Totally His

by Erin Nicholas

  Of course, they always brought food, so it wasn’t all bad. Still, this was easier. Jamie and his pub functioned as the hub of family communication. Everyone tried to stop in often enough that he could keep everyone else apprised of how they’d looked, how they’d sounded, what they’d eaten, and how long they’d stayed.

  Jamie pushed a beer across the bar. An Irish stout. Finn hadn’t wanted to like Irish beer best. It was such a stereotype. But it really was his favorite.

  “Hey, there was a guy in earlier asking about you,” Jamie told Finn, leaning an elbow on the bar.

  Finn took a swallow of the dark beer. “Oh?”

  “Said his name’s Frank. He said you met the other night at the theater.”

  Frank. Sophie’s dad. Finn frowned. “I slammed him up against a wall because I thought he was stalking Sophie. Then I gave him twenty bucks for a pizza.”

  Jamie, the bartender and family go-between, didn’t even bat an eye. He’d heard it all. “Well, he’s coming in around six. Told him you’d be here.”

  “Didn’t it occur to you that he might be an ex-con trying to get even with me? Or that maybe I didn’t want to see him?” Finn asked, taking another long drink of his beer.

  “I don’t want you to get lazy,” Jamie said with a grin. “I need you on your toes when you’re here. What if someone comes in and tries to rob me?”

  “Dick.”

  “Enjoy your burger.” Jamie set down the plate that his waitress, their cousin Shannon, had just handed him.

  Finn stuffed three fries into his mouth as Jamie moved down the bar to refill two whiskeys for the guys on the end.

  Frank Birch was coming to see him. That was…weird. How had Frank known to look for him here? Though honestly, that wasn’t as big a mystery as it sounded. Frank could have asked around. Finn had been a cop in this part of town long enough now that the neighborhood knew he was part of the Kelly clan that ran the best bar in the area. Hell, Finn had been behind the bar on more than one busy night.

  But why would Frank want to see him? And why did Finn have the urge to put a hand around Frank’s throat when he saw the man again?

  “Heads up,” Jamie muttered ten minutes later from behind the tap.

  Finn finished off his fries as Frank climbed onto the bar stool beside him. “Finn.”

  “Hey, Frank. What’s up?”

  “Came in looking for you earlier.” Frank gave Jamie a brief nod in greeting.

  “Get ya something?” Jamie asked.

  “Beer. Whatever Finn’s having,” Frank said.

  Jamie filled a mug and slid it to Frank. He gave Finn a look that Finn knew was asking if things were good. Finn scratched the side of his neck. That meant, “Yes for now but stick close.” All the Kelly cousins had come up with a series of hand signals when they were younger so they could communicate without the adults knowing what they were saying, and the sign language had proven just as convenient as they’d become adults themselves.

  “So what brings you to Kelly’s?” Finn asked Frank. It had been clear there was tension between Sophie and Frank the other night, and honestly, that was enough to put Finn on edge around the other man.

  Frank turned on his stool. “You’re very protective of my daughter.”

  “I am.” There was no sense denying it. Finn knew it was obvious, and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it.

  “I wanted you to know that I appreciate that,” Frank said. “As her father, I like knowing someone is looking out for her.”

  As her father. But if Frank was such a great, concerned dad, why did Sophie have a strict no-family rule with the guys she dated? She didn’t want to get involved with the big, crazy family stuff that was the Kelly family. And Finn couldn’t totally blame her. They were a handful. But he’d seen her watching them the first night when they’d all shown up to work with dinner in hand. She’d looked…wistful. She’d said he was lucky.

  “Well, no worries there,” Finn said. “I intend to keep a close eye on her.”

  “I’m glad she’s got you, Finn,” Frank said.

  Something squeezed in Finn’s gut. Sophie had him alright. Wrapped around her little finger. And it had happened quickly.

  “I’d do anything to keep her happy and safe,” Finn said. He made sure that his resolve was clear in his tone. He hadn’t said it out loud before this, but he meant it. Completely. Even if it meant coming between her and her dad. Maybe it was fast to be feeling this way. Maybe it didn’t make total sense. But it was very real.

  He’d always taken his time with relationships. He’d always had plenty of time to take. He hadn’t known the date when things would be over before this. Maybe he was feeling like everything was heightened and more intense with Sophie because they were packing their relationship into a month’s time. The way people who learned they only had a few months to live tried to pack everything they’d always wanted to do into that little bit of time.

  Or maybe it was just Sophie.

  “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Frank said.

  “Sophie’s safety and happiness?”

  “Yes.”

  Finn pushed his plate back and wrapped a hand around his beer as he turned to face Frank. “Okay. Let’s talk about that.” He knew Frank saw how serious this was to him.

  The older man swallowed and met Finn’s eyes. “I haven’t been a very good father.”

  Finn’s hand tightened around his mug, but he said nothing.

  “I haven’t been able to settle down. I’ve been restless, and I’ve…never been able to give Sophie a stable home. Her mom died when she was only two. And I’ve been lost ever since then.”

  Finn unclenched his jaw. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “She clearly likes you,” Frank said. “And your mom. They’re close, right?”

  Finn narrowed his eyes. Frank made him suspicious. Period. His gut was solid. When it told him something wasn’t right, it wasn’t right. “Yes, they are.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Frank said. “I love knowing Sophie has people that care about her.”

  “Frank,” Finn said, evenly and firmly, “what do you want from me?”

  “I want you to help me get back in Sophie’s good graces,” Frank said. “I haven’t done right by her, I admit that. But I don’t think it’s too late to start trying to show my daughter that I care about her and I want to be a good guy for her. I want to be in her life.”

  “You’re not in her life now?” Finn asked, watching the man carefully. He was good at reading people. But he could also spot a guy who was good at not letting people read him. That was Frank. He was too…perfect. His look of contrition, his mannerisms, his tone of voice. It all said that he was being completely honest. And that made Finn suspicious. He wasn’t the sunny optimist his mother was.

  “I want to be,” Frank said. “But she’s not letting me close. She doesn’t trust me.”

  “Does she have reason for that?” Finn didn’t have to admit to Frank the things he already knew—like the fact that Frank had never held a job for more than six months or that the women he married usually had money or that he’d done a stint in prison for identity theft. But then again, he had a feeling Frank would expect him to have done a background check.

  “She does,” Frank admitted. “I always took care of her—food, clothes, shelter. She was always physically safe.”

  Not sleeping in your car, you jackass, Finn thought, but he gritted his teeth and stayed quiet.

  “But not…emotionally,” Frank said. “I moved her around a lot. I took her away from what friends she managed to make in each new place. I took her away from the stepmothers that she grew to love. It was a lot for a little girl to go through.”

  Finn was torn between a powerful urge to go to Sophie, wrap her up, and promise to keep her safe—physically and emotionally—forever, to promise that she’d never have to say goodbye to someone she cared about again…and wanting to strangle Frank.

 
He’d hurt Sophie. Now she shied away from the idea of family because, as far as she knew, it never lasted. It was easier to go without than to say goodbye over and over again. But that was keeping her from having the love, laughter, support, and comfort of a group of people who would do anything for her.

  She had her friends, and Finn prayed to God that they were filling some of those gaps. But…it wasn’t the same thing as having a family of her own.

  It was no wonder Sophie wanted nothing to do with his family. She and Angie were close, but there was no reason to think she’d have to ever say goodbye to Angie. Unless she dated Angie’s son and then they broke up.

  Finn felt frustration tighten his shoulders and neck. Fuck. Sophie couldn’t take any more goodbyes.

  Which meant he should leave her the hell alone. He couldn’t give her any guarantees. And if being involved with him would end up hurting her…he’d rather stay away. Or just be her costar. Yes, he could do that. He could help pull off the play. He had to do that. But he could keep his distance otherwise. And keep her from his family.

  “So will you help me?”

  Frank’s question pulled Finn from his churning thoughts. “Help you what?”

  “Help me show her that I’m trying to be stable, settle down, be there for her.”

  “How can I do that?”

  Frank shrugged, and for a moment he did look legitimately downtrodden. “I need a job, a place to stay, a way to show her that she can trust me to stick around this time.”

  Finn watched the other man drink from his beer and then run his hand up and down the side of his mug.

  “You really want to stay around Boston? Settle down here to be close to Sophie?” Finn asked.

  Frank nodded. “It’s time. And I have to do it, just me. No women. No new stepmom,” he said. “I’ve depended on the women in my life to make the home and to give Sophie that sense of stability.”

  “And then you broke up with them and pulled that rug right out from under your daughter,” Finn said, his tone tight. “Again and again.”

  Frank nodded miserably. “I did. So this time, it’s just me.”

  Finn wasn’t convinced that Frank was here because of Sophie at all. But if Frank didn’t have a job or a place to stay, who knew how desperate he might get or what he might do? Would he find another sweet, unsuspecting single woman or widow to charm into letting him live off of her? That was his pattern. He’d never owned—or even co-owned—any of the houses he’d lived in. His wives had. And they’d all had decent-paying, solid careers. While Frank had only worked odd jobs. There had been relatively little time between one marriage and the next. It didn’t take a NASA scientist to see that Frank had found women who could support him. So if he was jobless and homeless, it wouldn’t be long until Frank set his sights on another woman who would take care of him.

  It might not be ending world hunger or keeping the ice caps from melting, but Finn could definitely feel good about keeping Frank Birch from finding a new target. And keeping him from hurting Sophie.

  He knew enough about Frank to know that the best way for Finn to protect Sophie was to know where Frank was and what he was doing. And if Sophie wanted to, eventually, ever, have a relationship with Frank, Finn could make sure it went well. And if she didn’t, then Finn could keep Frank away from her.

  “Tell you what,” Finn said. “I can help with a job.”

  Frank looked up, his eyes brighter. “Really?”

  “Well, you won’t have a 401(k), but yeah, I can get you work.”

  “Great. That’s all I need. I can start there and show her I’m trying.”

  “And you’re going to have to put up with the Kelly clan.” That was actually a big part of Finn’s plan. Not only would he take away any reason Frank might have for hitting on a new woman, but he’d also be able to keep an eye on him, with the help of his family.

  Frank actually smiled at that. “That’s not a problem. I’m easy to get along with.”

  Actually, Finn believed that. Frank Birch no doubt was easy to get along with—when that suited his purposes.

  “My cousin Gina is going to be going on maternity leave soon,” Finn said. “She cooks here at the bar. You think you can handle making sandwiches and burgers and stuff?”

  “I’ve been a short-order cook,” Frank said. “No problem.”

  Finn thought that Frank had probably done a little bit of everything. Which could be handy. “Let me go talk to Jamie,” Finn said, stretching to his feet. “You hang tight.”

  “Hey, Finn, thanks. I mean it. I know you care about Sophie, and I know she’s pissed at me, but this is really a step toward making her happy.”

  Finn’s gut clenched. He didn’t trust Frank to make her happy. Hell, he wasn’t sure he trusted anyone to make her happy. Except him.

  “Listen, I’ll take care of the job situation, but you’ll have to prove to Sophie that it means you’re really there for her,” Finn said. “That’s on you. I’m not going to plead your case or tell her to give you a chance or anything. You’ll have to do that work yourself.”

  Frank nodded. “I agree. That’s on me.”

  Finn took a breath, tamped down the feeling of what-did-I-just-do, and headed for the kitchen to tell Jamie he’d just hired Frank. Something he was probably not going to tell Sophie just yet.

  * * *

  Sophie turned a full circle in the middle of the room. The greenroom was where the actors waited in costume to go on. It was a mishmash of furniture, and the countertop that ran the length of the room under multiple mirrored panels was littered with random supplies: tissues, safety pins, needles and thread, wet wipes, black and brown markers for touching up shoe scuffs, makeup, and every color of face paint imaginable. All things someone might need at the last minute before heading into the wings.

  What it did not currently have, however, was any sign that Frank was staying here. Where was his duffel? Where were the empty food wrappers? Where were the blanket and pillow she’d brought in and left for him?

  There was nothing that indicated Frank had been sleeping here. A feeling of foreboding started in her gut, and she pulled her phone from her back pocket and dialed.

  He’d found a new woman. Already. Unbelievable. She definitely hadn’t been thrilled with him staying here and knowing all the comings and goings of the cast and crew for the show, but it had meant that he wasn’t sleeping in some poor unsuspecting woman’s bed, romancing her and sweet-talking her and telling her she was the center of his world so he’d have sex, and meatloaf, and cable. And not necessarily in that order of priority.

  Sophie wanted to warn the woman, wanted to tell her that Frank was just using her and was never going to change and to get as far away from him as she possibly could. But right now, she just needed to know that whoever was feeding and sheltering him did not have the last name Kelly.

  Frank answered on the fourth ring. “Hey, honey.”

  She gritted her teeth. The woman must be there for him to sound so happy to hear from her. “Where are you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I haven’t seen you in a couple of days, and I’m in the greenroom now and it’s clear that you haven’t been sleeping here.”

  “You missed me?” he asked, his surprise almost sounding genuine.

  “No, Frank. But when I know where you are, I also know where you aren’t.”

  “Well, isn’t that sweet.” His affectionate tone was for whoever was in the room with him. Sophie could picture the look he would have been giving her if they were in person. It wasn’t affectionate.

  “So who did you trick into taking you in?”

  “I’m staying with Joe, actually.”

  Sophie frowned. “Is Jo short for Josephine?”

  “No, I believe it’s short for Joseph.”

  She paused. “Didn’t realize that you were desperate enough to open your options up to that point,” she said drily. Maybe Frank had won a poker game or something and was letting
the loser pay him back with housing.

  “Joe Kelly,” Frank said, his voice losing a bit of the happy-to-hear-from-you of a minute earlier.

  Kelly. Sophie felt trepidation creeping up her spine. Joe was a man, but he was a Kelly. That wasn’t good.

  “Who is Joe Kelly?” Sophie asked, surprised to find that she was still clinging to hope. Hope that Kelly was a common-enough name in Boston that Frank had managed to befriend one who was in no way related to Finn and Angie.

  “One of Finn’s uncles.”

  Sophie felt her heart begin racing at the mention of Finn’s name. And not in the usual good way. “No,” she said out loud without really thinking.

  “No?” Frank repeated. “Yes, he is.”

  And that was why she didn’t keep a lot of hope around. Frank always managed to dash it.

  “What are you doing with one of Finn’s uncles?”

  “Oh, I’m staying on his pullout couch,” Frank said. “Joe’s been living alone since his wife died, and Jamie thought it would be good to have someone here with him.”

  “Jamie?” Sophie repeated. “Who’s Jamie?”

  “One of Finn’s cousins.”

  Oh, God. Sophie rubbed her forehead. “Frank, what are you doing hanging out with Finn’s family?”

  “Well, it all started when Finn and I were having a beer at the bar, and he mentioned they could use some extra help. So I agreed to take the job. And then Jamie, the manager at the bar, said that Joe had a pullout couch and said I could crash there.”

  Sophie wasn’t sure which thing to focus on first. That Finn had gotten a beer with her father, that he’d given her father a job, that his cousin had given Frank a place to stay, or that not only was Frank back in Boston and back in her life, but he’d insinuated himself into the group of people she was falling for in spite of herself. And had just ruined any chance of her getting any closer to them. Any of them.

  But, truthfully, she’d known it would come to this the moment when she’d heard him say he was back in Boston. She’d kept him away from Maya and Kiera and her other friends, and she’d tried to keep him away from the Kellys. She’d downplayed her relationships; she’d hidden her feelings. But this wasn’t just Frank going after people who mattered to her. This was those people reaching out to him. It was Finn reaching out to him.