“Oh shit,” Jack said, shaking out his hand. “It’s you. I’m sorry. I saw someone out of the corner of my eye, running at me with a stick, and…”
But Finn was already climbing to his feet. “I heard you on the phone. Adalia, Georgie, are they okay?”
Jack’s expression turned bleak. “They’re fine,” he said. “Give me a second, and I’ll explain.”
He picked up the phone and wandered off, talking in a hushed voice. Finn was tempted to follow him, to see if he and Jack had similar definitions of the word fine, but Jack was already hanging up and pacing back over.
“What happened?” Finn asked, carefully palpating his injured eye.
“Let’s go inside and get you a bag of peas or something.”
“What happened?” he insisted.
Jack swore under his breath. “I wasn’t talking about either of them,” he insisted.
It took a moment for the meaning to penetrate the fog of pain in Finn’s head.
Oh.
“There’s another secret sibling?”
“She’s not their sister,” Jack said harshly. “She’s mine.” He ran a hand through his hair. “But yeah, I need to tell them about her. I know that. I…didn’t want to at first.”
He tried to remember what he’d heard Jack say in that conversation he’d overheard a few weeks ago. All he could remember was Jack saying he didn’t trust her. Presumably he’d been talking to his sister, so who didn’t he trust? Adalia? A surge of protectiveness rose in him.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked.
“She’s only seventeen. She lives at home with our mother.”
The way he said it made it obvious the mother was the one he didn’t trust—and it was also apparent why Jack kept going back to Chicago.
“You take care of her,” he stated.
“Not enough,” Jack said. “But I plan to do better. Come on. Let me get you those peas.”
“No, that’s okay,” he said. “I need to find Adalia. Do you know where she is?”
Panic rippled across Jack’s face. “You can’t tell her. I need to be the one who does.”
“I won’t,” Finn said, “and not just because I don’t want you to punch me again.” He managed a slight smile, which hurt like hell. “Believe me, we have plenty of other things to talk about. But you should tell her soon. Georgie too.”
Jack nodded slowly. “I’m glad you’re going to see her. She’s at that Italian tapas place downtown with Maisie and Blue.”
There were at least three restaurants that could loosely meet that description.
“Do you remember which one?” he asked.
Jack shrugged. “Nope. But let me get you those peas.”
Since it really did hurt, and the gesture would clearly make Jack feel better, Finn just nodded. “Meet you around front?” he suggested. “I left something on the porch I need to pick up.”
“Sure,” Jack said. Then his gaze lowered to the rain stick. He picked it up, his brow furrowed, and said, “Here’s your…thing.”
“It’s not mine,” Finn said. “It was on your porch.”
“Dottie must have left it here,” he said, shaking his head a little, although his expression was fond. He lowered the stick and propped it against the bench. “She leaves things here all the time. One time I came home, and there was a purple ukulele sitting on the porch. She said she saw it and thought of me.”
“And have you played it?”
Jack smiled. “Wouldn’t you know it…I have. She was right.”
They parted ways, and Finn circled around to the front, reclaiming the Alan file. Tyrion was still howling agitatedly, and a superstitious part of Finn worried that maybe Adalia really was in trouble. He was anxious to find her, but he’d said he would wait for the peas, and he didn’t want to give Jack any reason to doubt or dislike him. He’d leave as soon as he had the peas, though, and he’d go to every single Italian restaurant in town if he had to.
Jack finally opened the door, a bag of peas in hand, but Tyrion charged him from behind, pushing him so hard he staggered through the opening.
The dog slipped past Finn and raced down the hill and then the street, moving at a speed that might have won him the Iditarod if he’d been born in a different state.
“Shit,” Finn shouted. “Follow that dog!”
He and Jack raced down the street on foot—Jack with a bag of peas in his hand, Finn with his arms wrapped around the file.
Tyrion was so far ahead, Finn worried they’d lose him, especially in the poorly lit areas, but he continued to see a flash of white ahead, the tip of Tyrion’s fluffy tail.
Then it dawned on him—Tyrion was heading in the direction of his house.
Jack was ahead of him, because he was apparently some kind of super athlete with a hell of a right hook. But sure enough, he slowed and then stopped as he reached Finn’s house. The look on his face said he’d found Tyrion, so Finn let himself walk the rest of the way.
That was when he heard her—“I guess maybe you were right about that fence.”
And he found it in him to run the rest of the way after all. Adalia was sitting on the steps, wearing a red sundress that made her hair look like a gilded crown. Tyrion sat at her feet, as regal and untroubled as if he hadn’t just hurtled across half the neighborhood.
“Finn,” she said, getting to her feet. Then she gasped. “Your eye.”
Which was when he realized he was covered in sweat and one of his eyes was likely black and definitely swollen. This wasn’t exactly how he’d envisioned his grand gesture.
“Your brother hit me,” he blurted out, his mind firing at warp speed. Why was she here? And Tyrion…it was like he’d led Finn to her. It was something that shouldn’t be possible, but he knew Dottie would say it was. That it was the same kind of impossible that had led to them getting the exact same tarot draw. And to Finn and River falling in love with sisters.
“What?!” Adalia barked, turning on Jack.
“It was an accident,” Finn added, and Jack nodded and handed him the bag of peas.
“I’m going to bring the escape artist here home. Give you two some time to talk.”
“No, you can leave him here,” Finn said, then glanced at Adalia. “If you’re okay with that.”
Something glimmered in her eyes—could he dare to hope it was affection for him and not just the dog?—and she nodded.
“See you later,” Jack said, nodding to them, and he took off, his pace unhurried now.
They both watched him for a moment. Then Adalia took the bag of peas from Finn’s hand and gently pressed it to his eye. Her touch sent a wave of warmth through him. It didn’t even matter that there was apparently a tear in the bag of peas, and the cold pellets started tumbling down the collar of his shirt.
“Hit you by accident, huh?”
“Let’s just say you don’t want to sneak up on that guy.” He paused, still thrown off his game. Unsure of what to do next, he found himself asking, “Why are you here?”
“Because I realized something.” She paused, lowering the rapidly emptying bag of peas. She gestured to him and Tyrion, peas flying out of the bag as she did. Then she noticed the leak and snorted as she lowered the bag to the ground.
He laughed with her, and dared to reach out and touch her hand. Weaving their fingers together, he squeezed her hand. “What is it you realized?”
“‘The only thing that matters right now is the people in this room.’”
It was a weird way of putting it, what with the fact that they were outside, plus she’d said it with emphasis, as if the words were supposed to mean something special.
“You can’t imagine how happy I am to hear you say that,” he said. And because he couldn’t avoid the temptation to tease her a little, he added, “Even if we’re technically outside.”
“It’s from Fast Five,” she said. “I needed to feel close to you… I’ve watched it at least five times.”
He started laugh
ing uncontrollably then, and the file slipped from his fingers, papers spilling onto the sidewalk. “Adalia. I’ve never seen it. I was messing with you. My favorite movie is The Goonies.”
“Oh, you asshole,” she said, but she was already laughing too, her eyes sparkling with it. “I kept trying to find all the good things in it because you said you loved it. It was a real struggle the first two times, but after that I kind of got to like it. You will always be the man who made me like Fast Five.”
There were so many things he had to say, some of them scattered beneath their feet, but he pulled her to him and kissed her. It was gentle at first, but it turned fierce in an instant, Adalia pressing closer, slipping a hand under his shirt, laughing a little in her throat when a frozen pea tumbled against her hand. He slid a hand around to cup her butt, and she moaned in a way that made him want to forget all the things they’d left unsaid and carry her upstairs. They could talk later.
But then a car pulled into the driveway next door, and his octogenarian neighbors got out.
He pulled away, panting, and the woman, Phyllis, raised a hand in a wave.
“Hello, Finn,” she said, acting for all the world like she’d caught him gardening instead of making out.
“Hi, Phyllis,” he said.
“Beautiful night, isn’t it? Ben and I just had dinner and dessert at that new restaurant downtown. What is it called, Ben?”
“I can’t remember,” he said, scratching his head. “Gumbo. Jumbo? One of those newfangled names.”
“Amazing dessert,” Phyllis gushed. “Out of this world. The dinner?” She lifted a palm out and shook it from side to side. “So-so.”
“Well, goodnight, kids,” Ben said with a wink, making Finn feel like they were teenagers caught necking in the park. “Have fun.”
“Goodnight!” Adalia called out. “Thanks for the recommendation.” Then she glanced back at Finn, giving him a wicked look. “‘You know I like my dessert first.’”
Before he could comment, or maybe break it to her that there was no restaurant downtown named Gumbo or Jumbo and they had a needle-in-a-haystack chance of finding Phyllis’s dessert, she said, “You wouldn’t get it. Fast Five reference.”
“That’s going to be happening a lot, isn’t it?” he said, laughing.
A little breeze picked up, and some of the papers flew around. “What is all of this, anyway?” Adalia asked. She stooped to pick one up, then stared at him with big eyes. “What did you do?”
“Nothing yet,” he said quickly, silently thanking Maisie. “I…it didn’t sit easily with me, knowing that he might get away with what he did to you. I had a feeling you weren’t the only one, so I looked into it. He’s sexually harassed or stolen from at least six other people at the Lanier School, and the school did their part in covering it up.
“Addy. It’s your decision. Whatever you want to do. But there’s a reporter for The New York Times who’s interested in seeing these files. They wouldn’t need to mention your name. You can make sure he gets what he deserves without involving your family.”
Something rippled over her face. Then she steeled herself, and her expression shuttered. “You did this for me.”
There was no denying it, so he simply nodded.
“I’m not going to ask them to reveal themselves if I won’t do the same. I’ll tell my story. They can use my name too.”
“But your father—”
“Screw my father.” Her eyes went from fierce to regretful in an instant. “I’m sorry, Finn. I’m sorry I nearly ruined everything. You mean so much to me. I just needed some time to put this behind me. And I…I guess I was afraid. I worried that I wouldn’t be enough for you. That you’d want to move on from me like you did with Big Catch.”
He reached into his pocket, his hand wrapping around the small box, and lowered onto one knee, the escaped peas mushing under him.
He heard a gasp, but he didn’t look up as he took out the box and flipped it open. “Adalia Buchanan, ‘you have bewitched me, body and soul. I love, I love, I love you.’ Will you marry me?”
He finally looked up and saw the tears in her eyes. On her cheeks. She took his hand and pulled him up, then cradled his face and met his eyes.
“No,” she said, and for a moment, it felt like the sidewalk would crack open and the earth would swallow him whole, but she added, “not yet. But I love you, you big idiot, and I do want to be your girlfriend.” She motioned to the ring. “We’ll get there. I know we’ll get there.” She smiled up at him. “And not just because that’s the coolest ring I’ve ever seen in my life.” It was a large ruby with two smaller diamonds bracketing it, the design from another era.
“I can live with that,” he said, grinning back. He shut the ring box and pocketed it. She was right—he was nuttier than a Snickers bar for asking, but he’d needed to show her how much she meant to him. He’d needed her to know that he had no intention of moving on to someone else. Adalia was the one he wanted.
She kissed him this time, but it was a quick kiss, and she pulled back with shining eyes. “There’s something I need to show you. I’ve been working at Blue’s studio for weeks, but no one’s seen my sculptures. I want you to be the first.”
So she had been working again. She’d reclaimed the part of herself she’d cast aside, and she wanted to be with him.
He’d never felt happier in his life.
“I would be honored.”
She gave him a playful nudge. “No need to sound like Mr. Darcy too. One person shouldn’t be allowed to have everything.”
“I know,” he said, nudging back. “That’s why I feel impossibly lucky right now.”
She glanced around. “Well, don’t feel too lucky. You must have left your car at my house, so we’re stuck taking Bessie. And to be honest, she’s not smelling so great now that I’ve taken to raiding dumpsters for sculpting materials. Plus, we should really do something about this mess.” There were peas and papers everywhere now. “You do have these electronically, I’m guessing?”
“Of course,” he said, then shrugged. “The papers felt like a more dramatic gesture.”
“Good call,” she said. “Give me a second.”
She headed toward Bessie, and Finn took the opportunity to pet Tyrion, who’d somehow known exactly where to bring him. Adalia returned with a plastic bag, and they hastily scooped the mess inside before tossing it in the trash bin.
Then Adalia took his elbow like she had that day at the Biltmore. “Let’s go, Mr. Darcy. Dire wolf, heel!”
Tyrion fell in behind them, and they set off toward Bessie. As Finn entered the passenger side of that ramshackle car, which did indeed smell, he knew this was only the beginning of something beautiful. And it was the kind of beautiful he wanted to last his whole life.
Epilogue
“This is amazing!” Georgie exclaimed as she pulled Adalia into a hug. “Nearly half of the pieces have sold, and it’s all gone so smoothly!”
Adalia grimaced. “I don’t know about smoothly.”
There’d been some last-minute glitches that had nearly made her pull her hair out. The pieces had been delivered a few days before the event, and a box of pottery had gone missing. The artist had been understandably agitated, but it was finally found in the brewery storage room two hours before opening night. It had been labeled Y. East—the artist’s name—but one of the Buchanan employees had mistaken it for “yeast.” The caterer had also flaked two nights beforehand, but Finn had worked his magic and found one last minute. And lastly, the zipper of the new dress Adalia had bought for the event had broken, leaving her with nothing to wear but a sundress. Blue had found her nearly in tears an hour before the opening night festivities started, and she’d run home to bring her a gorgeous blue dress that was sophisticated and classy, yet not as severe as something Georgie would have lent her.
“You should be proud of yourself,” Georgie said. “You handled all the hiccups like a pro.” She cracked a grin. “You better watch out, or J
ack might worry about his job.”
Adalia released a short laugh. “Uh. No. He can keep his job, thank you very much. I’ve agreed to co-chair the Art Display for the first year, but only because Blue is going to take over Finn’s co-chair spot.”
“Are you sure you’ll have time?” her sister asked with a worried look. “You still need to finish your pieces for your own show in February.”
Lee had worked out a deal with the gallery. They’d agreed to assist with the transportation costs, which would come out of her commission. He’d video called her while she was at home making dinner with Finn to give her the final details.
“What if the pieces don’t sell?” she’d asked.
“They’ll sell,” Finn and Lee had said simultaneously, and they’d all laughed together.
Lee’s expression once again serious, he’d added, “If they don’t sell, then I’ll pay for it myself, an offer I only make because I know it’ll never happen.” Which was a lie she didn’t call him out on. She knew he’d do it anyway, for her. “I’ve seen your work, Addy. This is just the start of great things for you.”
“Nah, I’ve already got plenty of great things.” She glanced over her shoulder at Finn and winked.
“So cheesy,” he said, shaking his head, but his grin gave him away.
To Adalia’s surprise, Lee was fully accepting of Finn. Given his attempt to interfere with Georgie’s relationship with River, she’d expected resistance, but then again, their situation was different. River technically worked for Georgie, and her brother wasn’t the sort who understood mixing business with pleasure. Or pleasure with pleasure, given his choice of girlfriend.
“He makes you happy, Addy,” Lee had said when she’d mentioned it during their now-weekly Sunday afternoon video chats. (She could only assume Victoria had some sort of recurring Pilates class.) “Anyone who makes you that happy is good with me.” But there was something in his expression that raised her suspicions.
Her eyes narrowed. “You looked into him.”
Lee shrugged. “I regret that I didn’t do more about the Alan situation. Besides, it was only a small background check, nothing too in depth, so it didn’t cost much.”
Better Luck Next Time Page 34