“Finn insinuated I’m anything other than a saint.”
“Because he knows you well, love,” he returned, earning a quick jab of her elbow to his stomach. “Ooph.”
“I’m simply asking younotto scare her off.” I stood, slipping my phone into the left inside pocket of my suit jacket. “She’s skittish as it is, so if you start planning our wedding at the dinner table, she might bolt.”
Noreen rolled her eyes. “Psh. The planning has already commenced.”
“Feckin’ hell.”
Tension crept up my spine, burrowing into my shoulders. I had enough on my mind without adding my overly enthusiastic assistant to the mix. Waverly’s team was hard at work investigating, yet they were nowhere close to coming up with a name. Sleep was almost as evasive as whoever was behind the threats. Even when I did manage to close my eyes, it didn’t last long. I was running on empty, physically and emotionally. Something had to give.
“I’m playing, Finn.” Noreen took hold of my arm, stopping me as I skirted past the pair. “Sort of. You know I’d never do anything to jeopardize your happiness. It’s all we’ve ever wanted for you. You’re the son we never had.”
“I know.” Bending down, I kissed her on the cheek. “Sorry.”
“All’s well, my boy. Now, go get your girl.”
She didn’t have to tell me twice. With one more quick peck on her cheek, I took off down the hallway, hopped on the elevator, and rode it to the ground floor. When the silver doors slid open, Wes was waiting against the far wall. He’d become my shadow whenever I left the building until I was tucked in at home each night. Tonight, would be the exception to the rule, only because I’d be surrounded by Joel plus my badass, gun-toting FBI agent. So far, the arrangement worked for us. Our only argument occurred when he insisted on being my chauffeur. Needless to say, once I politely reminded him that I signed his paychecks, not the other way around, he wisely saw things my way.
Pulling up outside the FBI building, nervous flutterserupted in my stomach. It was fair to say my father and I didn’t have the best relationship. Actually, since I started my own company, our communication came mostly in the form of insults and jabs through email or text messages. Mom, on the other hand, was a good woman, just not a very invested mother. She’d found a quiet life for herself on the shores of Maine, where she spent the majority of her day crocheting blankets for the homeless. We spoke maybe once a month and saw each other around Christmas. Which left Sloane and the kids as my closest relatives, along with Noreen and Joel, who were the parents of my heart. The five of them were my family. Their opinions were the only ones I cared about. Well…and now Waverly made the short list. Dinner needed to go off without a hitch.
“Hey, Mr. O’Lachlan,” Sammy greeted me when I walked through the double doors. “Waverly’s in her office.”
“It’s Finn, Sammy, please.” I stopped in front of her desk. “Is it okay if I head on back?”
“She’s just finishing up a call, but I’m sure it’s fine. Can I get you anything to drink? Water? Coffee? Soda?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
I proceeded past her station, then turned left down the far hallway. As I approached Waverly’s office, Duncan stuck his head out of his.
“Do you have a minute?”
He and I hadn’t had very many interactions over the past ten days, besides the ones with the whole team and the car accident. From what I’d gathered, he and Waverly built their team up together. Their relationship went far beyond being coworkers, though I didn’t get the impression they’d explored anything romantic. It was more of a familial bond between them, similar to what I had with Noreen and Joel.
“Sure.” I veered off course, stepping across the threshold. “Is this about my case?”
“Nope.”
Feck.
At six six, I was no slouch in height or breadth. My workout routine was solid; eight miles on the treadmill each morning, followed by weight training. I was fit, but that didn’t mean I held a candle to the man currently glaring a hole through my center. If I had to wager a guess, he could bench press a small car without breaking a sweat. There was no way to defend myself against his level of hulk, so I had to hope our impromptu meeting didn’t end in a smackdown.
Taking a stab at the topic of discussion, I offered, “I’m not gonna hurt her.”
He hiked a brow, widened his stance, and crossed his arms over his massive chest. “You’ve known her for exactly five minutes, O’Lachlan. Don’t write checks your hefty bank account can’t cash.”
“And you’ve known me even less.” My feet moved before I thought better of it. Two steps forward; mirroring his pose. We were nearly toe to toe, neither of us willing to back down. “Life is one gigantic risk. Each move I make, both personal and professional, is calculated down to the smallest decimal. No way in hell would I up and move everything and everyone I care about if I thought for one second there wasn’t a future for me here in Huntington with Waverly. She’s got me tied up in knots, yet I’ve never felt more free.”
“She has a truckload full of baggage. Are you prepared to help her unpack it?”
“I’ve got a big closet.”
“I’m sure you do.” His arms dropped to his side.
While I appreciated his concern, I was finished with the interrogation. Turning on my heel, I muttered, “Good talk” as I opened the door.
“One more thing,” he said, halting my escape. “Let’s keep this conversation between us.”
