She also kept disappearing, and Thoreau wasn’t about to let that happen again. Not when anyone could see that she belonged here. With them.
Fiona thrived around the Finns and Waynes. She fit in as if she were born to, and Thoreau wasn’t that big a believer in things like meant-to-be. More than that, she needed them. Whether she accepted that or not.
Coming to the pub had changed her trajectory, the same as it had Thoreau’s. He and Wyatt had made her linger. But unless he played his cards right today and got Wyatt on board with his plans, there was still a chance she could walk away for good. And nobody would be happy with that decision. Fiona least of all.
When he got to Wyatt’s floor, he braced himself and knocked lightly before pushing open the door. He found Wyatt asleep on the bed, surrounded by an entire roomful of flowers and mylar balloons shaped like firetrucks.
Shit. Well, at least he’d timed the Finn family scheduling right. No one was here, so he must be right in the middle of a shift change.
He moved closer to the bed and took Wyatt in. His color was better. The oxygen mask on his face was a smaller version than the one they’d strapped on him the day he and Fiona arrived. There were also fewer machines in the room, so that had to be a good sign.
They must have had a beautiful mother, Thoreau thought absently. Wyatt, Rory and Noah were all prettier versions of Finn than he was used to. Their features were more finely formed. Full lips, thick lashes and good cheekbones.
Wyatt would hate being classified as pretty, he knew. And out of the three of them, he was the one who seemed the most masculine. His jaw was a shade stronger and usually clenched with irritation. His hair was a dirty-blond mess that looked he’d driven his truck with his head sticking out of the window. The way he sat and spread out like the world owed him extra room. The way he roughhoused. His athleticism—though Thoreau imagined that came with the job unless you were stuck behind a desk at the firehouse.
Good looking was probably the safest adjective. He wasn’t ready to delve too deeply into the other one that sprang to mind.
Sexy.
Wyatt stirred and Thoreau had his bottle out before the man could open his eyes.
“Thor?” He sat up, scowling at his mask and tugging the contraption off his face impatiently. “What happened to Fiona? Is she okay?”
“She’s fine, Wyatt. She just went home to sleep for a few hours.” It made sense that he would go there. Why wouldn’t he? “I wanted to talk to you alone. Run something by you.”
Wyatt was looking at him suspiciously, but his eyes widened in surprise when Thoreau held up the bottle of beer. “I need a taste-tester. I thought after a week in this place, you might want to volunteer.”
He almost laughed when Wyatt glanced at the door like a child about to break curfew. “Well?”
“Well, I’m not saying no,” he responded, his voice deeper and raspier than Thoreau remembered. “Though I’m not sure how accurate this test will be. Anything that’s not broth or Jell-O is going to taste like fucking heaven right about now.”
Let’s hope so. Thoreau wrapped his fist around the top of the bottle to keep it from popping too loudly as he flipped the metal hoop up to open it. A slight thumping hiss escaped, and now they were both glancing at the door.
“Sips only,” he warned, pouring a small amount of the golden liquid into a small plastic cup before handing it to Wyatt. “Bronte’s orders, and trust me, you follow those or you suffer.”
Wyatt looked quizzically at the cup and gave it a tentative sniff, then took a sip, bright blue eyes studying Thoreau the entire time.
For a split second, it looked like Wyatt’s eyes were about to roll back in his head. He let out a groan after he swallowed the beer and smacked his lips before licking them.
Thoreau watched his tongue slide slowly across his bottom lip to catch the last, lingering drop of liquid and—
Sexy. It fit.
“Jesus, that’s smooth,” Wyatt said, sounding impressed.
Without hesitating he tipped the cup back and finished the beer in one gulp. He looked at the bottle expectantly, obviously wanting more, then glanced back at Thoreau when he made no move to indulge him. “So, what’s the deal?”
“What do you mean?”
“You brought beer. To me.” He stared at Thoreau as if he was slow.
“Seamus said you aren’t supposed to be talking this much.”
Wyatt sent him a warning look. “What’s the deal?”
Here we go, Thoreau thought as a zip of adrenaline burst through his veins. He poured Wyatt another small draught as he spoke. “I heard there’d been a discussion about where you’d be spending your time until you get back on your feet. I think you should recuperate with us when you get out tomorrow.”
Wyatt stared at him for a long moment and then tipped the glass to his lips again before echoing, “With us.”
Thoreau nodded and upped the ante. “Fiona wants to take care of you, and my place has plenty of space. She already has her own room and all her things there.”
When Wyatt held out his cup, Thoreau shook his head and took a drink straight from the bottle, making a satisfied sound after it went down. It was smooth. And he was good. “Well?”
Wyatt scowled. “What was the question?”
“I think you heard me.”
“Just making sure.” He shook his head. “Sorry, it’s going to take me a minute to wrap my head around this. You live in that duplex, right? The one you all own together?”
“I bought them out. The Wayne-plex is mine now. Both sides.”
Wyatt shook his head. “I guess the beer business is booming, huh? And the other side is empty?”
“I’m talking about my side, at least at first, while you need more care. You can have my bed, and I’ll stay on the couch. It folds out, so it won’t be a problem. Unless you’d rather have the other side. You’re welcome to that, too.”
Wyatt looked disbelieving. “I’d get an apartment to myself? While you stay at your place with Fiona?”
“If that’s what you want.”
“Oh no, your place is fine. I could have a relapse.”
Thoreau blinked. He’d expected more of an argument and prepared himself to shoot down all his objections. “Just like that?”
“Why do you look so surprised, Thor?” Wyatt asked, holding out his cup expectantly. When Thoreau hesitated, he said, “What? You think I don’t know my brother asked to have me pawned off on another family member?”
Well that was a plot twist he hadn’t seen coming. “I thought this was about the nurse and Zach’s—”
Wyatt sent the small plastic cup spinning on the floor with a growl, which turned into an ugly-sounding cough that lasted close to a minute. Thoreau watched as Wyatt reached for a small bowl and spat into it, grimacing in disgust.
“You need something?” Was this why Hugo had warned Seamus about him talking?
“I need the bullshit to stop.” His voice was raw now. Broken. “This is about the fact that for some reason, he can’t stand to be around me now. The only thing I don’t know is how somebody talked you into taking me in. If Fiona asked you to—”
“Nobody talked me into it, Finn. This was my idea, for better or worse. No bullshit.”
For a minute Wyatt looked disconcerted, then he sighed too. “Sorry,” he said, looking down at the cup on the floor. “I’m a little touchy lately. And I’m not sure I understand why you’re volunteering to add more Finn drama to your life. You’ve already been invaded by William and Younger, and you and Seamus see each other every day.”
Thoreau reached for a clean cup and poured more beer into it, handing it to him. “It’s a hardship,” he agreed easily. “But at least Austen married that pilot. He isn’t related to anyone we know.”
Wyatt snorted, lifting the cup with shaky hands. “He’s JD Green’s brother. Green married the guy who works with my brother, Brady.”
“Carter. I know.” Thoreau smiled. “Still not a Fi
nn. What do you say?”
Wyatt leaned back into his pillows. “I won’t argue. Like you said, Fiona is comfortable at your place. And I don’t want to be anybody’s hot potato. I’d rather go somewhere I’m actually wanted.”
“You won’t be in our way.” You’re wanted.
Wyatt looked like he’d just bitten into a lemon. “She has her own bedroom—Fiona, I mean? One that she sleeps in alone?”
He wouldn’t laugh. Wyatt was still in a hospital gown and he wouldn’t laugh. “Yes, Wyatt. It has a lock and everything. She sleeps alone, and that won’t change as long as you’re there.”
Unless you want it to.
After savoring another sip, he asked, “Did you make this? It’s really good.”
“I did. And other than me, you’re the only guy who’s gotten a taste.”
He finally got a grudging smile. “Really?”
Thoreau sat down in the lounge chair beside the bed and started talking about his recipe for cream ale, while a little thrill of nervous excitement pulsed under his skin.
He’d said yes.
He couldn’t wait to see Fiona’s face when he told her. She’d be surprised. Stunned might be a better word. But he knew it was the best solution for all of them.
Phase one was under way and failure was not an option.
Chapter Five
Fiona
Fiona stared at the screen in wonder, her eyes filling with unexpected tears as she got her first look at the new life growing in her womb. This was real. She’d kept denying it, couldn’t believe it was happening, but…she was having a baby.
Wyatt Finn’s baby.
This is as real as it gets, Fi, and the clock is ticking. No more trying to act like you’re not going to be a mother in about six months.
“It’s too early to tell the sex yet,” the doctor said, maneuvering the ultrasound wand inside her to get a better image, “but the heartbeat is strong and the fetus looks healthy.”
Fiona took a deep breath and nodded at the smiling woman. “Healthy is good.”
The lines on the screen changed as Dr. Kim’s other hand flew over the keyboard, fingers tapping buttons and sliding around the touchpad. “The measurements say your estimate was right on the money—you’re at about twelve weeks, which puts your due date around December 30th. A holiday baby,” she added jovially.
Suddenly the clock started ticking much louder. “I, uh, I have to get to work.”
“Oh. Okay, well, here, I’ll get you a couple of copies to take with you.” The doctor deftly removed the ultrasound wand and took off her gloves, before turning to grab a few printouts of the sonogram, handing them to Fiona as she stood up. “Go ahead and get dressed, and then we’ll have a quick chat.”
After she left, Fiona scooted off the table and wiped the gel from between her legs with the paper drape before balling it up and shoving it into the waste bin. Classy.
She put on her skirt and underwear with jerky, mechanical efficiency, her mood fluctuating between joy and all those other messy, unwelcome emotions trying to kick joy’s ass.
Anxiety. Dread. Loneliness.
December 30th.
For some reason that sounded a lot sooner than six months.
You have to tell them.
She ignored the whisper in her brain as she stepped into her flats. By the time the doctor knocked and came back in, she was already standing there, keys in hand, ready to go.
“Are you all right, dear?” Dr. Kim asked. “I know this is a lot to take in, but you’re looking a little pale. Still taking it in?”
“It’s a process,” Fiona said weakly.
The doctor leaned against the table and crossed her arms, wearing a look of kind but genuine concern. “We haven’t talked about the father yet.”
Did they have to?
“Yeah, that’s…it’s complicated.”
“I take it this is an unplanned pregnancy?”
“The most unplanned. As in, not the one I planned to have at all,” Fiona said with feeling. When she saw the startled look on the doctor’s face, she hurried to add, “But not unwanted. The farthest thing from unwanted.” She put a hand protectively over her belly. “I want this baby.”
It was the first time she’d said it, but she meant it with all her heart.
She couldn’t help but wonder if her mother had felt the same.
No. She doesn’t get to be here.
“I’m so glad.” The doctor smiled in relief. “Now I can say congratulations. We’ll see you again in a month, but don’t be afraid to call for an appointment sooner if you need something or have any questions or unexpected changes in your emotional state. I’m here for more than just the physical health of you and your baby. This is a life-altering experience, even in the best of circumstances. We take a more holistic approach to pregnancy here. I’d like you to think of us as part of your family.”
“Thank you,” Fiona said, blinking away the threat of tears again. “It’s nice to have someone in your corner.”
You’d have to tell people for that to happen.
On her way out, a nurse handed her a surprisingly fancy diaper bag. She instantly wondered how much it was going to add to her bill.
This is not the time to be worried about money.
This was the perfect time to worry. About lots of things.
“There are all kinds of coupons for diapers and formula in there, as well as a pregnancy planner and a copy of What to Expect When You’re Expecting,” the nurse told her. “You can make your next appointment at the desk before you go.”
Wide-eyed, Fiona obediently made her next appointment and then headed to her car. She dropped the ultrasound images into the diaper bag and then shoved it into her trunk—where it would stay hidden until she could figure out what she was going to do—and headed for the pub. Her shift started in thirty minutes and Finn’s was twenty minutes away, so she needed to step on it.
Safely, now. Driving for two.
“Fuck a duck.”
God, what a mess, she groaned inwardly as she pulled out of the parking lot. She’d always tried to avoid those, and now she’d gotten herself into the most complicated tangle of them all.
Well, Wyatt had obviously played a role, but she owned her part in this karmic tragicomedy.
When he’d first started pursuing her, she’d let herself enjoy the chase. He was fun and easy to be around—a beautiful blond fireman who was as much a faker as she was. Pretending to be more arrogant and oblivious than he was, while noticing everything and everyone around him. The Wyatt Finn he showed to the world—the sexy, happy bachelor content to be his brother’s wingman—wasn’t the whole picture. He’d just been going through the motions for so long he’d forgotten. He tempted her to remind him.
The chemistry between them had been off the charts. She’d felt desire before, but there was something about him that made her react in a way she never imagined she could. He’d scrambled her brain and lit her body up like the fourth of July every time he came around.
So she flirted. And he flirted back. And all the while, Fiona assured herself it was harmless. She was new and different, and Wyatt would move on to someone else when he realized nothing was going to happen between them, because for the moment, she wanted to keep working at Finn’s.
Only he hadn’t moved on.
Instead, he’d listened to her. Watched her and watched over her. Guided people to her who needed advice, though they both knew it was a thinly veiled excuse to be around her. She’d given him hell for it, teased him about it, but it didn’t make a dent in that hard head of his. Even when she’d started spending more time with Thoreau, Wyatt Finn would not give up.
And if she were being honest, in her heart she hadn’t wanted him to.
She couldn’t pinpoint the moment things had changed. When she started feeling more for him than amusement and sexual attraction. As soon as she realized what was happening, she’d fought against it. She couldn’t be in love with him. Wyatt had
stability and monogamy written all over him. And babies, though it had taken him a while to warm up to all the new miniature additions to his family.
Thoreau had been the perfect, cooler counterpoint to the fiery Wyatt. He knew himself in a way she couldn’t help but find appealing. She’d been drawn to his intellect, his gorgeous smile, and his openminded view of the world. He stimulated her mind and was easy on the eyes. Her feelings for the ambitious brewer had snuck up on her. One day he’d been the friend she couldn’t go more than a few hours without talking to or texting. Then, before she’d realized she was falling, it was already too late.
She’d always been open to experiencing a ménage—and open to expressing how open she was, just to see the look on people’s faces—but she’d honestly never expected to actually fall in love with two men at the same time. That meant more than a long weekend for her memoirs. That meant mess. Complication. Probable heartbreak and misunderstandings. That wasn’t what she wanted her life to be about.
She’d wanted to spend her life learning and experiencing new things. Not tying herself to one person—or two— one job, one narrow slice of life instead of the whole pie.
You want. You want. You want. Only it’s not all about you anymore, is it?
Fiona sighed. When things with Wyatt kept getting harder, and things with Thoreau had gotten too intense to keep denying for Wyatt’s sake, she’d taken an opportunity to go back to California, using that time to do some serious soul-searching. She hadn’t been sure she would come back, no matter how miserable it made her to imagine staying away.
And then she’d gotten the news that made it all a million times more complicated.
A baby. Her baby.
Hers and Wyatt’s.
The baby meant her real reasons for being in California no longer mattered—not that she’d told Wyatt or Thoreau the truth about that either. They’d never understand.
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