‘I love wearing your clothes. They’re so soft and worn and they smell of you.’
‘But they’remyclothes. How’d you feel if I stole your clothes all the time?’
‘Right, fat chance trying to fit into my stuff. It’d be like Gulliver trying to wear the Lilliput’s clothes.’
‘Jesus…’
‘Besides, I prefer you naked and indecent. Wow, that sounds like one of those expensive perfumes, dontcha think, babe?Naked and Indecentby Hank Dietrich.’
“Hey, buddy.” Finn’s melodic voice wafted towards him, blending in with Eugene’s breathy one, until it faded back into the past. “You miss me? I think you did,” Finn cooed, brushing the enthusiastic pup behind his ears. He looked different now that he was wearing the black-framed glasses. They suited him, making him look less like a wild creature and more like a person. In the unforgiving light coming through the kitchen window, Hank realized Finn was older than he’d initially pegged him. More likely mid-thirties instead of late twenties. “Such a good boy, aren’t you? Yeah, you are.”
Suddenly, Finn looked up, self-conscious that he wasn’t alone. Giving the pup one final pat, he rose from the floor, his slender posture guarded, his broad chest stretching the fabric of Hank’s T-shirt. He looked good in green. Real good. There was an odd discrepancy between his lean limbs, muscular chest, and almost broad, corded neck. The striking contrast between his boyish wavy hair and then his dark eyes told a tale of growing up too fast or seeing more than he’d bargained for. Or, perhaps, Hank was just making shit up, giving Finn a backstory since he hadn’t offered him one yet.
Henry immediately rose from the table, an eager, forthcoming expression on his face. Holding out his hand in front of Finn, a broad smile spread from cheek to cheek.
“Hi there. You must be Finn. Nice to meet ya. I’m Henry.” Nodding over his shoulder, he rambled on, “And that grump over there who’s tryin’ real hard right now to look mean is my boyfriend—no, scratch that—my fiancé, Colton.” Leaning closer against a dumbfounded Finn, he whispered conspiratorially, “He’s really a softy once you get to know him. He just has thisbroody thing going on because he knows it makes me putty in his hands, right, baby?” He winked at Colton.
A stunned Finn nodded slowly, his stupefied eyes searching Hank’s like he was some anchor. A low growl came from Colton’s end of the table, Hank recognizing the words,just wait,andlater,Henry sticking out his tongue, murmuring fragments that sounded a lot likedon’t threaten me with a good time.For Pete’s sake.
“C’mon. Sit down,” Henry continued, unfazed, throwing Colton a dazzling smile. “Hank just made coffee.” He pulled out a chair for the newcomer and went to sit down next to Colton, who immediately placed a possessive arm around his shoulders.
Appearing still somewhat shell-shocked, Finn sat down across from them, and Hank placed a cup of steaming hot coffee in front of him before taking a seat next to him. Leaning in against Finn, he murmured, “Careful. Don’t burn yourself.”
“Thanks,” Finn spoke, his slim fingers playing with the sky-blue linen tablecloth. There was a nervous aura around him and before giving it any further consideration, Hank reached out his right hand, placing it on top of Finn’s, stilling his movements. Finn sucked in a sharp breath, his gaze momentarily searching Hank’s.
“It’s okay.” Hank patted his hand before pulling away. “They’re both harmless.” He winked while nodding at the pair across from them. “Obnoxious but harmless.”
“Jesus…” Colton groaned while Henry started firing questions at the stranger.
“So, Finn, how’s your hand doing? You gave Hank here quite the scare.”
“Jesus,”Hank groaned now, sweeping at the deep frown between his brows that looked more like a scar by now. Eugene used to rub at it, smiling teasingly. ‘When you look at me like that, I never know if you wanna kiss me or eat me.’
‘Maybe I wanna do both…’
“May I?” Henry reached across the table and grabbed Finn’s hand carefully as he started unwrapping the gauze. The final layer was stuck to the wound and when Henry tugged it away, a small wince spilled from Finn’s chapped lips. Hank reached out and squeezed his shoulder, mumbling a soothing, “You’re good, you’re good,” and the curious look that Colton sent him from his end of the table didn’t elude him.
“It looks nice and clean,” Henry spoke, all professional now. “Only a little swelling left. A week more of keeping it clean and taking antibiotics, and you should be good to go.” He smiled as he started re-wrapping Finn’s hand.
Good to go.The three inconspicuous words lingered in the space between them, Finn nodding solemnly, Hank recognizing a sting in his chest. One more week and he would be alone again. Then Finn would move on, Hayley’s Peak just another stop on his way to God knows where. At the age of fifty-nine, Hank was way past bullshitting himself. He left that to other people. Despite him only knowing Finn for a little more than 36 hours, and Finn being asleep most of the time or trying to attack him when he was awake, there was something unsettling about Henry’s innocent words.Good to go.
He recognized the feeling building inside him for what it was. He didn’t want Finn to go. Not yet, anyway. He liked the guy. He enjoyed the company. Winter was just around the corner, and they were long and lonely in these parts of the country. He shivered at the recollection of that first winter after Eugene had passed, and Colton hadn’t come to stay with him yet. There’d been days—and nights—when he’d contemplated more than once to put an end to it all, but in the end, it had felt like the ultimate betrayal because he’d promised Eugene to go on.
“Thanks,” Finn whispered, his gaze resting on his hand. “One week,” he turned towards Hank, before continuing, his voiceindecipherable. “One more week and I’ll be out of your hair, Hank.” There was an unspoken question in his blurry brown eyes and even though Hank couldn’t quite get a read on it, the answer seemed clear as day. He didn’t want Finn out of his hair. Or out of his house, for that matter. And before he could second-guess himself, the words left his mouth,
“Or you could stay? At least, over the winter. You could stay.”
Chapter Fourteen
Finn
Now
Or you could stay.The words rang through the small kitchen, or they seemed to—at least to Finn, as loud as thunder tearing through the night. At first, he assumed that he’d misheard, but when Hank had repeated them, looking straight at him, he’d understood their full meaning.You. Could. Stay.Not even after that summer in Montana had anyone asked him to stay when the days grew shorter and there was an extra bite in the morning air. Eight years on the road, and Hank was the first person to ask him to stick around.
“I think we better get going.” Henry’s gaze flickered between him and Hank, his elbow poking at his fiancé. Hank seemedto have taken over Finn’s newfound habit of playing with the tablecloth, a deep indecipherable frown lingering between his bushy brows.
“Yep.” Colton nodded, getting up, towering over Finn like a prehistoric giant. “We’ve got a lot of stuff to unpack.”
