by K. C. Enders
People slowly trickle in the day after.
St. Patrick’s Day is Francie’s favorite day, and while the tips are amazing that night, the day after is significantly less impressive.
Aidan texted me a very appreciative, Thanks, from both him and Lis.
Normally, my mind would head straight for the gutter, but he mentioned something the other day about a gallery showing or a photo shoot he had planned for this weekend. Between his talent and Addie’s new website, his photography seems to be taking off.
I busy myself for the first couple of hours, stocking the beer cases, wiping down the bottles of liquor, and putting the tables to rights.
Francie ambles in mid-afternoon, box of doughnuts in hand, and settles himself at the bar with a cup of coffee. “I thought Aidan was taking the kid’s morning shift,” he grumbles, rubbing at his tired eyes.
“He’s got some artsy shite to take care of, so I stepped in.” I open the box from the bakery down the street and pluck out the chocolate-glazed doughnut, popping a big chunk into my mouth.
The look of surprise on his face makes me feel good and terrible at the same time. If a simple kindness shocks Francie, then it might be time for me to make some changes.
“How was your evening with the girl?” He blows at the steam from his coffee.
“Lovely. She was absolutely lovely.” The door opens, and my words get lost in my smile. It takes over my whole face; biting it back is fruitless.
“Well, and there she is,” Francie announces, killing any doubt she might have had that we were talking about her. “Are you going to introduce me then, Finn?” he says, laughter dancing in his eyes. He can be such a prat when he wants to be.
“Addie, this is Francie.” I gesture between them, adding, “And, Francie, this is Addie.”
“Adelaide actually,” she states.
I’m not thick. I catch it every single time she corrects me, but she’s so bloody cute when she does it. Plus, I think she’s starting to like it.
“Finn, get the lady a pint. Sit down, love, and tell me how your evening was.”
Instead, I set a mug of coffee the way she likes it in front of her with a wink and smirk firmly in place.
“It was fine, good really.”
My eyes are trained on her mouth as she takes a sip of coffee and then licks a drop off the rim of the mug.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, she’s killing me.
I take a sip from my pint of Guinness as Francie asks, “And he was a gentleman? Kept his hands to himself, yeah?” The timing is unfortunate as I choke on a bit of foam, beer dribbling down my chin.
I’m stuck coughing, so I can’t even respond.
Addie, thank God, has more grace in the moment. She assures him that I was perfectly well behaved. I grab the box of doughnuts and offer one to her before grabbing another for myself. Taking a bite, I hope the doughnuts are a distraction, and they get off this topic.
She chooses the other chocolate-glazed and moans around a sizeable bite. I must be staring. I’m honestly not quite sure that I’m breathing because I heard the start of that noise last night for an entirely different reason.
“Right. I’ll just, erm…I have paperwork to do in the office,” Francie states as he slides out of his seat, chuckling. “It was a pleasure, Adelaide.” He nods and turns to face me, pinning me with all the fatherly warning he can cram into one look. “Finn.”
That look speaks volumes. He knows something. Nothing specific, but I’m thinking he has a good idea that I was less than honorable.
I wait until I’m sure he’s gone back before speaking. “Sorry about that. Francie can be a tad protective at times. He has a tendency to collect wayward youth and parent us.”
I take another generous sip from my pint, and her lips quirk up on one side.
“Careful. You don’t want to blow your load again.”
How she can deliver lines with a straight face like that is fascinating. I, on the other hand, struggle to swallow my beer yet again.
Wiping the palm of my hand down my face, I collect myself and answer with, “Maybe I do.” I hit her with the wink that’s almost automatic.
Addie looks away, dunking the doughnut in her coffee and giving me another moan.
“No, definitely, I do.”
Her lips are wrapped around a delicate finger, licking the sticky glaze clean.
Surely, I’m developing brain damage, considering how often my blood seems to flow rapidly away from there. Closing my eyes, I count to ten and silently recite a Hail Mary before clearing my throat. “So, what brings you in today? I can’t say this is normal, just stopping by.”
“Hmm…” She pops her finger out of her mouth and tilts her head back and forth. “I wanted to see what your weekend looked like. See if you wanted to, um…watch a movie…or hang out?”
“Addie, are you asking if I want to Netflix and chill?”
19
Adelaide
“If there’s a sock on my doorknob, don’t come in. It means I’m having sex.”
“Yeah, probably with the other one.”
Finn ends up working all weekend, covering for the new guy. There’s no way he can work with the twenty or so stitches in his hand and all the bandages.
Really, it’s okay. I have my crazy client’s website to completely redo. Again. So, I spend my weekend working on that, cleaning my apartment, and stroking my wiener. And reading.
But, when Finn has a lull at the bar, we text. All the texts. I’ve never really done this. It’s a little like peopling but not. Flirting with a filter—I can handle that.
Late Monday afternoon, my phone pings and vibrates while I’m hooking Eric up to his leash. My doxie is not big by any means, but he is a mighty little dick when properly motivated. He pulls and tugs his way down the sidewalk until he sniffs every tree, rock, and blade of grass, looking for the one that is magically just right.
I scramble to keep hold of the leash while checking my new message and trying not to drop my phone. Surprisingly, it’s a lot to handle.
Finn: Are you still in your meeting?
Me: Nope.
The dots bounce for just a second, and then his number pops up with an incoming call. It’s so weird to actually talk on the phone, and my skin feels itchy and tight as I hit the green button, answering, “Hey.”
“Hi. How’s your day? You met with a new client?”
“Yeah, someone Aidan referred. Um, it sounds like they want to work with me, so that’s good.” None of my calm and snark works on the phone. I feel put on the spot and stumble over my words.
“Excellent. Done enough of a deal to celebrate it?”
“Yeah. I thought—aren’t you working tonight?”
“I plan on getting off and buying you breakfast,” Finn responds. I can practically hear him wink with his comment.
“When and where should I meet you for food?” This is getting easier. I bite my lip and check to see if Eric is done yet.
“I might need a nap after, so eleven o’clock? And where depends on what you’re up for.”
“Who has good sausage?”
Finn’s groan turns to a chuckle, and he mentions a diner not far from the community center.
“M’kay. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say and end the call.
Kneeling down, I scoop Eric’s tiny poop into a bright-green bag and chuck it in the nearest trash can. “Let’s go, man.”
Breakfast lasts until well after noon with countless cups of coffee, a shared order of sausage, and ridiculous amounts of flirting. I really didn’t even know I had it in me to flirt. Usually, I stick with prickly bitch. It works for me.
“Here.” I pull some cash out to cover the bill.
“As if I’d let you pay for my sausage,” Finn scoffs, shoving the money back at me. “You can have it for free.”
I still roll my eyes at his cheesy comments but not quite as strenuously. I think there’s more to him than he lets on, and it’s kind of cute.
&n
bsp; “Thank you.” I slide out of the booth, and he places a hand at my back, guiding me out into the cloudy spring day. There’s still a chill in the air, and a shiver runs through me.
“Are you cold?” Finn starts peeling his jacket off, but I wrap my black cardigan around me and smile.
“No, I’m good.” I stop him. “I might just go to the coffee shop and work until it’s time for class. It’s warm there, and…” I shrug to heft my bag higher on my shoulder.
“They have tiramisu and coffee?” Finn adds, scooping said bag from my shoulder to his. He walks me to my SUV and settles me in the driver’s seat. “I’ll meet you there after I run by my flat. I just need to grab my laptop—unless you’re going to share your Tumblr with me?” Winking, he leans across me, setting my bag on the passenger seat. Crowding me, pressing me into my seat.
“Yeah, no. I, uh, have to do actual work.” His clean, citrusy scent surrounds me, invades my senses, as he slowly pulls his torso across me and smiles.
“Sorry, did I squish you? That was unintentional.” He lingers a moment before closing the door with another wink.
Did he always wink this much? Is it his contact lenses bugging him? I kind of miss the nerdy glasses sometimes.
Lost in conversation, we walk into class together after spending the rest of the afternoon in comfortable silence, working at the coffee shop. Or at least, as silent as Finn could manage. The timing and our newfound amiability do not escape the ladies. Maybe it’s the fact that Finn’s hand is on my back as we walk through the door.
“Well, finally,” Louise says as she pops open the top of her cookie container.
Setting my laptop and coffee on the desk, I scoff, “You know we don’t have a designated snack time for this class, right?” When I look up, eight sets of owl eyes greet me.
“Oh, Adelaide. Not what we were referring to, dear.” Virginia gives a side nod of her head toward Finn and waggles her eyebrows.
“You just make the cutest couple,” Connie declares, followed by a chorus of, “Adorable,” and, “Sweet,” and other sentiments I usually bristle at. All the descriptors that my dad wanted me to embody back home. He wouldn’t know what to do if he heard this crazy crew referring to me that way now. Like this.
My shoulders relax as I shake my head. “We went on one date. We’re not a couple,” I huff out, trying to blow them off a little.
My gaze is drawn to the back row where Finn is leaning his chair back on two legs with his hands clasped behind his head.
He smiles his cocky smile, replying, “Yet.”
All of those owly eyes look back and forth between me and Finn.
“Shit. And, now, we’re back to just a bunch of available old women in here, eating cookies. I signed up for a computer class, thinking I might meet a nice young man,” one of our first-timers states.
“Really, Delores?” Connie asks. “All the nice young men know how to check their email already. You want to find nice young men, you have to go to the gym. Hell, even the hardware stores only have young moms doing DIY projects or grumpy old men trying to get away from nagging wives for an hour or so.”
“It’s true,” Louise chimes in, plucking another cookie out of the box. “And is it even worth it at this stage? I’d rather just take care of things myself.”
Oh sweet baby Jesus, no.
“Maybe we should talk about scanning and printing documents?” I’d really like to avoid where I think this conversation is headed.
“Maybe what we should do is have one of those Love Nest parties,” Connie suggests, looking around the room. “You know, like a Tupperware party but with vibrators?”
20
Adelaide
“Hate to see you leave.”
“Oh, but I love to watch you go.”
My apartment is by no means large. It works for Eric and me, and really, I don’t have anyone else over. It’s my space. Just for me. In fact, I don’t think I’ve had anyone in since Eric was a puppy, and I had Chen set my takeout in the kitchen while I cleaned up an accident. That was months ago.
This is supposed to be casual, just our Netflix and chill, but after cleaning and straightening my living room three times, I decide I need a distraction. I dig through the pantry and find what I need.
The noodles are done, the four cheeses blended and melted into an amazingly smooth sauce. The bacon is crisp and crumbled. I assemble everything, unable to resist tasting as I go. With another heaping handful of cheese and the rest of the bacon on top, I slide the funky blue-and-green casserole dish into the oven.
Focused on getting things cleaned up before Finn arrives, I’m elbow-deep in suds. And he knocks. I grab a towel to dry my hands and hurry to the door, quietly opening it.
“Hey, come in. Quick.” I tug on Finn’s hand.
“Don’t want the neighbors to get jealous?” he asks while leaning back into the hall, looking left and right.
“Oh my God, just get in here, and keep your voice down.” The door finally closed, I pause with my finger on my lips and listen. Releasing my breath, I turn to Finn and smile.
“What was that about?”
And there it is. The thud of a body rolling off the bed, evidently taking my book and tablet with it.
“Is there someone else here? I thought you lived alone?” Finn looks totally disappointed.
“Yeah, brace yourself. That’s Eric.”
At that, Finn takes a step back and shoves his hands deep in his jeans pockets, disappointment turning abruptly to anger. His molars are grinding, his jaw twitching, cheeks flushing red.
“We’ve lived together for almost a year now.” I can’t contain my smile at Finn’s scowl.
“Right.” He nods and takes another step toward the door. He stops when I crouch down as the long reddish-brown body bolts down the hallway, skidding his back end out as he tries to navigate the corner.
I lift the doxie up and snuggle him into my side. “This is Eric.”
Finn’s jaw stops spasming, but his cheeks redden even more.
“Eric’s a dog,” he says, smile spreading slowly across his face.
“He is, and sometimes, he’s a real dick, too. He tends to bolt out the door, and he thinks he needs to go as soon as he wakes up, so I was hoping to sneak you in, so he’d stay asleep for a while longer.” I sigh, reaching for the leash. “Consistency is key with this guy, so I’ll just—”
“I’ll take him. It smells like you’re cooking?” He inhales deeply and grins. “Let me tend to your wiener while you finish up.” Scooping Eric out of my arms, Finn drops his voice, chuckling, “I’ll slowly stroke him till we’re out in public.”
“Christ, this is fucking amazing.” Finn groans around a bite of mac and cheese. “Orgasmic.”
It’s good, I won’t lie, but watching Finn enjoy it is so much better. “Do you want more?” I ask.
His tongue darts out, licking at the corner of his mouth. Swear to God, it does things to me.
Naughty things.
“I’d best hold back, so I don’t explode.”
My spoon clatters into the bowl at his words. Intentional or not, the double meaning zings through my core.
“Here, let me get that for you.” Finn takes our dishes to the kitchen, giving me a moment to calm my shit down. Not an easy task because the way those jeans hug his ass should be illegal.
“Do you have something queued up for the evening’s entertainment?” he asks, coming back from the kitchen with fresh glasses of water for us.
“Guest’s choice,” I respond. “Sorry, I should have gotten some beer or something for you.” I nod at the water glasses.
“This is fine. I can’t claim that you got me drunk and took advantage of me.” Finn grabs the remote and plops down in the middle of the couch, crowding me. Scrolling through the options, he finds a movie and starts it.
As he leans back into the sofa, he thrusts his hips up, sliding lower into the cushions before relaxing with a sigh. Shoulders melting, hand resting in
his lap, legs falling open. He’s completely comfortable while I’m wound so tight, I’m practically vibrating.
“The film is better than whatever it is you’re looking at.” He bites his lip, sliding his gaze to meet mine.
Suddenly warm, my cheeks flame, and I pull at my cardigan, settling it low around my arms. The air on my exposed shoulders does nothing to cool the fire burning through me as Finn traces my collarbone with his eyes.
“Maybe.” I try, really try, to turn my attention to the show, but I have to fight the constant urge to look at him.
His hand slides over my thigh, coming to rest with his fingers tantalizingly close to my core. He stops progress and squeezes, digging his fingers into my muscles. I close my eyes, tensing even more.
“Then again…” he says, lips brushing softly against the side of my neck.
His tongue darts out, tasting my skin. Licking a trail down to my shoulder.
I tilt my head, granting him even better access. He sucks and licks and bites until he’s pushed the strap of my tank top down to where my sweater sits, gathered at my elbow. His lips nudge at the lace of my bra. It’s one of the few I have that can tame my boobs, and it happens to be the sexiest one I own. Turquoise, lacy, and makes the girls look fucking fantastic.
“I love this color. The pale of your skin peeking through the lace.” Finn cups my breast, pushing it up, his thumb brushing over my hardened nipple. “The green tips of your braid splayed across it.”
He closes his lips around my breast, sucking on my nipple through the lace. I arch my back, a soft moan tumbling from my lips.
Finn lavishes attention on one boob while tugging my tank top lower, revealing the other. “Christ, I’d never have guessed that you were hiding the most perfect tits.” He licks deep into my cleavage—because, let’s face it, there’s a lot of depth there. “Fucking hell, Addie, you’re gorgeous.” He plants a kiss between the swells and meets my gaze. “And I mean more than just your magnificent tits.”