by Jo McNally
“Don’t worry about the money, Mike. I’ve already told Bridget I’d be interested in buying out the family shares in the Shamrock if that helps.” He squeezed her fingers to keep her from protesting his blatant lie. Mike’s eyes went wide.
“It would help me, that’s for sure. What are you, Irish royalty or something?”
“There’s no such thing as Irish royalty.” Finn couldn’t help himself from clarifying Irish history. “Not anymore, at least. But I’ve done okay with the teaching gig.”
Bridget’s head was shaking back and forth, sending that red ponytail swinging.
“I am not taking your money.”
Mike laughed. “He’s going to be your husband, Bridg.”
“He’s not...”
Finn pulled her in for a quick kiss to silence her, doing his best to ignore the quick stab of hurt that she was that quick to deny him. He held on to her and whispered in her ear.
“Helping is the least I can do. We’ll find something that works, okay?”
She didn’t relax in his arms, but she nodded against him.
Mike threw up his hands and walked away. “You two can figure your shit out without me. I’ll try to beat the guy down on the price of doing this patio thing.”
Finn didn’t let her go until some of the tension left her. She sniffed and looked up at him.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you by blurting that out.”
“I don’t care about that.” He brushed a loose strand of hair from her face. “I only care about you.”
And it was more true than he’d realized. Not only was she the best lover he’d ever had, she was funny and strong and loyal and...he was falling in love with her. For real.
Her expression was troubled. “Finn, I know this is all fake...”
“Hey, what you and I have between us is as real as it gets.”
“Then do me a favor. Don’t try to pay me off.”
“What? That’s not...”
“First you offered to let me keep a ring if you’d bought one. Now you want to give me money for the pub? It makes me feel...”
He cupped her face in his hands, feeling like an idiot.
“I never meant to make you feel like I was...compensating you. You put yourself on the line for me, and I’m just trying to show you that I appreciate it.”
“Before you leave, you mean?”
“I’m not leaving.”
“You’re leaving me. The semester’s almost over. You’ll get your tenure and your security and we’ll be...”
“Isn’t that what we agreed?”
She hesitated, then nodded without looking him in the eye. “We have an agreement. But what does that have to do with what we have...between us?”
He pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. What did she want to hear?
“We promised one day at a time, love. We don’t have to make a decision today.”
“But someday we will.”
He didn’t answer her. Because he truly had no idea what was going to happen.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
KAREEMA TOSSED HER large leather bag on the floor near the bar and slid onto a stool with a dramatic sigh.
“Bad day?” Bridget grabbed a tall glass and reached for a cola from the bar cooler.
“Oh, no, girl. I need more than fizzy sugar today.”
Bridget stopped and looked at her, brows rising.
“It’s not even four o’clock. On a Tuesday.”
“I don’t care if it’s ten o’clock in the morning. Give me a glass of wine. Stat.”
“O-kay.” She did as ordered, filling two glasses with the pinot noir Luke Rutledge had delivered from Falls Legend Winery that morning. “What happened?”
Kareema rolled her eyes and emptied half her wine in one swallow. “It’s one thing to deal with the teen attitudes and the practical jokes and their complete inability to refile books properly. But sex? In my library? No, ma’am.” She waved her finger in the air. “No. Ma’am.”
Bridget’s laughter bubbled up. “You caught students trying to have sex in the library? During school? Wow, I...”
“Oh no, baby. Not students.” Kareema dropped her head back, staring at the ceiling and groaning loudly. “I will never unsee what I’ve seen! How can I unsee it?”
“Wait. If it wasn’t students...”
No. It couldn’t be.
“That’s right. Not students. Teachers. Teachers, Bridget!”
Bridget leaned forward. “Who?”
Kareema shook her head. “As much as I’d love to spill, I can’t. I promised them I wouldn’t. But my eyes, girl. My eyes.”
“Were they, like...doing it?” She couldn’t imagine how they could hide that. “Or was it just...?”
Kareema’s glass hit the bar firmly. “There is no ‘just’ about walking around a corner with an armful of books and seeing a chipper little blonde English teacher on her knees giving a BJ to a Spanish teacher in the back of the stacks. I mean, for real. What am I supposed to do with that?”
Bridget coughed, trying to hold back her laughter. “What did you do?”
Kareema’s shoulders started to shake. “Well, the first thing I did was wonder why I can’t get any action in my own damn library. Then I imagined some kid walking over, although they were smart enough to pick the aisle with nothing but math and science textbooks—not the sort of books students seek out on their own.” She started to laugh. “I cleared my throat and tossed my armful of books on a shelf very loudly. He zipped up his pants so fast I’m surprised he didn’t zip his little member clean off. And she jumped to her feet and started to cry. She cried, Bridget.”
“Oh, my God. Did you report them?”
Her friend leveled a look at her.
“Did I mention she cried? And I thought he was gonna throw up. His face turned green, for real.” She finished her wine. “I shushed them both, and read them the riot act in the lowest decibel possible. Turns out they’re married...”
“Uh-oh...”
“...to each other.”
“No way!” Bridget laughed. “They’re married and they tried to pull that where they both work?”
“Oh, it gets better. Turns out today is his birthday, and this is something he’d fantasized about, so wifey decided to make his dreams come true. In my library. I told them to get the hell out and never come back unless they came alone. Jesus, give me strength.” She shook her head again. “Okay, now I’ll take that cola.”
Bridget obliged, still giggling. “You definitely win the prize for Most Interesting Workday, Kareema.”
“Are you saying no one’s ever been caught in this bar trying to get it on?”
Her face warmed as she thought of the night before St. Patrick’s Day. The night Finn made love to her against the wall of the back hallway.
“Oh, that’s a story right there in those eyes of yours. Who was it? Where?” Kareema’s mouth fell open, as round as her eyes were becoming. “Oh hot damn. It was you, wasn’t it? With that hot Irish fiancé of yours? In here? What the hell! Am I the only woman in town not getting any in public places these days?” She pouted. “I need to find me an adventurous lover.” Then she leaned forward, dropping her voice dramatically. “How was it?”
At least this was one thing she didn’t have to lie about.
“Um...it was...awesome.”
Kareema sat back on the bar stool.
“Damn, you and this guy are for real, aren’t you?”
She wasn’t sure what to say to that. Her feelings for Finn were getting more real every day, but she still wasn’t sure what would happen next. What he was feeling. She looked at her childhood friend and blurted out the truth once more.
“I think I love him.”
“Think? You’re getting married, so I hope y
ou love him.”
“I mean really love him, Kar. Like...life-changing, can’t-live-without-him love. It’s...it’s scary to feel so much. To want him in my life forever. I never thought that kind of love would happen for me, you know?”
Her friend reached out and took her hand. “I’m so happy for you. I’m also jealous, but most of all I’m really happy for you.” She squeezed her fingers. “You deserve this, Bridg. You’re always so busy taking care of everyone else that you don’t think about what you need or want. But you deserve this. I see real joy in your eyes, and it’s joy that has nothing to do with your family or this stupid bar. It’s in your heart, and you need to hang on to that, honey.”
Their conversation was interrupted when some early bird diners came in—including some of Nana’s book club cronies. The old folks had been spending a lot of time here lately. She didn’t object to having more business, but she couldn’t help feeling like they were here to watch her. Helen Russo and Rick Thomas came in first, and were followed a few minutes later by Lena and Cecile. Sure enough, they chose a booth facing the side of the bar where she and Kareema were talking. Kelly took them menus, but they all made a point to wave to Bridget.
Kareema stood and grabbed her coat. “I gotta run. Thanks for listening to my Very Bad Day story. And remember what I just told you.” She pointed at Bridget’s chest. “Hang on to that deep love you’re feeling for Hotty McIrish. That stuff’s precious. Not everyone’s lucky enough to find it.”
Bridget couldn’t help wondering if it would still be considered lucky if that kind of love ended up being one-sided.
* * *
FINN HEARD THE door open behind him, but figured it was one of his students. They’d had quite the debate about the Book of Kells and how priceless relics like that had been buried all over Ireland to protect them from the British “reformers.” Someone probably wanted to make a point about Elizabeth I or something.
“Hello, Finn.”
He froze. No, that wasn’t accurate. His internal organs turned to ice. Arctic dust able to be blown away in the slightest breeze. He closed his eyes, willing this to be a bad dream. Some sort of daytime nightmare that would go away if he wished hard enough. But his ex-wife spoke again, calmly and clearly and very real.
“You won’t even look at me?”
He turned on his heel, his fingers curling into fists before he met Dori’s eyes. Seeing her again was like a razor cut—a quick, sharp slice across his heart with a delayed burn of pain. She looked the same...maybe a bit softer somehow. Her short blond hair was layered and styled to perfection as always, but the sharp edges of her face and figure had softened. She’d always been so tightly put together, with bright red lips, artfully shadowed cheekbones and clothes that clung to her slender body.
But her lips were blush pink now. Her clothing was more subdued as well. Casual wool slacks and a lightweight sweater under a jacket. Classy, but relaxed. Finn tried to remember if he’d ever thought of Dori as relaxed before. Was this what happy looked like on her? He’d admired her edginess as a strength, but had it been bitterness all along? Had he ever made her happy? She was still waiting for him to say something. His internal argument spilled out in his angry tone.
“Why are you here, Dori?”
She flinched, then raised her chin. “Wow. Okay. I’m trying to sell some medical equipment to the hospital in Geneva, and since I was so close, I thought I’d stop by and...” Her head dropped, breaking eye contact. “Check in on you, I guess. I wanted to see if you’re okay.”
His eyes narrowed. What was she up to? He nodded toward the door. “Come in and close the door. I have half an hour before my next class.” She did as he asked, then sat in one of the chairs opposite his desk. She glanced at the second chair as if suggesting he sit there, but he walked behind the desk and took his seat there. Distance felt like a real good idea right now. “And yes, I’m okay. Considering. Any other questions?” He knew this was more than just checking in.
Dori smoothed her jacket before finally looking up again.
“Finn, I’m sorry for what happened. I know I’ve said that already, but I want you to know I...I mean it. I know...Vince and I know...that what we did hurt you.” She swallowed hard. “We’ve been concerned. We care about you...”
Finn snorted. “Stop, okay? Just stop. You’re obviously here to make yourself feel better, not me. If you cared about me, you wouldn’t have screwed my best friend.” He shuffled some papers on his desk, trying to look as unruffled as possible. The last thing he wanted was Dori and Vince laughing over how they’d destroyed him. Maybe they never did that, but whenever he thought of them together, that’s what he pictured. After all, the joke had always been on him. “So why don’t you head off home to North Carolina and live the life you chose. Or are you cheating on him, too?”
Her body went rigid, her back not even touching the chair.
“I’m not cheating on Vince. We love each...” She bit her lip, so he finished the sentence for her.
“You love each other? Are you sure? After all, you took a vow to love me, remember?” His shoulders sagged. “Seriously, Dori, you need to go. This is pointless. For the love of God, leave me in peace.”
Her blue eyes went soft and shiny. It looked like actual regret, but he never knew with her.
“I hate that we’ve come to this, Finn.” She leaned forward, placing her hands on his desk. He withdrew automatically, even though she couldn’t reach him. Her lips pressed together in a thin straight line. “Vince and I never intended for this to happen...”
He welcomed the icy sensation that returned to his chest. Anger was a lot easier to deal with than wondering how sincere she might be.
“You never intended, eh?” He leaned forward and she sat back. They were playing a tense game of seesaw right now. “Then what happened, Dor? Did you accidentally end up naked in his bed while married to me? Did he accidentally stick it where it didn’t belong? Did he forget he’d been my friend and mentor for years? Did either one of you think of me at all?” He waved his hand in disgust. “You know what? I don’t care. Get out.”
There was a beat of silence as they both settled back.
“I’m pregnant.”
He barked out a laugh to cover the stab of pain he felt. They’d talked of starting a family, but Dori always said the timing wasn’t right. Apparently he was what wasn’t right.
“That’s great, Dor. Just fuckin’ great.”
“I wanted to tell you myself, Finn. I didn’t want you to hear it through some gossip grapevine. I thought you deserved that much.”
“I deserved a lot of things. Too bad neither you or your new husband thought so.”
“And again...wow.” Dori stood, staring down at him, her brows gathered together in anger. “What we did to you was shitty, Finn. I get that. I’m sorry I fell out of love with you. I’m sorry I didn’t say so when it happened, which was long before Vince and I started anything. Just because I apologized doesn’t mean I came here expecting your forgiveness.” She pulled her purse over her shoulder. “But you need to do something with all this anger. Talk to someone, Finn, before it consumes you. Our divorce was almost two years ago. Sooner or later, you need to move on.”
He leaned back in his chair, working hard to look bored. Trying to ignore the voice in his head whispering that she might be right.
“Oh, I’ve moved on, don’t you worry. In fact, I’m engaged to a lovely lass here in Rendezvous Falls.” He gestured toward the door. “So go start your new family with a clean conscience, Dori.”
Her jaw dropped. “You’re...engaged?”
“Yes, and don’t ask about her, because it’s not your concern. You and I are exes, Dori, with nothing tying us together.” He finally stood, but stayed behind the desk. “You don’t ever need to show up here again.” She started to speak, but he raised a hand to stop her. “If you care about me ha
lf as much as you claim to, then stay out of my life, Dori.”
She stared at him for a moment, then nodded and turned to go. She was just opening the door when he spoke again. They’d been married for eight years. He hated what she and Vince had done to his life—and his heart—but he couldn’t make himself hate her. His voice softened.
“Congratulations on the pregnancy, Dor. Have a good life. Really. But don’t send me any baby announcements or Christmas cards, okay?”
Dori gave him a quick solemn look over her shoulder, nodding before she walked out of his life one last time.
Finn sat down so hard the chair rolled back a foot or more. Jesus. Just when he thought he’d stuffed all his feelings deep inside, there they were, simmering on the surface like a deadly oil slick. He really knew how to pick ’em, didn’t he? A beloved wife who lied and cheated. A trusted friend who stabbed him in the back. They’d blown his life to smithereens, and now they were building their own little idyll, baby and all.
He didn’t wish them ill—he wasn’t that kind of guy. But damn, it hurt.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“WAIT A MINUTE...” Bridget held up her hand with a laugh. “Zayne Rutledge, did you just say you have a website? You? The ultimate hermit is online?”
The dark-haired man across from her couldn’t hide his slow smile. Luke’s brother was one of the most painfully shy people she’d ever met, but lately he’d been showing up at the Shamrock every month or so. It was always at quiet times, when the place had pretty much cleared out. That was astonishing regularity for a man who once vowed to burn the place to the ground in a drunken rage years ago. He’d only been nineteen or so at the time, and was moving down the path his father had laid out with his example—a drunk looking for good times, and if he couldn’t find good times, a fistfight would do. He’d been an absolute terror in high school, but somehow he and Bridget had formed a friendship that had survived his determination to destroy his life.