by Mari Carr
“Dick,” Miguel joked, though there was no heat behind the word. “I see where I stand. You think you’d have a little sympathy. Your dad’s kicking my ass around here, breathing down my neck to crack this case.”
“No leads?”
“No. And it’s seriously pissing me off. I’m starting to take this shit personal.”
“You’ll get there, Miguel. You’re a great cop.”
Miguel sounded tired, though grateful when he said, “Thanks, man. I needed to hear that.”
“Once work settles down for both of us, we’ll grab tickets to a Ravens game, okay?”
“That sounds good. Talk to you later.”
“Later.” Finn disconnected the call. “He’s still at work,” he said to Pop Pop.
“And where is your girlfriend tonight? Getting used to seeing the two of you together.”
Finn grinned. “She’s not my girlfriend, Pop Pop. Just a friend.”
His grandfather had this sixth sense that always seemed to allow him to hear more than what was being said. “But you’d like for her to be a girlfriend?”
“I don’t have time to date anyone even if I did. Fergus and I are burning the candle at both ends trying to get the security firm off the ground. I haven’t had dinner before eight o’clock a single night this week.”
“That didn’t really answer my question, did it?”
“Pop Pop—”
Mom walked up to them before his grandfather could push the subject. “There’re two of my favorite guys. Hey, Pop. Did you forget about the pumpkin pie I promised you for dessert? You still want a slice?”
Pop Pop’s eyes lit up. “Well, merciful heaven, I did indeed forget. Of course, I want it.”
“How about you, Finn?”
Finn shook his head. “Doesn’t really go with the Guinness.”
Pop Pop gave him a scandalized look. “Son, everything goes with Guinness. Now if you’ll excuse me just a second, your mother never puts enough whipped cream on the pie. She’s stingy.”
Pop Pop hopped off the stool as Mom shook her head, chastising him. “I’d like you to taste the damn pie, Pop.”
“Language, Riley.”
Mom ignored him, still complaining about his disrespect for her pie as Pop Pop followed her back to the kitchen. Finn knew exactly who was going to win that argument.
Poor Mom.
Padraig came over and leaned on the counter.
If Pop Pop was king of the hopeless romantics, Padraig was the crown prince.
“So why aren’t you asking Layla out?”
Finn rolled his eyes. “Emmy’s talent for eavesdropping is rubbing off on you.”
“He had that talent before I ever showed up,” Emmy called out from her end of the counter, never looking up from the laptop.
Padraig shook his head. “Never figure out how she can listen and write at the same time. So…Layla…”
Finn took a sip of his Guinness, leaning back in his stool. “It’s great to have LJ back. We have a lot of fun together. She’s super easy to be around and she gets my twisted sense of humor.”
“Exactly. So why aren’t you asking her out on a date instead of playing the ‘just friends’ card? No attraction?” Padraig asked.
Finn ran his hand through his hair. “Attraction is off the charts. I want to be with her. Bad.”
Padraig straightened up and refilled Emmy’s wineglass, even though she hadn’t asked him to. She smiled her thanks before Padraig came back to him. “So this all feels like a no-brainer. Never known you not to go for it with a woman you like.”
“It’s not that simple. LJ just got out of a long relationship and she’s not looking for another.”
Padraig chuckled. “Didn’t think that’s what you were looking for either.”
“She keeps saying she wants to explore her wild side. Which to her means casual hookups, one-night stands.”
“Sounds right up your alley.”
Finn couldn’t call Padraig to task for his comment because he wasn’t wrong. “I can’t…I mean, with LJ, I’d want…”
“Holy shit,” Padraig said when Finn couldn’t finish. “You like her. You really like her! And you don’t want to sow those wild oats with her because you’re afraid she’ll move on to the next guy after you’re done.”
Finn didn’t answer. The more he thought about Layla, the more he wanted to be with her. And not just for one night. He’d never thought much about love at first sight because it sounded dumb, but something between him and Layla clicked. It was only the second time in his life he’d ever felt such a strong, instant connection.
And he wasn’t letting himself consider the first time.
“I don’t know what to do.”
“That’s simple,” Padraig said. “Change her mind.”
“That’s simple?”
“You’re a good guy, Finn. A catch. Just dial up the Collins charm and show Layla what she’s missing out on. The fact she was in a long relationship tells me she’s definitely looking for love, even if she doesn’t believe it at the moment.”
Finn considered that, the idea growing on him.
“And you might as well give into the dark side, cuz. The curse is real and it’s found its next victim.”
“Curse?” Pop Pop said, carrying a plate of whipped cream that Finn could only assume had a piece of pie underneath.
“It’s not the curse,” Finn said under his breath, hoping Padraig would take the hint and change the subject. The shit-eating grin on his cousin’s face proved that would not happen.
“He’s got the hots for Layla, but she’s not looking for a relationship,” Padraig explained, dropping that bomb and then excusing himself to check on the other patrons.
Pop Pop’s eyes lit up. “So you’re really interested in this young woman?”
“We’ve only gone out a half-dozen times, Pop Pop. As friends.”
“I fell in love with Grandma Sunday the first night we met. The heart is always the first to know. It takes the head a lot longer to catch up.”
“She’s not looking for a boyfriend.”
“So…you’ll convince her she is. I saw the way she looked at you the other night at dinner. She’s interested too.”
Pop Pop and Padraig really were a matched set. Then he considered Pop Pop’s comment. “You think so?”
Pop Pop nodded. “I know so. What does Miguel think of her?”
The question caught him unaware. “Um. He hasn’t met her yet.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Like I said, we’ve both been working a lot lately.”
Pop Pop put his fork down. “But surely the two of you have talked about her. What does he think about it?”
“I haven’t told him about LJ. Or, at least, not everything.”
Pop Pop pierced him with a suspicious look. “What have you told him?”
“Just that my old friend, LJ, moved back to Baltimore and we’ve been hanging out.”
“It seems to me this is the sort of thing you’d talk to your best friend about. Unless…there’s something else holding you back?”
“There’s nothing holding me back,” he lied.
“Nothing?” It was a pointed question, and the expression on Pop Pop’s face proved he knew Finn wasn’t being honest.
Finn rubbed his forehead wearily. “If you have something to say, Pop Pop, you can just say it. I won’t freak out.”
“Of course you will. Otherwise, you would have told Miguel about this woman. But to do that would be to admit that you don’t share his feelings for you.”
Leave it to Pop Pop to be the first to so boldly say what Finn was pretty sure everyone else in his family suspected as well. He’d seen the sideways glances his cousins had given him the night of the bachelor party. If they’d noticed, it was a given the rest of the family knew because if there was one thing that didn’t exist in the Collins family, it was secrets.
“Sometimes I think you’re Finn in that story you used to tell
me when I was a kid. The one about my namesake. Are you sure you didn’t eat the Salmon of Knowledge?”
Pop Pop chuckled. “There’s a difference between knowledge and just paying attention. You know that boy is in love with you, right?”
Finn winced. To hear it spoken so clearly really fucked with his current pattern of avoidance. “But I’m not gay, Pop Pop. I like women. No, I love women.”
“I’m not entirely sure this is a question of being gay or straight. Do you love Miguel?”
Finn didn’t hesitate to answer. “Of course I do. He’s my best friend.”
“And this Layla? You think you could love her too? And don’t tell me it’s only been a few weeks again. We’ve already covered that ground.”
“I think I could. Yeah.”
“I see.”
Finn waited for Pop Pop to say something more, but instead, the older man picked up his fork and started eating his pie. After a few minutes, it became clear he didn’t intend to say anything else.
“So…you’re not going to lay any knowledge on me? No advice?”
Pop Pop smiled and patted his hand. “Only you know the truth of what’s written on your heart. Until you’re ready to read those words, I’m afraid you’re going to be stuck in the dark. In the meantime, maybe you should head back to the kitchen and ask your mother to make you some salmon. It couldn’t hurt.”
Chapter Four
Layla grinned as Finn walked into her office at the coffee shop. She was trying to pay some bills before the lunch rush started.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he said, giving her a quick hug as she stood from her desk.
She tried to covertly sniff his shirt, loving the way Finn smelled…like coffee—her favorite smell on the planet—and soap. “What’s up, buttercup? Haven’t seen you in ages.”
It had been over a week since she and Finn had gone out to dinner and had their “come to Jesus” meeting about where they both stood in their lives in terms of relationships.
“Fergus has been kicking my ass. This working-for-a-living gig sucks.”
She laughed, fully aware his protest meant nothing. Finn had found his calling, and he loved what he did. He’d brought Fergus over for coffee a couple of times, and it was obvious that while they approached the business from different angles—Fergus super serious, no-nonsense, where Finn was laid-back—they were both fully committed to making it successful, especially considering the long hours they’d been putting in lately.
“Tell me about it. What do you say we both play hooky like we did in fourth grade? Just go out for recess, then hide in the playhouse when everyone else goes back inside.”
“Jesus. I’d forgotten about that. Not that we managed to steal that much extra playtime. Mrs. Arnold realized we were gone the second everyone returned to their desks and ours were empty.”
“It didn’t help that Landon was looking out the window nervously and tipped her off to where we were hiding.”
Finn took a sip of the coffee he must have bought before coming to seek her out. “And yet he had the nerve to brag that he hadn’t snitched.”
“He was an amateur when it came to being bad.” Layla took a sip from her own cup and winced. It had gone cold. She’d have to refill it later. Finn noticed her look and handed over his cup. She took a sip, then gave it back. They’d managed more than a few coffee breaks together over the past few weeks and realized they both liked their coffee strong enough to walk around on its own.
“Landon still is. Ever the Boy Scout. Only now he does his good deeds in a police uniform.”
“Have to say, I’m not surprised by his chosen profession. Could have called that back in elementary school. Remember the day your dad came to class for Career Day? Landon followed your dad around everywhere, asking him a million questions.”
Finn chuckled. “I remember. I think Dad kept hoping some of Landon’s enthusiasm for his job would rub off on me. Can you imagine? Me as a cop?”
“Baltimore would never be the same.”
“Listen. I’m afraid I don’t have long. Just wanted to stop in and say goodbye. Fergus and I met at the office to pick up some things before heading to the airport.”
“Oh crap. That’s right. I forgot about your security conference.”
“A whole week in Vegas, baby. I’ve been living for this.”
Layla narrowed her eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to be going to classes and learning stuff?” Layla might not know Fergus well, but she was pretty sure he was going to take the conference seriously.
Finn shrugged. “All work and no play. Want me to throw a quarter or two in the slot machine for you?”
She reached into a change jar on her desk and pulled out fifty cents. “Of course I do. I’m going to miss you. Who’s going to watch the Ravens game with me Thursday night?”
She’d gotten used to having Finn around to go out for dinner or to hang out at her place, watching a movie on TV.
“Just go over to the Collins Dorm. There’s always someone watching the game there. They’d love to have you join them. Especially if you take some chips and a twelve-pack of Natty Boh.”
“I might just do that.”
Finn stood up. “Well. I really do need to head back to the office. I’ll be back in town next Monday. You have a good week.”
“I will.”
“And…” He paused, and Layla got the impression he was debating something with himself.
“And?” she prompted.
Finn didn’t say anything more. Instead, he took a step closer and cupped her face in his hands in true Hollywood romance style—and kissed her.
Layla didn’t bother to resist.
Why the hell would she? She’d been dreaming of this since the first time she’d seen him again.
She parted her lips, allowing Finn’s tongue in to touch hers, then she reached for the front of his shirt, gripping it, simply for something to hold on to as Finn gave her the single hottest kiss of her life.
She’d been right. She had been missing out. Big-time.
Finn deepened the kiss, his hands drifting to her hair. He wrapped thick strands around his fingers and tugged, her scalp stinging, the pain translating to arousal as her nipples tightened and her pussy clenched.
Finn kissed her like his life depended on it. And Layla gave herself fully to the kiss, enjoying every stroke of his tongue and fingers and—
Finn broke the kiss, pulling away a few inches. He didn’t let go of her hair. “When I get back, you and I are going to have a long talk about this wild side of yours.”
“Um. Okay,” she whispered stupidly.
Finn gave her another brief, hard kiss…and then he was gone.
Layla stood by her desk for a full five minutes, trying to wrap her head around that kiss and Finn’s words.
Her wild side. He wanted to talk about her wild side.
What the fuck did that mean?
They’d agreed what just happened between them couldn’t happen. But it did. And sweet Jesus, had it shaken her to her core. She’d been kissed in her life…by a lot of frogs.
That kiss…Finn’s kiss…her head was still reeling.
Unfortunately, it changed nothing. Right?
She wasn’t looking for a relationship and Finn was. The fact that his kiss had blown her socks off, and she was currently in danger of spontaneously combusting notwithstanding, she couldn’t act on her more visceral needs.
Not without losing Finn as a friend.
God help her. The next week was going to take forever to pass.
But was that a good thing or a bad thing?
* * *
The rest of the day dragged, but that was pretty much the standard operating procedure for Mondays. She’d intended to leave at five, but one of her employees was a no-show, while the other got sick. She hadn’t been able to find anyone else to come in on such short notice, so she’d spent the last three hours working alone…on a slow night…and watching the clock. Which wasn’t moving.
/> The last customers left, so she started cleaning up, ready to knock off a few minutes early. After all, she was the boss and she was exhausted after pulling a twelve-hour day.
Layla had just locked the front door and was halfway back to the counter, when someone walked out of the kitchen.
It took her a second to understand what she was seeing.
And when she did…panic set in.
Someone in a Pennywise mask stepped into the shop. That was scary enough. Until Layla saw the gun in his hand.
How the fuck had he gotten in? She kept the kitchen door locked.
“Keep your mouth shut and you won’t get hurt.” The man’s deep voice was muffled slightly by the mask.
Layla struggled to catch her breath, light-headed with fear. “What do you want?”
She glanced toward the street, praying someone walking by would look in. Would see the man with the gun. Would call the cops.
Pennywise, however, was quick to take away that possibility, switching the lights off, effectively hiding what was happening inside the shop. The streetlamps outside cast shadows across the room. It wasn’t pitch-black, but it was dim enough that she had to strain to see the gun-wielding clown.
He walked toward her as she steadily backed away. If she could just make it back to the door…
There was no way she could unlock it and run before he reached her.
“Please. Wait.” She lifted her hands in a sign of surrender.
Layla never saw the man’s hand move. Didn’t realize he’d swung it upwards until the back of it landed hard on her left cheek, knocking her head back roughly enough that she saw stars.
Pain and white lights flashed behind her eyes, blinding her temporarily. Just long enough for Pennywise to grab the back of her head and shove her toward the cash register. He pushed her hard, and if he hadn’t had a painful grip on her hair, she would have tripped, would have fallen.
He produced a bag and thrust it into her hands. “Open the register, bitch. Put all the money in that bag.”
The task took longer than it normally would have, as her hands began trembling violently. She shoved the money in the bag, praying that was all he wanted. That he wouldn’t shoot her once he’d gotten the money.
