Leaning Into Touch (Leaning Into Series Book 4)

by Lane Hayes

She tried a smile that landed like a belly flop off a high-dive. It was cringeworthy. “Because the past catches up with all of us. I can’t help thinking I’ve stolen something that never belonged to me and I can never give it back and—oh! There’s the timer. I’m going to get another round of drinks and scrounge up an appetizer for you boys. Be right back.”

  I waited until the screen door closed behind her then turned to Finn with a wide-eyed expression. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  Finn smiled. “I like her.”

  “Me too. She’s actually pretty awesome, but did you see that kitchen? It’s madness!”

  “She’s baking, not mainlining coke, Joshy. I’d say it’s a relatively harmless way to deal with her feelings.”

  “Hmph. What’s your way?” I asked, desperate to stop talking about the wreckage of my parents’ marriage. It was hard enough seeing her upset and knowing I couldn’t really help.

  “I don’t know. Working out, I suppose or—” He stopped and turned toward the house when Van Morrison’s “Moondance” suddenly blasted through an open window.

  My mom hadn’t updated the house with an indoor/outdoor sound system, which meant she’d propped an old boom box next to the screen and put one of her old favorite CDs or cassette tapes in and pressed Play. I had to laugh because it was so her. This was a fine example of a passive aggressive albeit sweet gesture to encourage a romantic atmosphere. It was her way of letting me know I should be concentrating on my own life and not worrying about hers. Van Morrison was probably specifically selected because he was Irish and she liked him…and she approved of Finn.

  I snickered as I shifted in my chair. “She loves Van.”

  “So do I. Want to dance?”

  “Uh. Here? In the backyard?”

  Finn stood and held out his hand. “Yes. Here. Now. It’s a marvelous night for a moondance,” he quoted.

  I took his hand and let him pull me from my chair but I was rigid and uncooperative. I couldn’t help it. This was so…new. We’d never danced together. Ever. Not in a bar, a club or even in his living room. And never in the moonlight. Or twilight, I amended, looking briefly at the heavens. My heart expanded in my chest, leaving me breathless and unsure.

  “My mother’s going to come out any second.”

  Finn brushed my hair from my forehead and snaked his arm around my waist. “I’m fairly certain your mum won’t mind. Either way, I’m willing to take a chance. Come, love. Just one dance.”

  I gave him a shy smile and stepped into his arms then set my right hand in his and let him take over. He rested his cheek against mine and swayed from side to side before gently spinning us in a half circle. The sweet, romantic glide was reminiscent of a scene from an old-time black and white movie. It was magic. He was magic. But fuck, it made me nervous. We’d gone from estranged fuck buddies to friends to this. I was desperate to label whatever this was because in my mind it was “boyfriend-y.” Dancing in his arms was crossing a line into new territory. Wasn’t it? As he squeezed me closer and hummed in my ear before spinning me around, I felt dizzy. The way I imagined anyone did when they realized it was the moment they’d fallen in love.

  9

  The drive back to the city was quiet. We were both lost in thought or maybe we were coming down from a sugar high. I usually avoided eating my mom’s baked goods so I wouldn’t inadvertently encourage her unique brand of madness. Tonight, I made a meal of brownies and the cheese and crackers she’d offered later then washed them down with beer until my stomach demanded me to stop.

  It had been a relatively pleasant evening. By unspoken agreement, we set aside uncomfortable topics and pretended this was my spur-of-the-moment chance to introduce my mother to the guy I was kind of crazy about. Mom talked Finn’s ear off about our Irish ancestry and the few cousins she thought might still live in County Limerick. He was kind enough to seem genuinely interested. He even taught her a few Gaelic words and had her giggling girlishly when he attempted to correct her pronunciation. In short, he was charming, she was mildly infatuated, and I was…head over heels.

  She sent us off with a plate of brownies and made me promise to bring “my boyfriend” when I came home next time. Finn didn’t seem bothered by the title, but I was overwhelmed by it and wary of the strength of my feelings. Especially as the night wore on and the novelty of his presence in the house where I grew up took on a significance I was tempted to quantify. But this wasn’t a show and tell moment where we emptied the contents of our pockets at the same time to prove we had the same amount of marbles. I had to trust I wasn’t alone here but frankly…I had my doubts. And sitting with a plate of Mom’s brownies on my lap wasn’t helping.

  “We need to chuck these in the trash immediately,” I groused. “She’s ruined brownies for me forever now. I can’t even look at these without getting a stomachache.”

  “More for me. They’re delicious,” Finn said as pulled into his garage. “You’re very lucky, you know.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re jealous of my never-ending supply of desserts,” I joked.

  “No.” He cut the engine and turned to face me in the semi-dark. “But I do think you hit the parental jackpot. They’re both lovely people who adore you and accept you. What a gift that is, Joshy.”

  “In spite of the brownie mountain debacle, I agree.” I stepped out of the car and shoved my hand through my hair, no doubt sending it into Einstein levels of wildness.

  “Brownie mountain debacle. Is that what we’re calling it now?” he asked with a laugh as he led the way upstairs to the main floor, turning on lights along the way.

  Finn tugged at my wrist when I headed for the next flight of stairs and pulled me against him. He kissed me softly, smoothing his hands over my hair as he tilted his head and licked my lips in a request for entry. We made out on the stairs until oxygen deprivation became an issue. Then he smacked my ass and pointed toward the bedroom.

  “Go on. I’ll be there shortly. I’m going to put my brownies away so you aren’t tempted to bin them.”

  “Hide them well,” I advised.

  I headed to the master suite and took a moment to admire the perfect blend of modern elements in the otherwise traditional room. The king-sized platform bed neatly made with a khaki linen duvet and framed by contemporary library-style reading lights. The walls were white, the drapery was beige striped linen, and the furniture was dark. It was a relaxing neutral space but it was the large colorful photographs of the Irish countryside that always caught my attention. They were gorgeous.

  The dramatic emerald green cliffs and stormy seas were pieces of Finn’s home, just like the suburban relic we’d visited tonight was mine. I turned with a sigh to the master bath, unbuttoning my shirt as I reached for my toothbrush. Some days, just the sight of our toothbrushes resting together in the ceramic cup on the marble counter made my heart race. We hadn’t been doing this for long, but the daydream that we could be something special was a sweet one. That dance immediately sprang to mind. I sighed then stripped down to my boxers, cleaned up, and headed back to the bedroom. Fuck, I was a head case tonight.

  I peeled back the duvet then turned with a start when Finn bumped into the door carrying a tray. He raised his brows lasciviously as he moved toward the bed.

  “Perfect timing. Jump in bed, love.”

  “What is all this?” I asked, hopping onto the mattress.

  Finn waited for me to settle in before placing the tray next to me. “A light snack. I was still hungry. Grapes, strawberries, carrots, and hummus. And water. Tuck in.”

  “Tuck in?” I teased, admiring the view as he slipped his shirt from his broad shoulders and then unbuckled his belt.

  “Basic translation is ‘eat.’ ”

  “I just brushed my teeth.”

  “I should do that too. I’ll be right back.” He toed off his shoes and stepped out of his trousers before making his way to the bathroom wearing nothing but his underwear and black dress socks. My dick twitched appreciativel
y at the sight. I glanced down at the tray to distract myself and idly picked up one of the water bottles.

  “Hummus and toothpaste are an iffy combo, you know,” I called out.

  He came back into the room mid-brush to roll his eyes at me before returning to the bathroom. I chuckled as I uncapped the bottle and listened to the homey sounds of him moving around in the next room. I was a sucker for the little things. Mind-blowing sex was awesome, but I kind of got off on sharing simple bedtime rituals. It was a newer development in our “relationship” and while I wisely reminded myself it might not last forever, I was determined to soak in every moment.

  “Let’s see if you’re right. Pass the hummus,” he instructed.

  Finn perched himself on the mattress next to me then bent to pull his socks off before turning to face me with his hand outstretched. I opened the container and pushed the bowl of carrots toward him.

  “Here you go. Proceed at your own risk.”

  He swiped a carrot through the dip and took a bite. “Not bad. Try it.”

  “Maybe after the minty fresh taste in my mouth mellows out. I’m surprised you’re still hungry. You ate more brownies than me.”

  Finn shifted on the bed to face me and crossed his legs. “Are you judging me?”

  “Yep. And I shouldn’t after what you witnessed tonight,” I huffed humorlessly.

  “What did I witness?” he asked, frowning as he reached for another carrot.

  “You got a backstage secret viewing of a documentary on the perils of family dysfunction.”

  Finn snorted. “Your family is far less dysfunctional than most.”

  “I’d agree, but my mom is a serial baker, Finn. It’s not the same as a serial killer, but it’s still not a good thing,” I snarked.

  “It’s not the world’s worst thing either. Has she always baked like this?”

  “Yes, but lately, it’s accelerated…times ten. When she gets in this mode, it’s like a switch flips and she becomes a baking robot. She goes to the market to stockpile ingredients then stays up all night, working herself into a state of exhaustion. Measure, mix, assemble, repeat. She barely sleeps or eats. She still goes to work, thank God. But when she gets home, she bakes. And bakes. It would be different if she was auditioning for a spot on a Food Network show, but she doesn’t go for flashy or inventive recipes. She uses the same ones over and over. Brownies, chocolate chip cookies, lemon bars, snickerdoodles…”

  “How long does this last?”

  “A couple of days or about twenty dozen cookies or brownies…give or take a few. Her current output was hella epic. She must still be upset about Dad and Lars and I don’t get it.”

  “She probably feels guilty.”

  “About what exactly? I can put some of it together but I don’t understand the way she communicates. It’s confusing and crooked and truthfully, I think it hurts her more than any of us.”

  Finn held my gaze meaningfully then let out a ragged breath.

  “Guilt is a heavy burden, Josh. It’s easy to say, ‘Get over it,’ but it’s not always easily done.”

  “You sound like you’re speaking from experience,” I said, cocking my head.

  “Everyone feels guilty at some point or another.” His tone was light, but I noted the sudden shift in his posture and his hooded gaze. The change was infinitesimal, but it felt like a blast of frosty air in an otherwise warm room. I pushed the tray away to free the edge of the linen duvet and cover my feet. “Are you cold?”

  “No, I…”

  Finn stood abruptly and picked up the tray then moved to the door. “If you aren’t going to eat anything, I’ll take this downstairs now. Do you want more water?”

  “Uh…no.” I shook my head.

  “Lie down then. I’ll be back.”

  I stared at the space he’d vacated for a long moment then scrambled out of bed and followed him. I hurried to the stairs but slowed halfway down when I realized I wasn’t sure what I was doing. My instincts told me to pay attention, but I couldn’t do that if he walked away. Plus I had no idea what I was looking for. Like he’d said, everyone felt guilty at some point. Hell, I felt guilty I’d eaten five brownies tonight.

  I rounded the corner to the kitchen and found Finn gazing into space with his hands braced on the counter. His back was to me but he must have sensed my presence. He turned to face me and smiled wanly.

  “I changed my mind about the water,” I said.

  Finn raised a brow then gestured toward the pantry. “Help yourself.”

  “I’d rather use a glass if you don’t mind. We should be more mindful of our carbon footprint.” I opened a cabinet and pulled out two glasses. “Want one?”

  “No, thank you.”

  I joined him at the sink and filled my glass. I leaned against the counter and took a sip, wracking my brain for an opening that didn’t scream awkward. “I could use some ice.”

  I moved to the freezer and grabbed a couple of pieces then dropped them into my water and returned to his side. Think, think, think.

  “Are you ready for bed?”

  “Soon. Have you ever been to Iceland?” I tried lamely.

  “Uh…no. Have you?” Finn flashed a lopsided grin at me then crossed his arms over his chest, clearly intrigued with my odd non sequitur.

  “No. I was just thinking it’s fairly close to Ireland so…maybe.”

  “No. What’s really on your mind, Joshy?”

  “You. Ireland.”

  “Tá Éire álainn.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Ireland is beautiful. Like you.”

  “Where do you go when you go home? You said your family lives in Dublin now and you did too for a while but…what about the place you grew up? Do you still see your friends? Do they ever visit you here?”

  “What are you after, Josh?” he asked in a thick brogue.

  The glint in his eye was slightly dangerous now as though he was warning me to proceed with care. It wasn’t lost on me that we were both in our underwear, but while he looked like a fierce, battle-worn warrior, I knew I didn’t. It took every ounce of willpower I had to hold his stare without flinching.

  “I want to know your story. The Ireland part.”

  Finn let out a low menacing chuckle. I gulped when he moved toward me, backing me against the counter like a panther caging his prey. He looked intimidating and downright scary. I tried to smile but I couldn’t do that and maintain eye contact at the same time.

  “Ireland, eh? That story is over.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so. Something happened to make you leave. You didn’t want to go. I can tell. Maybe it’s the past…over and done, but it haunts you. You said you know what guilt feels like, the way my mom does. I believe you. You feel guilty and I—I want to know why.”

  He didn’t move a muscle. I could practically see tension course through him and settle into his limbs, paralyzing him. Sure, I was curious but now, I was worried. I wished I could retract my question or think of another one to chase this away. But with every passing second, the silence took on a life of its own. The question became a statement. A poignant one with the power to strengthen and take on a physical form. I almost gasped in relief when he finally glanced away and shrugged nonchalantly.

  “Life happened, Josh. It always does, but that part can’t touch me now. Come on. Let’s go to bed. I have to get up at five.”

  I pulled his arm when he started to walk away. “What can’t touch you? Y-you said guilt is a heavy burden. Lay it down, Finn. Leave it here.”

  “Over a decade has passed since I left home and—”

  “No. That was when you left Dublin. That’s not when you left your home. I’ve been paying attention. Home is where you grew up. It’s where you lived before you went to college. It’s where your mother is buried.”

  He frowned. “My mother died in Dublin.”

  “But she isn’t buried there, is she?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”
/>
  Finn gave me a “what the fuck?” look. “Da didn’t want her in the city. It was where she died. Not where she lived.”

  “Why isn’t he with her then?”

  “Because he’s still alive,” he replied testily. “Jay-sus, Josh. My parents have nothing whatsoever to do with my reason for leaving or—”

  “Maybe not directly, but something happened.”

  “I didn’t murder anyone if that’s what you’re worried about,” he retorted derisively.

  “Maybe you didn’t do anything that’ll put you in the pokey, but you think you did.”

  Silence.

  “I know what I did.”

  “What?” When he didn’t answer, I tried again. “Okay…if guilt were brownies, would you have more or less than what you saw at my mom’s?”

  Finn swiped his hand over his stubbled jaw and let out a half laugh. “More. Ten times more.”

  “That’s a lot,” I prodded when he didn’t continue.

  “Aye. I suppose it’s appropriate to be standing here in me underwear. You’re not giving much room to hide, are you? So here goes…I was unfaithful.”

  “Huh? To whom?”

  “My wife.”

  Oh. Crap.

  Wife?

  I didn’t expect that. At all. Nor did I expect to feel like I’d taken a shot in the gut. I stared at him with my mouth open for a full minute before setting my water glass down with a shaky hand. It was too cold to hold now and so was I. I was freezing, actually. Inside and out.

  “You were married? When? I—” I gave up trying to string words together. I couldn’t comprehend what he was telling me, which was silly. I knew he was bi. But married? “Are you still married?”

  “No, we divorced years ago.”

  “Who is she? Are you still friends?”

  “No,” he answered woodenly. “I haven’t seen her in a long while. Her name was Mae. We met at school when we were sixteen. We were only friends. I think she wanted more back then but I didn’t and I couldn’t figure out why. I had this constant storm inside my head. I liked Mae. She was pretty, smart, and fun to be with. We made a nice couple. That’s what everyone said. My mother especially. She loved her. I didn’t understand my lack of interest, but I thought perhaps I needed to put in a little more effort. So one day I kissed her. The earth didn’t stop turning and though it was nothing like kissing you, it was nice. Over time I convinced myself that I wanted more with her. Eventually, I convinced myself that the sex was good and that I wanted to be with her forever.”