She’d seen it now. The little peanut inside her that was part her and part Finn. And with that image came joy and terror, emotions so thick they threatened to choke her, filling her throat until she could barely breathe.
They wouldn’t understand. How could they?
She’d promised herself at thirteen that she would never, under any circumstances, get married and give up her freedom. That she’d never put faith in anything but herself. She’d never been tempted to change her mind on that score, but then she’d fallen for Wyatt and Thoreau. Two men who were both built for commitments and obligations and vows.
She couldn’t give them that. She couldn’t give anyone that. She couldn’t even conform or keep to a schedule long enough to get herself out of debt. With her degree, she could get a job that would solve her financial problems in short order, but she just couldn’t bring herself to give up the freedom to come and go as she pleased.
It was the same reason she’d always kept a bag packed and her passport up to date. In case she got the itch to move on or see something new. In case she needed to reinvent herself and start again, free and clear with a clean slate.
Now she was committed for life to the baby growing inside her, and she had no idea what she was going to do. The pregnancy had turned her world on its head—and Wyatt’s and Thoreau’s along with it, though they didn’t know it yet. She’d tried to tell Wyatt at the hospital, but then the moment had passed and she’d decided to put if off until he was stronger.
How was she going to tell them now?
One busy happy hour later, she finally took the time to check her messages.
Thor: Home now. Checked on patient. He ate my cereal again.
Wyatt: You have no chips. I was hungry.
Thor: Update on patient. He’s hidden the remote. Someone wants broth for dinner.
Wyatt: That’s low. Even for you.
Fiona grinned as she replied. Honestly, it was like living with a couple of preteens.
Fi: Play nice, children. Mommy’s at work.
Mommy.
She slid her phone into her back pocket and heaved an exaggerated sigh for the benefit of Jake Finn and JD Green, who were both seated at the bar. “Remind me why I thought two men were a good idea again?”
Jake snorted. “Maybe all that texting is a good sign. At least they’re talking?”
“Do your dads even know you’re here, Jake?”
He looked up from his own phone with the killer smile she knew he’d been working on to impress the ladies. Effective. “Are you trying to change the subject, Fiona? A little childish, don’t you think?”
What did it say about her that one of her closest friends wasn’t old enough to drink and the other was JD Green? She had an affinity for orphan boys and open hearts? These two were her lifelines most days, but lately—and by lately, she meant since Wyatt moved in a couple of weeks ago—they’d been giving her nothing but grief.
“Just saying,” she shrugged. “Young college boy, hanging at a bar during happy hour…”
“I’m nineteen, Fiona. I do what I want. And part of this will be mine someday.”
“All hail Prince Jake of Pub Finn,” JD joked, bowing his head regally in the younger man’s direction. “Although, and I cannot stress this enough, any man who must say, ‘I am the king’ is no true king.”
Jake rolled his eyes. “You’re bringing up Thrones, Green? Too soon.”
“You’re right.” JD leaned against the bar despondently and reached for his beer. He still had a thing for Brady’s Stout. “The ending ruined that show’s quotability forever.”
Fiona sucked on her lower lip to keep from laughing. It was a habit she hadn’t managed to kick since losing the piercing. “It’s a fictional series, guys. You need to let it go.”
“Tell that to David and Rory,” Jake countered. “They didn’t sign the petition, but their YouTube channel held a live chat that felt more like an Irish wake after the finale.”
“I can’t believe Seamus was okay with you watching that.” Fiona grimaced. “It was all violence, incest and brothels, wasn’t it? I read somewhere that the two biggest romances were between relatives, and the only strong female characters dressed like men. I feel like the author needs some therapy.”
“Spoiler alert,” JD burst out, causing several people, including the other two bartenders, to turn in their direction. “Sorry. Bad habit. But you really need to read the books before you start judging.”
“And once again, nineteen.”
Every time he said that it gave Fiona a start. He’d grown up so fast. When she’d first met him, he’d reminded her of an adult trapped in a teenage body, but now his body was starting to catch up. Jake was taller than JD at this point. All broad shoulders and a new confidence that made all the coeds swoon. Jake might not look like a Finn, but he’d inherited all of their best qualities. Including charisma, if his busy social calendar was anything to go by.
“I miss nineteen,” JD sighed. “But not as much as I miss the days when Fiona used to talk to her two besties about her two boyfriends. Should I point out your tendency to collect matching sets instead? Or—ooh, I know—how about your fetish for self-sabotage?”
As an advice columnist for the lovelorn, JD was fantastic at reading people, incredibly entertaining and usually very helpful.
Usually.
But you told them instead of the people who really need to know.
“Not now, Green. Weren’t we talking about violence in television and writers with strange fetishes?”
“Yeah, not now, Green,” Jake echoed, ignoring her attempt at deflection. “It’ll be better to have this conversation in a few months. When the real reason she came back early is obvious to anyone with eyes.”
Fiona stiffened, glancing around to make sure no one was paying attention to this end of the bar. “It’s only been two weeks. Wyatt is just now getting to the point where he can take a shower without needing a breathing treatment and a nap. And he and Thoreau are finally able to be in the same room without snapping at each other.”
“They snap in texts,” Jake corrected. “But you’re right, they’re not physically snapping at each other.”
That didn’t mean they’d decided to be friends. No one had been more surprised than Fiona was when Thoreau volunteered the Wayne-plex for Wyatt’s recovery. Or more shocked that Wyatt accepted. She’d been so tired at that point, and everyone else had seemed so relieved, that she hadn’t taken the time to consider what it meant.
Both of them. Together under the same roof. She and Thoreau taking turns nagging Wyatt about his medicine and taking him to the doctor. All three of them arguing about dinner and sharing a bathroom. All three of them going commando while their underwear shared a spin cycle in the washing machine.
It was heaven. It was torture. It was almost perfect, and she didn’t want it to end.
She shook her head. “Now is not the time to throw a live grenade into the mix.”
“A baby is not a grenade, Fiona,” JD scoffed, pushing his longish hair out of his face impatiently and adjusting his glasses. “It’s a gift. You know that better than anyone.”
She folded her elbows onto the bar and pressed her forehead against the cool wood. “I do know that. Of course I know that.” She looked up at him. “But these last few weeks I’ve seen hints of how great it could be to have them both right there with me. Even if they are texting passive aggressively. It won’t last. It can’t, and I know that. Wyatt would never be okay with this for the long haul and I have—well, you know what I have. I just wanted to enjoy it while I could without adding any complications. Is that so horrible?”
“You don’t know that it can’t last. You’ve just decided it can’t. That’s not the same thing. And you’re making it a self-fulfilling prophecy because you haven’t given Wyatt and Thoreau the whole carrot.”
Fiona took a breath and counted to ten. “JD, I love you and your giant brain, but if you give me the carrot and stick spe
ech again, I might ban you from the pub forever.”
“The whole carrot,” he repeated stubbornly. “And in this scenario, the carrot is the truth and you’re still giving them the stick. You have a master’s degree in psychology. I know you understand the importance of communication.”
Fiona’s throat tightened at the idea of having a conversation like that with Wyatt and Thoreau. Total honesty.
He was right. If anyone had asked for her advice, she would have said the same thing. If they wanted their relationship to stand a chance, they all had to be honest and up front about everything.
Who she was now—Fiona Howard, perennial student and nosy bartender with a penchant for sexual adventures and an air of magical mystery—that was all she showed to the world.
When she’d applied to work here, taking over for the owner’s sister—known to all the regulars as Little Finn—she hadn’t expected to stay too long. But she’d been drawn to Seamus, the stressed-out father of four and his large, delightfully intrusive family. She’d been drawn to Jake, the smart, quiet boy who seemed to carry the weight of the world’s happiness on his shoulders—especially his father’s.
She’d been here for more than three years now, and they’d all gotten under her skin in one way or another. Into her heart. If she was going to break free, she’d better do it soon.
And she would. She had to. Just as soon as she told them.
Is that why you’re hesitating? A little selfish, don’t you think?
“I’ve finished my whole beer just watching you spiral in silence,” JD said, snapping her back to reality. “Let’s talk it out before you disappear into a pile of extra gooey anxiety and traumatize Jake before he’s even had sex.”
“How did you—” Jake’s jaw clenched and Fiona was taken aback at how much he reminded her of Wyatt when he was frustrated. “Fiona, I think JD has hit his limit.”
“You can’t do that. Can he do that?” JD looked at his empty glass before turning to Jake apologetically. “I’m a horrible, nosy know-it-all and I’m sorry I snuck that in there when we should be focusing on telling Fiona how to live her life. Can I please have another beer, Prince Jake?”
Jake gave him a nod and Fiona opened a bottle of stout, pouring it into his glass as she stared him down.
“You want to talk it out?” she asked, lowering her voice as she got herself a glass of water. “You want me to just tell them that I lied about why I left and that I’m pregnant with Wyatt’s baby, but I’d still like to fool around with both of them when he gets better, so I hope they forgive me and we can move passed it? You think that would go over well?”
Jake set his phone down and stared at her with wide eyes before taking the water glass from her hand and drinking half of it down in one go. “When you put it like that, I might actually be too young for this conversation.”
“Please. You’re nineteen,” JD said, his concerned gaze glued to Fiona. “And yes, that’s what I want. Maybe not exactly like that but… I’m sorry, you’re my best friend and I’m willing to do many humiliating and potentially illegal things for you, but it’s my turn to tell you to stop being an idiot. The men currently vying for your affection have a right to know. Especially about the baby daddy portion of your little reveal.”
Fiona gasped when a gorgeous purse plopped down on the bar beside them, accompanied by its equally stunning owner, Natasha Finn. “Did someone say baby daddy?”
Damn it!
“Is Little Finn pregnant again? No way,” Tasha answered herself swiftly, pushing the riot of curls off her face. “I saw her this morning and she always tells me everything. Sometimes too much, hard as it is to believe.”
She sent Jake a side-eyed look and smiled in genuine delight. “Hey, you adorable overachiever. I heard you’ve had classes all summer. Is that why we didn’t see you at the last Finn Again?”
Jake blushed, looking as if he’d forgotten how to blink. Fiona didn’t blame him one bit. His uncle’s wife was a gorgeous, unstoppable force of nature. Attractive to everyone and impossible to ignore. If she didn’t have her hands full with Wyatt and Thoreau, she’d be ogling her too.
“I’m off today. Actually…” He sent an apologetic look to Fiona. “I do have a study group with some friends that I’m late for. Talk to you later, Fi?”
“Sure.” Study group, my eye.
“Be good, Prince Jake,” JD offered, batting his eyelashes.
Tasha laughed. “Prince Jake. It fits. He is a prince, and the best babysitter I ever had until his schedule got so busy. Ned and Huck are in a fearless, daredevil phase that is aging me by the day, and he’s usually the only one who can talk them off the ledge. And I’m talking about an actual ledge because they think they can fly now.”
Fiona chuckled. “I can only imagine what that would be like with twins. Why is it we never try to take off from the ground?”
“Because.” JD pushed his empty glass in Fiona’s direction, starting to look a little tipsy. “That split second before the crash is the closest we’ll ever get to flight without growing wings. Not that I ever tried that or anything. I’m not a pigeon.”
Pigeon?
“Prince Jake has spoken,” Fiona said lightly, taking away his glass and replacing it with water. “Cutting you off now.”
“Harsh.”
Tasha sat down beside JD, looking amused. “I don’t know about pigeons, but I was thinking of taking them to that indoor skydiving place to see if we could get it out of their systems. They have a kiddie class I’ve been hearing good things about. Now, which baby daddy were we discussing again?”
Like a sexy dog with a bone. “No one you would know?”
Maybe she shouldn’t have phrased that like a question.
Thankfully, despite her stealing his beer, JD still jumped in to save the day. “What’s Mrs. Senator doing at a bar for happy hour? The political gossips will be agog. Why don’t people say agog anymore? We should make it a thing again.”
Tasha grinned at Fiona. “If you’d get me a margarita, I’ll tell you why I’m here.”
Fiona fixed her drink while Tasha started talking in hushes tones. “Believe it or not, I came looking for you, JD. I called Brady, who called your husband, and he said you were here with Fiona, catching up since she’s been off taking care of poor Wyatt.”
Tasha glanced over in gratitude as Fiona handed her the drink. “Bless you, by the way. And not just for this. Everyone’s been a mess about those two boys for weeks.”
“Why were you looking for me?” JD asked, his eyes wide behind his glasses.
“Well, he’s your brother, isn’t he? The babysitting billionaire who chose Zachary’s Manny?”
JD had just taken a sip of his water when he started to choke. “Man— Yeah. Did something happen with the, um, Manny? If so, my brother’s name is Joey and yes, he’s the one to blame for that. But he’s not quite a billionaire yet.”
“I love that Manny.”
“It was my idea to hire him,” JD said in such a swift turnaround Fiona had to laugh.
It really had been JD’s idea, but Joey had personally taken charge of picking the right person to care for Noah’s little boy after JD made the call. He’d even flown his employee out free of charge and paid him six months in advance.
“You told me the guy was the best he had, didn’t you?” Fiona asked. “Multiple degrees in early childhood education, nutrition and psychology. Unflappable demeanor.”
JD nodded. “Joey really liked Wyatt and Noah when he came down last time, and since our other brother Royal got together with one of the Wayne women, he feels like we’re all family. He wanted to do what he could to help with Zach.”
Tasha beamed at him and Fiona pushed her hair behind her ears, suddenly missing her colorful hair for the boost of confidence it usually provided. Natasha had the kind of confidence that all women aspired to. She owned her curves, her lifestyle choices and motherhood with the same fearless and unapologetic enjoyment. She refused to compromise w
ho she was, and her husband was smart enough not to ask her to.
She would have already told them the truth.
Would she, though? Fiona had heard something about her initially keeping a similar secret, but she knew the situation had been totally different. Tasha had been trying to protect the family.
Fiona’s hesitation wasn’t that altruistic.
“God, that’s sweet,” Tasha sighed. “So’s that man he picked to look after Zach. He’s sweet, too. And beautiful, and he was teaching Zach how to speak Korean. The child is three and he’s already picked up a few phrases. Meanwhile, my little angels are duct-taping pillows to their butts so they can slide down the stairs.”
Fiona was about to respond, but Tasha started rifling through her purse. “So, JD, I’ve thinking about getting your brother’s input on the younger-children situation at Bellamy House..”
Fiona’s ears perked up. Ever since Younger and Seamus’ husband Bellamy had gotten together to extend youth center services to offer shelter and protection for children and survivors of sexual abuse, she’d been volunteering there as a therapist and helping out wherever she could. Those kids had been through hell, and she’d lived in her own version long enough to know how important it was to have someone in your corner.
“Why Joey?” JD asked.
“It just seemed like something his company might want to donate time to,” Tasha said with a shrug. “He’s got a knack for that kind of thing, and there aren’t enough qualified people able to donate enough time for all those kids, which means some are slipping through the cracks. And I thought bringing some joy to the situation might help. Did I mention how happy Zach looked when I saw him?”
“A babysitter’s club?” JD asked skeptically.
“Actually, I see what she’s saying,” Fiona piped up. “The kids might love that, and it would take some of the pressure off the volunteers who are trying to help the parents as well. It’s worth considering.”
“Thank you, Fiona.” Tasha turned an innocent eye on JD. “You know, Fiona volunteers at Bellamy House. But I don’t believe I’ve seen your name on the volunteer roster.”
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