by Jo McNally
“Reminds me of when your father was alive. He wasn’t much for neatness, either. This isn’t you, girl. What’s going on?”
All the time she was speaking, her grandmother was walking around the apartment, straightening things on tables, taking in the dirty dishes in the sink and the empty bottles of Guinness on the counter. Maybe Bridget had let things go too far. Nana stopped at the bedroom door, spying the green dress. She turned with a bright smile.
“Oh, that’s this weekend, isn’t it? I wish I could see Finn’s eyes when he spies you in that little number. What shoes are you going to wear...” She looked over her shoulder as if suddenly realizing the conversation was one-sided. “Bridget?”
Should she tell her grandmother everything? As much as she wanted to get Nana’s wise advice, confessing to a two-month lie seemed cruel. Or maybe she was just a coward. She was too worn out to know the difference anymore.
“Finn and I had a little disagreement. No big deal.”
Funny how lies continued to come so easily.
Nana looked around the apartment. “This looks like it may not have been so little. You’ve been off your game all week, honey. What happened?”
God, she was tired of coming up with half truths to tell everyone. It had been easier when she thought they were falling in love for real. But now the fake engagement was mocking her, making her second-guess every word she said to the people she cared about.
“It turns out we both have a jealous side, Nana.”
And massive insecurities and trust issues and fears.
Nana sat on the sofa and patted the cushion for Bridget to join her. There was no point in resisting. Her grandmother took her hand in hers, and it was all Bridget could do to keep from crying at the tender gesture. She’d already cried too much, but the tears were welling up again. She blinked them away as Nana spoke.
“Bridget, you’ve never had a jealous bone in your body. You just like to be in charge, and you panic when you’re not.” The words were said gently, but hit Bridget hard.
“That’s not true...”
“Girl, you’ve wanted to be in charge since you arrived in Rendezvous Falls twenty-some years ago. Since you were a little girl, you’ve tried to control our disorganized family, you’ve tried to control the pub—even before your father passed.” Nana slowly shook her head. “You like things done a certain way. Your way. That’s not always bad, mind you, because you’re a bright, competent woman. But it can come across as something different. But jealousy? I don’t believe it.”
Was she right? Was Bridget upset because Finn had taken her control away? Hell, he’d taken more than that. He’d taken the ground right out from under her feet the other day. And yes, he’d left her feeling completely unmoored and with no sense of control at all. No plan. No solution. Just an emptiness and an ache in her heart that wouldn’t go away. She had a feeling it might just be there forever.
“His ex-wife came to town.” That’s what had started all this. The woman who broke him in the first place came back to see what more damage she could inflict.
“I know.” Nana raised her stenciled brow at Bridget’s look of surprise. Her hair hadn’t started coming back yet. “Oh, honey, don’t let my chemo brain fool you. I may forget what you said five minutes ago, but I know what’s going on in this family and in this town.” She lifted a shoulder. “And she stayed at the Taggart Inn.”
That explained it. Iris Taggart and the book club brigade had been busy again. Bridget rolled her eyes, and Nana chuckled.
“I know you’re not jealous of his ex. She’s the one who broke his heart, and Finn’s a smart man. He’s not going back to her. Besides, she’s married. And pregnant.”
Bridget couldn’t breathe for a moment.
“Pregnant?” He’d never said a word. “Is it...?”
Nana sat straight as a rod, pulling her hand from Bridget’s. “His? You’re not seriously asking that, are you?” She reached out and gave her a light smack on the back of the head. “I said you were a smart woman, but I may have overestimated you. Of course it’s not his. I’m surprised he didn’t tell you that himself, though.”
So Finn’s friend had not only stolen Finn’s wife, he’d stolen the future Finn had wanted. No wonder he was so mad at the world.
“To be honest, I didn’t give him much opportunity.” The argument had broken out fast and hot. “Like I said...jealous.”
“Not jealous. Scared. You can’t control his past, and that’s what freaking you out.”
It was so much more than that, but Bridget couldn’t get into it all without giving up the engagement lie, and she needed to talk to Finn first. Figure out how they were going to handle it. What their stories were going to be. She might be hurt and angry, but she still didn’t want him losing his job or his chance at permanent residency here.
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m being silly. It’s all been so...”
“Fast?”
She gave a short laugh. From the moment she’d met Finn, things in her life had started happening at breakneck speed.
“Yes. Fast.” She frowned. “And out of control. Do you really think that’s the problem? That I want to control Finn?”
“Whoa. Slow down, honey.” Nana held up a hand and chuckled. “I’m not putting any blame on you. First—because I don’t know what happened. Second—because in a relationship, everything takes two. Even the problems. You said you both had jealousy issues. What’s Finn’s?”
“He saw me with Zayne Rutledge and...he didn’t like it. He grilled me on why we’d hugged and...”
“You hugged Zayne Rutledge? Why?”
Bridget threw her hands in the air. “You sound just like Finn! Zayne’s business is doing well, and that guy needs good news a lot more than most people. We’ve been friends since high school, and I was happy, so I hugged him.”
Nana considered that for a moment. “That’s a logical explanation, but I’m guessing Finn didn’t think so?”
Now it was Bridget’s turn to hesitate. Had she actually said all of that to Finn before things went off the rails?
“I’m taking your silence as a no.” Nana patted her hand. “Why not?”
“I didn’t like being questioned about it. I mean, I’ve been on my own all my life, and...”
“Hang on. What do you mean you’ve been on your own? Isn’t your last name McKinnon? Don’t you have half a dozen cousins in this town? Not to mention a grandmother?”
“Well...yeah...but that’s not the kind of thing I was talking about.”
“And didn’t you date that Clark fellow in California for years?”
“I may as well have been on my own in that relationship, Nana. I was just a glorified housekeeper-slash-business-manager for him.”
“But you thought you were a lot more than that, didn’t you?”
She swallowed hard.
“Yes.” Her voice fell. “I thought I was a lot more, but I wasn’t.”
“So now you’re Miss Independent.”
“Yes.”
“And yet you’re engaged.” Nana pointed to the antique diamond ring sparkling on Bridget’s hand. “And you never thought about this before that? You and Finn never figured out how to compromise on things? What did you think, that putting on that ring would automatically make everything perfect?”
Bridget winced, remembering Piper Montgomery’s words from a few weeks ago. Perfect is overrated.
“We need to work on our communication, I guess. The argument was all over the place. First he was mad, then I was mad, then we were both mad, and after a while I wasn’t even sure what we were mad about!”
Her grandmother laughed. “Welcome to love, girlie. I’ve got a news flash for you—relationships are hard work. The more it’s worth keeping, the more work it will take. And once you and Finn are married, you’re not going to be able
to retreat to separate apartments and sulk for days.” Nana looked around their cluttered surroundings. “You can’t walk away in a huff just because your feelings got hurt. You’ve got to stand and fight through it.”
“But I’m not the one who walked away.” Or was she? She wasn’t sure now that she thought about it. “I’m so confused.”
“Of course you are. It’s your first big fight.” Nana patted her hand. “And it won’t be your last, and half the time you won’t even remember who or what started it. You’re a McKinnon. You’re going to blow off steam once in a while, and it sounds like Finn’s cut from the same cloth. So now you have to decide. Go after him.” Nana paused. “Or don’t. With every big argument you have—and it sounds like you might have a few—you’ll need to make that choice. It’s easy to pull the hermit routine and ignore the hard stuff.” She took Bridget’s hand again. “But you’ve never taken the easy way out once in your life, honey. If Finn was wrong, tell him so. If you were wrong, apologize. Then talk it out. That’s what grown-ups do. They deal with things and move forward.” She glanced toward the bedroom door and the green dress hanging there. “I’m thinking that dress might at least help to get him listening.”
Nana had a point. Finn couldn’t ignore her if she showed up at the party tonight. And afterward they could talk things out. She started to relax. It was a solid plan. And a plan meant she had something to manage. Which meant Nana was right about her.
She was a control freak.
* * *
“WHERE’S THAT FIANCÉE of yours, O’Hearn?” Logan Taggart appeared at the table next to Finn. He’d been doing his best to fade into the woodwork in the corner of the college library. It had been transformed for the cocktail party, with café tables draped in white linen and lace. The tables were scattered around the stacks. Floral center pieces with tall, narrow candles graced the tables and pretty much every flat surface in the room. The librarians had probably had a fit about it, but Greer was the boss, after all, so he tended to get what he wanted. Must be nice, Finn thought uncharitably. He took another sip of whiskey. It was his second glass. Third, if he counted the shot he’d had at home.
“Bridget doesn’t feel well. What brings you here?”
Inventing an illness was the easiest and least offensive excuse he could come up with when he’d arrived. It grated on him to keep fabricating things, but this didn’t seem the time or place to say they were through. It was even more grating that he didn’t know if they were through. They’d argued. A rambling argument where they both seemed to be dancing around whatever was upsetting them. Looking back, he wasn’t even sure who was more angry, him or Bridget. But maybe the argument was for the best. They’d always planned to fake break up anyway. Hopefully Greer wouldn’t hold it against him if it happened before he got his tenure—and visa—secured. He tried to catch up with Logan’s answer.
“...Iris came down with a cold, so she asked Piper and me to represent the Taggart Inn at this shindig. Not my style, but the inn is packed with out-of-towners for graduation and this alumni gathering, so it’s good business. The college is a big part of our revenue.”
Finn nodded absently, his mind back to tallying all the messes he’d made since arriving in Rendezvous Falls. Jumping at the first rental he found because of Greer’s pressure, then letting the same man pressure him into stumbling into a fake engagement. At the time, he thought it was foolish, but harmless. The ache in his chest was telling him something very different now. Logan was still talking.
“...so I told her we’d have to build a bigger fence to hold that damn dog we got at Christmas, because she just won’t stop growing. And Piper said, ‘Fine, go build it,’ so now I have to build a stockade fence on top of building the patio she wants out back.” Logan emptied his beer, looking around at the growing crowd of suits and silk dresses. “Which is what I should be working on instead of being here. Luke said his brother might be able to help with rebuilding the old gazebo out there. Apparently, my fiancée has pronounced this the summer of a perfect backyard.” He winked at Finn. “But you know all about bossy fiancées, right? Bridget must be a handful.”
Finn frowned. “Bridget’s a business owner, and she knows what she wants and how to get it. That doesn’t make her a handful. It makes her an independent woman.”
Logan straightened. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. Bridget’s on the business owners association board now, and Piper she’s one of the best assets they have. I was making a bad joke—Bridget has a reputation for being a bit of a control freak, and my Piper can be the same way. Everything’s a negotiation, but we’ve found our rhythm with those conversations.”
“How?” Finn blurted out. “How did you figure that out?”
The other man gave him a slow smile. “Practice. Lots and lots of practice. We’ve been together since before Christmas, so we’ve had time to figure out how to talk things out, and how to trust that we have each other’s—or the kids’—best interests in mind.” He hesitated, tipping his head to the side in thought. “Trust is probably the biggest piece. Getting all butt-hurt about something makes us defensive and dug-in, and that’s when things get twisted around. Once we realize we both want the same thing and just have different ideas how to get there, then the negotiating part is a lot less intense.” His smile deepened. “And speaking of the master negotiator, here she is.”
Piper Montgomery was petite, with golden-blond hair and a bright, wholesome smile. But when she settled into Logan’s embrace, that smile showed a hint of devilishness, and Finn noticed her hand pinched Logan’s ass, making her man chuckle as he kissed the top of her head. They were relaxed and comfortable together. Partners. Something he and Bridget had found in moments, but couldn’t seem to maintain.
Trust is probably the biggest piece...
It was a simple enough concept. A decent guy would trust the woman he loved. But Finn wasn’t there yet. Oh, he was in love, alright. But even that wasn’t enough to let go of the doubting voice that wouldn’t stop telling him to be careful, be cautious. To remember that love had tricked him once before. It wasn’t fair to Bridget, but he didn’t know if he’d ever get past it. A waiter—actually a student pressed into service at the event—walked by with a tray of drinks. Finn snagged one and drained it, earning raised eyebrows from both of his tablemates.
Logan turned to Piper. “Hmm. I think someone’s pulling up the castle gates, babe, and it’s not Bridget.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Finn didn’t like being the butt of some private joke, no matter how much he liked Logan and Piper.
Piper’s mouth had formed a soft O, but his tone made her stand taller. She might look like cookies and milk, but he had a feeling she was more like polished steel.
“It means he thinks you’re protecting your heart by building a fortress around it and closing the gate, like I did once. I pushed Logan away rather than deal with my own issues.” She grew somber. “It’s a good thing he was willing to fight for us, or I could have ruined everything.”
Logan watched Finn set the empty glass on the table and shook his head. “I don’t know what’s going on with you and Bridget right now. Whatever it is, the bottom of a glass isn’t going to help.” He paused. “I thought you said she was sick tonight?”
“I did. She is.”
“Well, she seems to have recovered. She’s charming the pants off of Howard Greer as we speak.”
Finn’s head snapped up. There she was, red hair falling in loose waves around her shoulders over a dark green dress that sparkled just a little as she laughed at something Greer had said.
She was the woman he loved. And the woman he might never be able to trust with his heart, through no damn fault of hers. He’d been an absolute shit to her this week. He’d told her they needed to stop being together. And she’d still shown up. For him.
He didn’t deserve her.
And Bridg
et deserved far better than him.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
HOWARD GREER HAD trapped Bridget at the entrance to the library-turned-cocktail-lounge. Apparently Finn had used a headache as her excuse for not attending, and Greer was now giving her a long list of migraine cures. If she told him she’d never had a migraine in her life, he’d know Finn lied. So she smiled and nodded.
“My sister uses over-the-counter stuff, but my niece has to use prescription meds, and even then she often misses a few days of work every month, poor thing...”
“You know, I thought it was a migraine coming on. That’s why I told Finn I didn’t think I could make it.” She spotted him in the far corner, talking to Logan Taggart. She had no idea what he’d think of her arrival. “But it turns out it was just allergies. You know—change of seasons and all that. The sinus medicine and a hot pack worked so quickly that I decided to surprise him.”
Greer nodded with a grin. “I keep telling that man how lucky he is to have a gal like you, Bridget. A successful businesswoman. A lovely lady, especially in Irish green...” He waggled his eyebrows as his gaze ran down her dress. “And you’re loyal to the man. Giving yourself in marriage and all. He’ll go far with a woman like you at his side. Maybe he’ll even have my job someday.”
The college president was older than her grandmother, and clearly nowhere near as progressive.
“Just to be clear, Dr. Greer, I’m not giving myself into anything or to anyone. I’m not a prize at the county fair.”
His eyes went wide. “Of course not.” He cleared his throat loudly. “I’m sorry. Sometimes my language time-travels back to the ’50s when I have a drink or two. What I was trying to say is that it’s tough to find yourself in a relationship when you’ve been on your own for a long while.” His voice trailed off and he seemed lost in thought for a moment. “It takes some...compromising. But you two seem to have worked that out.”