Wild Irish_One Wild Finn

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Wild Irish_One Wild Finn Page 12

by R. G. Alexander


  William’s voice lowered dangerously. “Careful, Matty.”

  “Does she know what you did? For us, I mean. To keep us together and safe after Dad lost it all betting on the wrong fights before he died?”

  “She knows some.” He didn’t like to think about the circumstances of his parents’ death. They’d loved their children. They may not have made the best decisions in the end, but that’s not how he wanted to remember them. “Why do you ask?”

  “Because it matters.”

  “Not to you.” He closed his eyes, swearing silently and damning himself for the sad sack of self-pity he’d become. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

  Matthew leaned back in his chair and shook his head. “But you’ve thought it. And that’s because we let you down. Because we didn’t appreciate how much you suffered. We thought you were out living the good life, drinking and brawling while we were stuck paying the piper and forced to make good.”

  “Matty, no.” William reached out for his brother’s hand but he’d crossed his arms, more protective than defensive.

  “Billy, yes.” Matthew sighed. “We’re both sorry, you know. Calamity too, though you know she has an allergy to apologies of any sort. We’d been keeping our distance since we got here out of guilt, nothing else. Because we thought we were clever and we didn’t see what was happening until it was nearly too late. But that was wrong as well.”

  William forced out a laugh despite the tightness in his chest. “There’s no shortage of bad decisions in this family, is there? But we did all right in the end. You, the both of you, belong here.”

  “And you,” Matthew challenged. “You belong as much, if not more. Hell, you’ve made a convert of the chief of police. And this even after you married his sister-in-law on the sly.”

  “I can’t stay here, Matty.” He looked down at his hands clenching on the table. “If it means I’m weak, then I’m weak, but I can’t be this close to her and stay away.”

  She’d divorce him, move on with her life, and maybe even find another man now that she knew she could. And he’d still be following her around. A lonely, pathetic shell still in love with her. He couldn’t live like that.

  Matthew was silent until William finally looked up for some response. “I understand,” he said with an affectionate smile that made him look much younger. “But you owe me some brotherly bonding before you go. Can I drag you out for the day?”

  He’d already packed, but he wasn’t planning to leave for another day or two. Murphy wouldn’t expect him until next week, and Matthew didn’t make an offer like this every day.

  “As long as it isn’t Finn’s Pub, I’m in.” He didn’t want to chance his cousins ganging up on him again.

  “Great,” Matthew popped up as if he’d been sitting on a spring. “Grand. We’ll take my car so you can’t escape. After you shave.”

  “You want me to shave?” William laughed. “I swear you weren’t old enough to grow more than a few patches on your cheeks when we got here. Is there something in the food? Steroids?”

  “Feck off.” Matthew shoved him with a grin, scratching his beard. “Women love it. Lumbersexual is the word.”

  “You’re having a go.”

  “Look it up. Now that I think of it, maybe you shouldn’t shave. With all those spots of yours, a beard might age you up a bit.”

  “They’re called freckles. And women love them too.” But he rubbed his scruff thoughtfully. “I’m ready now then.”

  They continued their banter on the drive, and William was grateful. He couldn’t remember the last time he and Matthew had just enjoyed each other’s company. He was glad that relationship, at least, could start to heal before he had to leave.

  “We’re close to the pub, Matty.” William frowned as he noticed the neighborhood. “You said we weren’t going to Finn’s.”

  “And I didn’t lie. We’re here.”

  William studied the large building suspiciously. The name was covered up with a drop cloth above the glass door, but it looked like… “A gym? You never wanted to spar with me before.”

  “Still don’t,” Matthew said cheerfully. “I’m not the fighter in the family. Come on.”

  “Matthew.”

  His brother stared at him somberly over the roof of the car. “As a favor to me, I’m asking you to come inside.”

  A knot formed in the pit of his stomach. He’d lived by his instincts and right now they were telling him that something was up. “Tell me Bell didn’t do something rash.”

  Bellamy had married Seamus and, having more money than God, liked to spoil every member of the Finn family, whether they wanted him to or not. Buying a boxing club on a whim wouldn’t be out of character.

  Matthew snorted. “Stop trying to be clever, will you? That’s my job.”

  He watched his brother walk toward the door and shook his head. “Relentless, the lot of them,” he muttered, knowing in his bones this was a damn Finn conspiracy.

  He wouldn’t accept it and it wouldn’t make him change his mind, whatever this was.

  William paused at the door. “I’m doing this for you, you pain in my arse.”

  Matthew patted his shoulder fondly. “And I’m doing this for you, brother.”

  He opened the door and pushed William through it with a strength that took him by surprise.

  He tensed, preparing for the parade of blue-eyed good Samaritans to surround him and tell him what to do with his life.

  The place was silent as the grave.

  Matthew hadn’t come in. In fact, he was standing outside with his back to the door, blocking William’s escape. “What the bloody—”

  “Don’t be mad at him. I asked him to bring you here.”

  William reminded himself to breathe as soon as he heard her voice. He didn’t turn around. He couldn’t. Not yet. “Why?”

  “I thought we could go a few rounds.”

  He looked at her then. Bronte was standing in a shiny new ring—the only bit of equipment in the large, hollowed out shell of a gym—looking like something out of his dirtiest dreams. She was wearing a sports bra and a gray t-shirt that hung off one shoulder, along with a pair of shorts that showed off her deliciously edible thighs. And she was smiling.

  God save him, he loved her smile. “A few rounds? You do know my brother is right outside? I wouldn’t want to be a bad influence.”

  “Not that kind of round.” She laughed lightly. “And you should ask your sister about your brother’s dating preferences sometime. He’s got you beat on the Finn kink scale, William. Trust me.”

  “I really didn’t need to hear that, Bronte.”

  Her smile slowly disappeared. “I have something you do need to hear.”

  “But will I want to?”

  “That’s the question.” She was clinging to the ropes, her knuckles nearly white. He moved closer, needing to soothe her.

  “Tell me.”

  When she met his gaze again, her eyes were shining with emotion. “Give me a minute. I went to all this trouble to set the scene and get you here. If I just blurt it out as soon as you walk through the door it would be a little anti-climactic, right?”

  William lifted his hand to rub the ache in his chest. “I don’t know. There’s something to be said for the straightforward approach.”

  His feet were moving before he’d made the decision to go to her. He pushed the rope aside and joined her, close enough to touch, but not daring to take that final step or reach out to make sure she was real.

  She rocked on her heels, fingers twisting together as if she weren’t sure what to do with them. “I wanted to apologize. I let my insecurities get in the way. I didn’t trust what I was feeling, I didn’t trust my family and I didn’t trust you. Not enough.”

  Ah, love. “You had reasons not to trust, Bronte. I can’t be mad at you for that.”

  Her chin lifted in that stubborn tilt he adored. “Why not? I’m mad at you for changing your mind about wanting me, acting like a jackass a
nd disappearing from my life for over a month. Not a single delivery. Not one text to let me know you were alive when the last I heard, you were about to confront a damn criminal.”

  Did she know how hard that had been for him? How hard it still was? “Bronte, what are we doing here?”

  He saw the bag when she turned toward the center of the ring. It was stuffed with an emerald green blanket he assumed she’d made for him…and papers. Jesus, had she brought him here for the knockout punch? To make him sign on the dotted line and end their marriage once and for all?

  It would never be over as far as he was concerned. He didn’t give vows unless he meant to keep them.

  She held the papers out to him with shaky hands. “We’re here because I’ve recently been offered an exciting new business opportunity. It’s a once in a lifetime type of situation. A little risky, but lately I’ve been taking more of those. Risks. I’m told it’s good for the soul.”

  He frowned in confusion, looking down at the paperwork as if it were written in hieroglyphics. “You bought this place? How?”

  Why?

  She leaned against the ropes, watching him. “You’d be surprised how much money you can save when you live with family. I haven’t made any big purchases since I went in with a few of them on the duplex, and real estate is always a good investment.” She bit her lip, clearly nervous. “There are a few other investors, of course, but the main stake and controlling interest is mine.”

  Damn, interfering… He hated being right. “My cousins tapped their rich husbands, did they? How did they rope you into this scheme? Why, by all that’s holy, would you even want me around after everything I’ve done to you?”

  “Because I love you, you punk ass leprechaun,” she shouted, pure frustration in her voice. She covered her mouth with her hands, as surprised as he was by her sudden outburst.

  The room was spinning. “You what?”

  She stared at the space over his shoulder and started to ramble. “It’s only Younger, your Uncle Shawn and my brother Robert. No rich husbands or fiancés allowed because they all knew you’d act this way. They wanted you to know it was strictly a family affair.”

  “Nora put money down?” he joked feebly, his throat so tight he was strangling.

  “Can I—Bronte, did you just say you loved me?”

  He couldn’t help but reach for her then, dropping the papers to tug her into his arms. “That’s our future you’re tossing in the ring,” she said breathlessly.

  “I’m holding the only future I want. I’m not usually one to question miracles, but are you sure?”

  “That I love you?” She wrapped her arms around his neck and he almost groaned at the sheer pleasure of her touch. “That I want my husband to live with me, make a life with me and run this new boxing club, since I’m not planning on quitting my job at the hospital to watch grown men whack at each other all day long if I don’t have to?”

  He was having a hard time believing this was real. “There you go, being sexist again. Grown women like to take whacks at each other, too.”

  He smiled when she tugged his hair in retaliation. “I might take a whack at you if you don’t give me an answer soon.”

  “What’s the benefits package?” When she glared he pressed his forehead to hers, all the stress and struggle of the last few weeks leaving in a rush, making him weak. “Ah, Bronte, when it comes to you my answer has always been and will always be yes. I love you, and I’ll spend the rest of my life earning you if you let me.”

  “Consider me earned.”

  “Never.” He almost kissed her then, stopping right before his lips touched hers. “But I do want the option to buy out the other investors. If we can even get this place off the ground, that is.”

  “Your cousins owe me ten bucks each,” she said with a satisfied grin that brushed against his. “I knew you were going to say that.”

  “You do know me better than anyone.” William was ready to seal the deal but this time she put her fingers over his mouth, halting his advance.

  “Will you marry me?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Did I dream up that minister in Niagara Falls?”

  “Again. In front of witnesses. While sober. My mother really needs a wedding, William. I kept mine secret, Emerson and Hugo dropped the ball and who knows when the other three will settle down.”

  Suppressing a laugh, William heaved a dramatic sigh instead. “Since you’ve gone and convinced me to fulfill my lifelong dream and I’m hoping to get you naked, I suppose I can let you twist my arm about claiming the only woman I’ve ever loved in front of her family and mine.”

  “As soon as possible?” She removed her fingers and skimmed her lips gently over his. Teasing him. “It could mean another honeymoon.”

  “The things I do for my bride.”

  Epilogue

  Bronte sat at a table in the corner at Finn’s, watching her husband hold court with a small, secret smile. He’d been charming half the bar with his stories for a while now, but she didn’t mind sharing his attention now and then. Not when the last few months had been better than she ever could have dreamed.

  William had been hard at work readying Finn’s Ring—their boxing club—for its grand opening, while reading every business book he could get his hands on and seeking out her brother Thoreau’s advice on an almost daily basis. His focus on making his dream a success was irresistibly sexy.

  Most things about him were.

  The only thing he was more focused on was Bronte. From the second she’d proposed again, he’d never given her a moment to doubt his devotion.

  Especially once she’d told him the last secret she’d been keeping from him.

  Informing William that he’d managed to beat the odds—and a birth control pill that was supposed to be ninety-nine percent effective—made him cockier than usual, which was saying a lot. But oddly, she couldn’t find it in her to care.

  She was going to have a baby.

  They’d moved into the loft apartment above the gym and he’d immediately started nesting and working on baby names her father would approve of. That meant they already needed another bookshelf for their now overflowing library.

  No wonder Foster Wayne loved his new son-in-law. When he’d first come to the house to apologize and ask permission to marry her again, her two favorite men had ended up discussing books for hours.

  He’d managed to win over every Wayne in turn with his special brand of charm. He’d volunteered to be a guinea pig for Austen’s facial creams, a taster for Thoreau’s new beer recipes and an available babysitter for Emerson’s sons since he said he needed the practice. He’d also included Robert in his plans for the boxing club so often that her brother decided to officially quit his sales job and join the team.

  Cassandra Wayne had been a little more standoffish, but Bronte knew that was her fault for lying and putting herself in danger. William never wavered in his campaign, however, and ever since he’d placed the wedding and the upcoming baby shower in her capable hands, things between them had warmed considerably.

  Most of the Finns seemed surprised at his turn around, but Bronte had learned enough about him to know that he hadn’t really changed at all. In his heart, William was a family man and he always had been. She couldn’t have dreamed up a better husband, a better father for her child.

  She couldn’t imagine ever wanting more.

  The scrape of the stool beside her made her jump. “Tell me you’re not crocheting. In a bar. How are we even related?”

  Bronte smirked, wiggling her fingers to show off the new wedding ring she was still getting used to. “By marriage. We’re related by marriage. What are you doing here? I thought this was your BFF night with Jen and Jeremy. Aren’t the kids with their grandmother?”

  Tasha sighed dramatically, leaning her elbows on the table. “Owen’s feeling possessive again, so Jeremy is probably tied up at the moment. And I mean that literally.”

  “And Jen?”

  “Fin
negan has a stomach bug.” She sighed again. “We’re getting so old. Everyone’s married and popping out new Little Finn’s left and right. Being adults. We used to go to kink clubs and close down bars, you know. Any day now I’ll have to live vicariously through young Jake while I sit in my rocking chair and watch you crochet.”

  “Don’t let Seamus hear you talk like that. Jake still has a few years before he’ll be getting into trouble.” Bronte took a sip of her water. “I should mention that whine would go down smoother if you didn’t look so blissfully happy all the time.”

  Tasha chuckled. “You look blissful, too. In fact, if it weren’t for James disappearing for parts unknown, I’d say the family has never been so problem free.”

  Bronte glanced over at her brother-in-law and her smile dimmed. Younger hadn’t been happy after William delivered his message.

  All he’d told her was that James was going after a friend in need. From the clues he’d given, Bronte had a feeling the relationship went much deeper than friendship, but she couldn’t be sure.

  William was adamant about everyone respecting the request James made to let him do what he needed to do without interference, but she knew the Finns better now. She also knew Ken Tanaka. They weren’t easily distracted when one of their own was in trouble.

  You’re a Finn now, too.

  She must be, or maybe all their Kumbaya ways were getting to her. She wanted to help a few of them out herself.

  “Since we’re so problem free, maybe now would be a good time to tell me more about Ken and Brady. I know you introduced them.” She loved the intrigued gleam that instantly twinkled to life in her friend’s eyes. “What’s stopping those handsome, interfering matchmakers from tying the knot themselves? And what can we do to fix it and give them a taste of their own medicine at the same time?”

  “Oh princess,” Tasha crooned, leaning closer. “I knew I’d love being your sister-cousin.”

 

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