He whimpered, hands balling into fists in my shirt. “Please.”
I tapped him on the nose. “Your uncle and mum are here. We should offer them some company.”
He pouted, and I kissed him again because only a blind man could resist that expression. “You’re right.”
“I know I am. We’re Aussie. The least they deserve is a good barbie tonight, ay?” I winked, and he chuckled.
“Barbie?” his mum asked, confused.
Finn threw a smile over his shoulder at her. “Barbecue, Mom. He means a barbecue.”
* * *
Four hours later, everyone was stuffed—full, not exhausted—and they made their way back inside. Finn stayed behind, helping me pack up the barbie I’d scoured until it looked new. I liked taking care of my possessions, and as soon as something was used, it was cleaned and put away.
He followed me as I wheeled the smoker back into the garage, where it had its own storage in the corner. This was the first time Finn had been in here with me, and I hadn’t noticed he’d stopped until I had the barbie back in its spot and covered it with a protective sheet. When I glanced over my shoulder, he was standing near one of the cars I hadn’t used since he’d arrived. Hell, I hadn’t driven it since Dad died.
“What kind of car is this?” He glanced at me curiously. “I’ve never seen this emblem.” He tapped the Holden badge on the boot. The logo was a lion with its paw placed on top of a circle. I had no bloody idea what the circle resembled, and I never Googled it, either, but the badge was a well-known Aussie staple. Around the world, it’d been rebranded as GM, but Holden wasours, even if they no longer made cars under that name anymore.
This car meant more to me than any other I owned. Blue in color—Electric blue, Ledge, my dad used to say, always accurate when it came to his car—the vehicle was a 1968 Holden Monaro GTS HK.
“That’s my dad’s.” I walked over to Finn and stopped at his side while staring at the old vehicle. I made sure it ran, hiring a mechanic to come here and keep it in good condition, but I’d forbidden anyone, including my siblings, to drive it. “It’s an Aussie brand car. Holden Monaro.”
Finn blinked up at me in surprise. “I’ve never heard of it, though it reminds me of a Chevy.”
I nodded. “That would make sense, considering that’s what they are over in America.”
“But why is it a Holden over here?” He cocked his head and looked adorable. I couldn’t resist wrapping my arm around his shoulders and dragging him against me.
Pressing a kiss to his temple, I hummed. “Honestly, I have no bloody idea, Lolly.” I stared at the car for a moment before I tugged him toward it. I stopped him beside the passenger door and held up a finger. “I’ll be back in a sec.”
Leaving him there, I rushed to the house, then up the stairs to the top floor. Mum was entertaining Finn’s mum and uncle, telling them a story that had them cackling, while Cyclone made what appeared to be cocktails of some kind. She was an expert at mixing drinks since she had been a bartender in her early twenties.
They didn’t notice me as I grabbed the keys from the hook, and when I got back out to the garage, Finn had his hands cupped to the window, staring through into the car. His curiosity for a vehicle Dad had loved made my heart skip a beat.
“Here.” I stopped beside him, and he shifted away so I could unlock the car. Once I had the door open, I swung it wide and gestured inside. “Get in.”
“Are we going for a drive?” He flashed me an excited smile, and heat filled my stomach.
I winced, though. “I haven’t driven the Monaro since... since my dad died.”
His surprised stare shot to my face, and his brow furrowed. He reached for my hand and linked our fingers together, and the comfort was a welcome emotion that made me give him a small smile. “You’ve never mentioned him before. I remember that cop saying something, at the station.”
I nodded. “Lazzo’s a cunt.” He cringed, and I laughed. “Americans don’t like that word, huh?”
“It’s not something we say in public, that’s for sure, but I’ve heard ita lotsince I got here. Some of the guys who are direct from Ireland say it. Even my mom doesn’t say it much, and she was born there. You Aussies say it like you’re talking about the weather.”
I shrugged. “It’s a word, and it’s only as bad as you make it. It can be a pet name for a friend or an insult to an arsehole like Lazzo.”
“Your country confuses me.”
I laughed loudly and wrapped him up in my arms, then laid another kiss on his cheek. “You’ll get used to it. Come on.” I helped him into the passenger seat and leaned over to wind down the window. Once fresh air was able to get into the car—because it was too old to have air con—I went around to the driver’s side and unlocked the door.
When I got in, I noticed Finn was caressing the brown-and-black dashboard, his fingers tracing the badge, which saidGTS, that had been glued on in front of the passenger seat. His gaze was searching and there was a respect in his eyes that made my chest tighten.
“I’m the reason my dad’s dead,” I said truthfully, jerking him out of his reverie.
He blinked at me and tilted his head curiously. He didn’t speak, but he didn’t need to because I could see the question in his stare. Even though I was here with Finn, it didn’t make it any easier to talk about. Dad’s death did a number on all of us, and we’d made a silent pact to never bring up the way he died. The only one who regularly talked about Dad was Mum, but it never involved mob business. She’d reminisce about the small things he’d done, and it brought back fond memories for all of us.
