Finn (The Casella Cousins Book 3)

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Finn (The Casella Cousins Book 3) Page 9

by Kathryn Shay


  After, she said, “We said no affection at work.” The protest was weak.

  “I know. I’ll be better the rest of the day.”

  Lazing back in the chair, she stared over at him. “Whew! Ronan.”

  “Yeah, let’s go out to lunch together and I’ll tell you some of it.”

  “I think we can do that.”

  “One more thing. I want to be with you again tonight. All night.”

  “Fine by me, boss.”

  He laughed.

  They went to lunch at Bailey’s Pub.

  No O’Neils in sight, so he leaned over and grasped her hands. “Millie, what made you change your mind about going to the next level?”

  “Ronan. Even amidst the drama, I kept thinking how much time he lost. What he missed with you two.”

  “Don’t blame him.”

  “I don’t. That wasn’t what I was saying. It hit me that I didn’t want to waste any more time in my life.”

  “I don’t either.” He brought her knuckles to his mouth. Just as Dylan showed up.

  His friend stepped back. “Wow, I didn’t know about this.”

  “It’s a recent development,” Finn told him.

  A big O’Neil grin. “Good for you.”

  “Yep, it is that. Can you sit?”

  “If it’s all right with Millie.”

  “Sure.”

  “I want to tell you about something I’ve been thinking.”

  “Great. Then I’ll fill you in about the meeting with my lawyer.”

  “I’m concerned about the length of time blocking Markham Management through the Community Board and petitions. I’m wondering if we should try to find investors to buy it ourselves.”

  “Yeah, Jake was concerned about that, too.”

  “Tell me what else he said.”

  Finn did, but left out the part about saving his own store by buying it as a retail site instead of a condo.

  Dylan nodded. “Maybe investors are the way to go.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” He thought about Ronan’s offer of money. But boy, he didn’t want to take any more of his father’s bequests.

  * * *

  Molly and Fitz were both crazy…Clothes scattered everywhere…Kissing her in bed…her mouth luscious…the salty taste of her skin…She felt so good…he devoured her…She was so wet, she had to have him now…She lifted her hips…He thrust inside her…Her head was going to burst…Oh, God.

  * * *

  Chapter 7

  * * *

  Millie smiled over at her Grandmother. “Can I help with dinner?”

  “Ask your grandfather.”

  Finn lazed back in a big recliner, which matched the one grandpa sat in. Finn told her how grandpa had found him in his skivvies that morning after they made love, only two days ago and they’d apparently formed a connection. “You do all the cooking, Henry?”

  “I do.” He gazed fondly at his wife. “Enid never had much interest in the kitchen.”

  “How’d you manage it when you were both working?”

  They said together, “Take out.”

  “And when Millie came along, your mother stayed home with her for a while, and cooked for us then. We managed. Do you cook, Finn?”

  “His idea of a home-cooked meal is takeout from a nearby restaurant.” That Millie could tease him like this was a gift.

  “She’s right. However,” he said peering over at her grandpa. “I might like a few lessons from you, Henry.”

  “You’re on.” He glanced at his watch. “Come on out, I’ll teach you how to make salad.”

  “You don’t just throw lettuce into a bowl?”

  “Hush your mouth, boy.”

  Their conversation trailed off as they reached the kitchen.

  Grandma turned to her. “You care for him, don’t you, dear?”

  “I think I’m in love with him.”

  “I think you are, too.”

  “He’s a complicated man.”

  “Funny about those things. I used to say the same about Henry back when we were your age.”

  Now that flabbergasted Millie. But it portended well for hers and Finn’s relationship that in fifty years life would be smooth sailing for them.

  Dinner was lively. As an Octoberfest meal, grandpa had made sauerbraten, beef marinated in vinegar and simple spices. The meat had slow cooked all day. He’d prepared potato pancakes, carrots and cauliflower. And they drank beer with their meal, probably a first for Finn.

  “Hmm,” Finn said. “The meat melts in my mouth.”

  “The potato pancakes are so light, Grandpa.”

  After dinner, Millie and Finn cleaned up in the kitchen. He swiped a taste of frosting from the German Chocolate Cake she’d made for dessert. “Stop that. Clear the table.”

  “Yes, dear.”

  Before he did, he stole a kiss from behind then patted her on the rear.

  “Frisky, aren’t you?”

  “You’ll see, later.”

  When they left the house, they stood out in the cold October night and watched Scout do his business, then the three of them climbed the steps. Once inside, he spun her around. Ignoring them these days, Scout wandered off to find a toy, and Finn pressed her up against the wooden door. He kissed her searingly. “Here?” she asked.

  “Yep, babe. Right here.”

  * * *

  “Cold?” Finn asked the next night, when he and Millie walked out of Fitzgerald’s to canvas three blocks with petitions.

  “No, I’m not.”

  He nonetheless tucked her scarf closer around her neck. “You shivered.” He gave her a peck on the nose. “And not in a way I cause.”

  “Did I? I feel fine.”

  They headed down the steps to one of the small apartments right next door. Finn knocked. When an older woman dressed in a matching blue shirt and pants opened the door, she smiled broadly. “Hello, Finn. Millie.”

  Mrs. Murray had been a bookseller in her time and her husband had had a successful business, which was why she could afford to live in this area. “How’s the store?”

  “Plugging along.” This from Finn.

  She gestured to the petition. “What’s that for?”

  He explained to her their issues. He could hear the concern in his own voice.

  “Lord in heaven, I don’t want fancy condos next door.”

  “It could go even further,” Finn told her. “Did you get any rental notice from Markham Management?”

  “No.” She pulled her glasses up from her nose to her eyes. “Where do I sign?”

  She did her part. “If you need any phone canvassing, Finn, call on me.”

  “Will do.”

  “Goodbye, Mrs. Murray.” Millie squeezed her arm. “Come over soon and we’ll take a new look at our rare books together again. I’ve added some things.”

  The older women got a kick out of seeing literature she knew as a girl selling for so much more money now than then.

  When they got back on the street, Finn drew her close. He smelled like the October night. “You’re sweet, Millie Morrison.”

  “Gee thanks.” She linked arms with him.

  They visited more dwellers like Mrs. M, and also two restaurants, three delis, an apartment complex where they knocked on all the doors, and a small café. Finn stopped then. “Want coffee?” They both drank it at night.

  She scrunched her nose. “I’ll have hot chocolate.”

  They ate biscotti with their drinks and then went back out to get more signatures. “We’re only half done,” she commented when they checked the list. “If we split up, we could do this in less time.”

  He hesitated. He wouldn’t order her to do anything because she hated that.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “You’ll get mad at me if I tell you.”

  “Ah, you don’t want me canvassing alone.”

  “Sorry, can’t help how I feel.”

  “It is nighttime. And I would be more comfortable with another person, especi
ally in the apartments, so we should stay together.”

  Finn’s jaw slackened. “Who are you and where is my cranky manager?”

  She raised a dark brow. “Your manager is not cranky.”

  They kissed across the table.

  Two hours later, Finn called Jonah to pick them up. Exhausted, they fell into bed at his house. They watched TV for about five minutes and fell asleep.

  * * *

  “You want to do what?” Finn asked her a few nights later.

  “I want to go to the Little Theater. It’s not far from your apartment.”

  “I know where it is, but Millie, I have a very large TV here and we can stream anything that strikes your fancy.”

  “Don’t you miss the smell of popcorn, the sudden appearance of the movie on a huge screen, the music amplified?”

  “I have a popper and surround sound. So, no, I don’t miss all that.”

  “Hmm. I guess it’s because you’re so much older than me.”

  He pushed her out flat on his couch, where they sat. “Take that back. You already said our age difference wasn’t an issue.”

  “I’m reconsidering. If you’re too old to go to the movies…” She lowered her hand to his groin. “I’m wondering what else you won’t find appealing.”

  “Try me, babe.”

  She giggled, he laughed then drew her up.

  They left his place at eight and headed to the small cinema, a holdover from movie theaters of the past. A bit dilapidated and seriously un-remodeled, the marquee was unlit and the inside was draped with red velvet. How it stayed alive, Finn didn’t know, but movie goers poured into the lobby. “See, I told you these were still popular.”

  “Truthfully, I’m shocked. I never even asked what they were playing. The marquee is dark.”

  “This week they have a Fitzgerald’s festival.”

  “As in F. Scott?”

  “Yeah. The Great Gatsby, The Last Tycoon, The Last Time I Saw Paris, and Tender Is the Night.”

  He stopped dead in his tracks. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

  Her eyes twinkled. “To tease you.”

  “This is great, honey. Thanks.”

  “For finding them?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  They walked inside the theater, and Finn was struck by how much Millie was expanding his world.

  * * *

  Millie tugged up the hoodie on her heavy sweatshirt, and hid her hands in the sleeves. A chilly mid-October wind had descended on them.

  “Are you cold?” Erin asked.

  Millie had been preoccupied this morning and didn’t prepare for the weather. She didn’t even take Scout with her. “Yeah. Hell, you were smart to wear the coat and gloves.”

  Her dark brows furrowed. “We can go back.”

  “No, I want to walk. No racing, though. I’m…sluggish today.”

  “Not like you. Did something happen with Finn?”

  A lot had happened with Finn in the last few days. “He’s working desperately to gather petitions and bring them to GVSPH. We’ve done some of it together, but he’s bordering on obsessiveness.”

  “Why wouldn’t he, Mil?” She squeezed Millie’s arm. “The store is his life. His livelihood.”

  Selfishly, Millie didn’t want the store to be his life. Because she wanted more than that in hers. “All true. I haven’t said anything and he doesn’t know I’m frustrated.” She stopped at a bench. “Can we sit?”

  Erin frowned. “Actually, I do think we should go back.”

  “No, I need fresh air. I’m working at eleven and I’ll be inside the rest of the day.”

  They sat. “How long ago did you have a physical?”

  “Two years ago. I had a follow up this year. Blood work. I’m fine. I’m just tired from all the activity in my life.”

  “Are you getting your period? Maybe that’s why you’re sluggish.”

  “Um…” She looked away. “My period’s late. By a week.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “I’ve been late before. In my teens, I skipped them a month sometimes. My cycle’s gotten more regular as an adult, but not like most women’s”

  “It wouldn’t be horrible to be pregnant now, would it? You and Finn are getting along well.”

  She frowned. “It’s a terrible way to start out. Our relationship is so new to both of us. To have something like a baby laid on him, during the bookstore stuff, would burden him even more.”

  “Want to find out?”

  “A pregnancy test?”

  “Yeah, it’s a little early but they say five days after conception can be detected.”

  “It might ease my mind.”

  “Why don’t I go pick the test up after I dress for work, then come over to your place?”

  “I can go to a drugstore.”

  “No, I’ve got a car and you don’t. You’re tired out. Which of course is another symptom.”

  “I don’t think I am, Erin.”

  An hour later, Millie came out of the bathroom after she’d peed on a stick. “Not pregnant,” she announced.

  “Are you glad?”

  “Yeah. Like I said, our relationship is not ready for kids yet.”

  “I understand.”

  “Want a ride to work?”

  “Yeah, sure.” But as they left her house, Millie didn’t know if what she told Erin was true. She’d always longed to be a mother.

  * * *

  Finn walked into Millie’s house that night after work, feeling hopeless and keyed up at the same time. She was in the kitchen stirring something. “Hmm, that smells good.”

  “Minestrone soup. I’ve got bread warming in the oven.”

  “Can we have a drink, first?”

  “Uh-huh, what would you like?”

  “Whatever you have.”

  “I bought you some Scotch.”

  “I walked over to clear my head. It didn’t work. But I need to use the bathroom if that’s okay.”

  “Sure.”

  Inside the bath, he threw cold water on his face and stood in front of the mirror and stared at himself. The reality that he could lose Fitzgerald’s had hit him smack in the face today when they turned in the petitions. The Community Board, it turned out, wasn’t due to meet again for ten days. The petitions had all been signed, but Marian Dorton had warned them it might take a while to get a decision from the board. Worse, Jake had said the judges were swamped with injunction requests, so they still didn’t have that.

  He ran a wet hand through his hair and reached for a towel. None was on the bar or near the tub. He reached over to wad up some toilet paper and saw a box behind the wastebasket. He picked it up to throw it away…and froze. The big EPT in red lettering glared out at him. Another stark reality dawned. Millie was pregnant.

  Or maybe not.

  He walked back out holding the box. He tried to keep a lid on his emotions but he was saturated by what had already happened today. She approached him with a glass of scotch and a glass of wine for her. He held up the box.

  Her face paled. She gazed up at him. “I’m not pregnant.”

  He sighed. But that didn’t explain everything. “Why did you do the test?”

  “Because I’m late.”

  “How much?”

  “Only seven days.”

  “I’m not exactly sure how this works. Is the test accurate?”

  “Ninety percent of the time.” She glanced away guiltily. “But not when it’s this early.”

  “So, you really don’t know if you’re pregnant.”

  Now Millie’s face flushed and she put her glass down. “I feel like I’m being interrogated, Finn. And I don’t like it.”

  “And I don’t like the fact you kept all this from me.”

  “Because you’re overstressed. You’ve got so much on your plate, I didn’t want to add anymore.”

  He couldn’t let it go. “What were you going to do if you were pregnant?”

  “Te
ll you.”

  “Then what?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “We’d have options.”

  She let out a heavy breath and held his gaze. “I’m fully in favor of a woman’s right to choose. I’ve gone to rallies for Roe vs. Wade.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “But I know in my heart I couldn’t have an abortion, if that’s what your comment means.”

  “Don’t I get a say in this?”

  “No. You don’t get a say. It’s my body.”

  “It would be my kid!” His voice raised.

  She waited. “Don’t you think it’s stupid to fight over a hypothetical baby?”

  “Not at all.” He slugged back some of the drink. “We need to have this conversation,” He leaned against the kitchen table. “I never said I wanted kids.”

  Her whole face changed. Shock. Disappointment and a little fear melded together. “D-don’t you?”

  “Truthfully, Millie, I’m not sure. But I’ve never seen myself as a parent.”

  She stared over his shoulder, then stepped back. “I need to think about us, then.”

  He wanted to protest, to rail that he needed her now. But she was right, she needed time. “Yeah, I guess you do.”

  He set the drink down. “I should leave.”

  “You should.”

  “You’ll let me know what you decide?” His gaze fell to her stomach. “About everything.”

  “Yes.” He got halfway to the door and turned back. “I’m sorry, Millie.”

  “I am too.”

  He walked outside and down the steps. He didn’t think he could feel any worse than he had over losing the bookstore, but he did now!

  * * *

  “You’re what?”

  “I said I was late.”

  He crushed the box he held in his hand. “And…”

  “The test says no.”

  “These things aren’t accurate.”

  “How do you know?”

  Jesus, why hadn’t she been more careful. “I know. If you are pregnant, that’s a dealbreaker for me.”

  “Dealbreaker?” It killed him to say that, but it was true.

 

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