“Great. Perfect. Yes.” Ollie nodded too enthusiastically. “I’ve moved some things around to create space. And there’s coffee!And pastries. In the back. If you want. Not required, obviously. Just…available.”
Finn’s expression softened slightly. “Coffee would be great. Black?—”
“I remember,” Ollie finished, then immediately wanted to sink through the floor. “I mean, like you mentioned in your email. Black coffee. Right. This way.”
He led them toward the kitchenette, acutely aware of Brendan’s amused glance between him and Finn. The younger O’Riley had an air of mischief about him that both charmed and terrified Ollie in his current state of sleep-deprived vulnerability.
In the small break room, Ollie’s hands trembled slightly from caffeine overload and nerves as he poured Finn’s coffee. He handed a mug to him, their fingers brushing briefly in the exchange.
“Thanks,” Finn said quietly, his eyes meeting Ollie’s for a moment before dropping to his mug.
“These look amazing,” Brendan commented, helping himself to a pastry. “From Sweet & Simple?”
Ollie nodded, grateful for the distraction. “Yeah, I work there part-time. Morning shifts, usually. Megan gave me these to fuel the repair efforts.”
“You work two jobs?” Finn asked, something like surprise in his tone.
“Three, if you count being the town’s most eligible disaster a job,” Ollie quipped, the joke slipping out before his filter could catch it. “But yes, bookstore and bakery. The glamorous life of a small business owner in the age of Amazon and Starbucks. Imean, not that I own the bookstore. It’s my parents’, but they’ve relied more heavily on me to keep the doors open over the past few years. Someday, it’ll be mine if I can find a way to stand against the online overlords.”
Finn’s brow furrowed slightly, but before he could respond, Brendan jumped in.
“Speaking of disasters, Finn here is a master at fixing them. You’re in good hands.” He clapped his brother on the shoulder. “Though he’s more spreadsheets than small talk, fair warning.”
“Brendan,” Finn said, a note of warning in his voice.
“What? It’s a compliment. You’re the most organized person I know.” Brendan took a large bite of danish, continuing through it, “He has a spreadsheet that tracks the shelf life of every item in his pantry and sends him alerts when something’s about to expire.”
Ollie’s lips twitched despite his nerves. “Really? That’s either brilliantly methodical or slightly obsessive.”
“It’s practical,” Finn muttered, but there was the ghost of that almost-smile again, playing at the corners of his mouth.
“Practical would be taking a peek in the pantry before you go shopping and hoping for the best, which is my method,” Ollie countered. “Spreadsheets in general cross into a special realm of organization that both intimidates and fascinates me.”
Brendan laughed, nearly choking on his pastry. “I like him,” he declared to Finn. “Can we keep him?”
“We’re here to fix his ceiling, not adopt him. He’s not a puppy at the shelter,” Finn replied, but the tension in his shoulders hadeased slightly. He turned to Ollie. “We should go over the plan for today before the rest of the crew arrives.”
The next half hour was spent walking through the repair strategy, with Finn explaining each phase in detail. Despite his initial nervousness, Ollie relaxed as Finn spoke. There was something reassuring about the man’s methodical approach, the careful way he planned to minimize disruption to the store’s operations.
“We’ll need to move these shelves,” Finn said, gesturing to a section near the damaged area. “And relocate the books temporarily.”
“I can help with that,” Ollie offered immediately. “This is the one area in life where I have my shit together. I’ve got a system. Well, several systems, depending on the genre. But I can adapt.”
“I’m sure you can,” Finn said, something like amusement flickering in his eyes. “But you really don’t need to do the heavy lifting.”
“I’d still like to help,” Ollie insisted. “These books are my responsibility. Some of them are irreplaceable.”
Finn studied him for a moment, then nodded. “All right. You can handle the book relocation. But we’ll take care of the shelves.”
“Deal,” Ollie agreed, relieved. “Though I’m stronger than I look. All that restocking builds surprisingly specific muscles.”
“I bet it does,” Brendan murmured, earning another sharp look from Finn.
The rest of the crew arrived shortly after, and the work began in earnest. Plastic sheeting was put up to contain the dust, and Ollie set to work emptying the affected shelves. He packed booksinto temporary storage boxes, pausing now and then to handle particularly delicate volumes with extra care.
Mid-morning, Brendan’s phone rang, and he stepped outside to take the call after telling the other person they were working with to take a quick break, leaving Ollie and Finn alone among the partially emptied shelves. A moment of silence stretched between them, not quite uncomfortable but charged with an awareness that hadn’t been there when the others were present.
“More coffee?” Ollie offered, gesturing toward the break room.
