the intimidation factor alone would have me picking her pie.”
“True that.”
“That friend of Zoe’s, Lil, is a piece of work. She tried to tell me that the band is selling out.”
“In what way?” Finch asked.
“She said our older music drew fans in, but as our popularity has increased, we’ve changed what we write to be more in line with other bands.”
Finch could hear that had pissed his brother off. “Are you?”
“No, of course not.”
His brother’s words didn’t totally convince Finch, but he left it alone for now. Clearly Lil had touched a nerve, and Lynx had reacted.
“So what’s our first stop in this totally random drive that makes no sense to anyone but you, bro?” Lynx asked around a yawn.
Finch turned onto Blue and Jay’s road and cruised past their house.
“Looks all good there, and I can’t imagine Blue in her current state will let anyone break in.”
“True, she was well under the influence when you drove her home. Plus there’s Jay—the guy who has contacts we can’t even imagine all over the world,” Finch added.
“That too.”
He didn’t go to Sawyer’s because they were safe tucked down the end of their road, he was sure of it, and if Finch was honest, he’d only driven past Blue’s house to throw Lynx off the scent.
His real destination had always been Nina’s.
Something was making him tense, a low and steady pressure in his chest that had nothing to do with the cold, and he was certain all to do with her.
“So after all the red herrings and pretending it was for family, why are we really driving by Nina’s place?” Lynx asked.