“Or not,” Simon said slowly. “They could get along great, Luke. And even if they don’t, what does it matter?” Luke started to shake his head and Simon raised a finger. “Hear me out for a second. Let’s say you’re right and Ella and Finn can’t stand each other. Does that mean you and Finn can’t keep dating? You’re a grown man, and I’d say you’re allowed to go on dates without your niece’s approval.”
Luke groaned. “I know. But Ella’s important to me. It would feel weird to always exclude her if I spent time with Finn and vice versa.”
Simon’s expression softened. “Man, you’re such a big softie. It makes me want to kick you right in the ass.”
“That’s because you have the emotional range of a sock puppet,” Gillian muttered.
Simon shot her a withering glare. “Anyway, you’re a pretty good judge of character, Luke.”
“Okay.” Luke uttered a laugh. “What’s your point?”
“You’re freaking out right now that you’ll lose Finn’s interest after he sees how much kid stuff you have to do with Ella.” Simon shrugged. “Introducing them is the best way to get a solid idea of what kind of guy he really is.”
* * * *
That evening, Ella came to the dinner table wearing blue Starfleet Academy pajamas and pink and black paper flowers in her hair. Luke smiled at the crown she’d made herself. He and Ella had worked diligently on her braids, and he enjoyed the touch of whimsy.
“What’s the occasion?” he asked.
“You made Sloppy Joes.” Ella executed a smart little twirl and took her seat. “You know how much I like them.”
“I like that you tell me that every time I make them.” Luke glanced down at himself after he’d sat down. “But now I feel slightly underdressed.”
Without missing a beat, Ella peeled a big pink blossom off the end of one braid. Luke leaned forward so she could thread the wire stem behind his left ear, and when he sat back, decorated and grinning, she laughed. They spent a minute taking photos of each other with Luke’s phone, then tucked into their meal.
“I have a joke for you,” Ella said after Luke bit into his sandwich. “How did the cow blend into his surroundings?”
Luke chewed and thought for a minute before he answered. “Cam-moo-flage?” Ella held up a hand for a high-five and Luke smirked.
“Your dad emailed me this morning,” he said after they’d smacked palms. “He says he can do a video chat on Sunday.”
“Awesome!” Ella pumped her fist. “I can show him how much progress we’ve made building the Millennium Falcon.” She and her dad shared a passion for complicated LEGO models, and neither hesitated to drag Luke into their projects.
“Just don’t tell him I dropped it last week and we had to rebuild half of the hull,” he said. “Also, I ate lunch with Finn today.”
Ella’s eyes went wide. “Again?! Damn, son.”
“Dude, language. C’mon.”
She winced. “Sorry. I couldn’t help it. You guys have been having lunch a lot.”
“Does that bother you?” Luke bit off some more sandwich and chewed.
Ella worked on her food for a couple of beats while his insides twisted. “It’s sorta weird. You’ve never had a boyfriend since I’ve lived with you.”
Luke choked and reached for his glass of iced tea. Ella watched him, her eyebrows slowly creeping upward as he flailed.
“Finn’s not my boyfriend,” he rasped out. “I have dated a few guys since you moved in, though.”
“Yeah, but I never met them.” Ella hummed thoughtfully. “How come?”
“Things didn’t get serious with any of them.” Luke shrugged. That was truthful enough without dragging too many details into it. “I didn’t see the point of letting someone get to know you or your dad unless I considered them a boyfriend and not just someone to hang out with.”
“So you’d sort of be in love already?” Ella suggested.
Luke silently thanked the universe she hadn’t caught him with food or drink in his mouth a second time. “Well, it’s not that I’d be ‘in love,’ as much as ‘really like,’” he hedged. “I’ve never been an insta-love kind of person.”
“Okay. What about Finn? You want him to be your boyfriend?”
“Um. I can’t answer that.” Luke smiled at Ella’s eye-roll. “Finn and I are still getting to know each other, honey. I want more of that. He’s a nice guy and funny, and super smart, too. I like that. Makes him interesting and easy to talk to.”
“Not to mention you told Simon he’s ‘cute as hell.’”
Luke put a hand over his eyes. “Yes, I did, but please don’t repeat that.”
“Okay, fine.” Ella worked on her potato salad for a moment. “So what happens if Finn is your boyfriend?” she asked then. “Like, you’d go out on dates, right? And he’d come over?”
Luke nodded. “Sure. We’d spend more time together and get to know each other’s friends and families. Finn asked me to have dinner at his place, actually.”
Ella’s face went deadly serious. “You mean for tomorrow?”
“No, on Saturday.” Luke stared, mystified by the change in her demeanor before the penny dropped. Oh. “I’m having dinner with you tomorrow, El, like always. Finn already knows you and I have dinner plans every Friday.”
Ella gave Luke a lopsided smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Her posture relaxed, though. “Okay, cool.”
They fell silent again and Luke debated asking what had just happened. Why would Ella assume he’d blow her off for a guy? He’d never canceled their plans before unless he’d been out of town.
Luke recalled Simon’s earlier words and his heart sank. This was all new territory for Ella. She really had gotten used to having Luke all to herself. That was already changing with Finn in the picture, and for someone like Ella, it had to loom large. She’d experienced more than her fair share of change after her mother had taken off and her father had moved Ella over four hundred miles—should it surprise Luke that she might be leery of someone new in his life?
He wiped his fingers on his napkin. “Hey, El?”
“Yeah?”
“You know you can ask me anything, right?”
Ella eyed him warily. “Sure, I know.”
“Good.” Luke smiled at her. “Do you have any other questions for me about Finn?”
Ella cut her gaze to the side, her face tense. “Does he know about me?” she asked, her focus back on Luke.
“Of course. I told him all about you, and your dad too.”
“Do you want me to meet him?”
“Sometime, yes. I think that’s a while off, though, while Finn and I figure each other out. What do you think?”
Ella stared at her plate for what seemed to Luke to be a very long time. “Sure, I guess,” she said at last. “But can I think about it some more?”
The apprehension in her face when she met Luke’s eyes made his chest tighten. Gillian was right—Ella didn’t want to tell Luke no.
“Of course you can, love,” he said. “You take all the time you need.”
The corners of Ella’s lips pulled up. “Thanks. Have Simon and Gillian met him?”
“Not yet. But not for lack of trying.” Luke forced a chuckle. “Simon tried to crash my lunch with Finn today. He doesn’t know I know about it, though.”
Ella grinned. “What did he do?”
“He asked me where Finn and I were having lunch and I gave him a name for the wrong restaurant. Simon walked right past the window where Finn and I were eating, but he was so focused on all his sneaking around, he didn’t see us.”
Ella tipped her head back and laughed and that clear, carefree sound did wonders to loosen the knot in Luke’s chest.
I can do this, he told himself. Dating and unclehood? No problem.
Chapter Eight
The unlikely aroma combination of fresh paint and hot pizza teased Finn’s sense of smell as he stared at his surroundings. It was nearing ten in the evening and he’
d worked an eight-hour shift before coming back to Primus Avenue to paint and move furniture. Despite being sweaty and splattered with color, he hardly noticed his fatigue. He had a dinner date with a handsome man in just under forty-eight hours and he felt fucking great.
“Place looks good,” Mick drawled. He joined Finn at the kitchen counter.
“It does.” Finn shot a smile at his big, rusty-haired friend. “Thanks for this.”
Mick shrugged. “Thanks for being an easy client. It’s rare someone hires me, turns over half a dozen pieces of furniture, and tells me to make up the rest as I go along.”
“We both know I had no choice.” Finn laughed. “My schedule doesn’t exactly make it easy to go furniture shopping. Besides, I’m hopeless when it comes to paint colors.”
“That’s why you hire guys like me,” Mick replied. “Working on this place was a pleasure. I love these old buildings despite the fact it’s hell getting trucks up here.”
A sudden burst of cursing echoed along the hallway outside the kitchen, followed by a mix of laughter and jeers. Finn hid a smile. Paul had been in rare form all night.
“Is he still bitching about the paint in his hair?” Finn asked Mick.
“Oh, yes. He’s beyond pissed no one mentioned it until after it dried.”
“It’s not like it won’t comb out.”
Mick chuckled. “I think he cares less about the paint and more about the fact we’ve been calling him Cruella De Vil for the last two hours.”
Finn snorted with laughter. “Food and beer in the kitchen, guys!” he called out to the crew.
Within seconds, Jude, Franco and Alec were swarming the table and cracking jokes while they gossiped about celebrity news. Finn didn’t know what favors Mick had promised these men for helping Finn set up house, but at this point, he didn’t care—the apartment looked far too nice to worry about incidentals.
“Where’s Paul?” he asked.
“He went out for a sulk,” Franco replied, his eyes bright with mirth.
Mick grunted. “That’s not good.”
“He’ll be back soon,” Alec said around a mouthful of pizza. “His stomach was grumbling so loudly I could hear it over the bitching.”
Finn smiled. He’d met Mick’s coworkers Jude and Franco before, but Alec was a new face. He was a tattoo artist who knew the others through a local softball league and had ties to Mick’s favorite South End bar.
Mick moved to set his beer bottle down, and Finn held up a hand. “I’ll go,” he offered, and Mick nodded.
“You’d better feed the beast while you’re out there,” he said.
He stacked several pieces of pizza on a plate and popped the caps on two beers. After loading Finn up with the food and drink, Mick gave him a sunny smile and ushered him outside.
Finn found Paul seated at one of the wrought-iron tables in the courtyard, one elbow on its surface and his chin in his hand. In the low light of the gas lamps, Paul’s eyes were bleary, and Finn knew his friend probably wanted to be sleeping.
“I come in peace, bearing food and beer.” He set the plate and bottles down and took the seat across from Paul.
“Thank God,” Paul dropped the hand and sat up straighter in his chair. “I’m so hungry I think my stomach is eating itself.”
“What are you doing out here all by your lonesome?” Finn watched Paul tear into a slice. “You’ve got twenty minutes to tell me whatever’s got you in a snit, by the way.”
“What, you have office hours?”
“No—the courtyard is off limits after ten.” Finn squinted at his friend. “What’s going on? And don’t tell me this mood is about paint in your hair. Even you’re not that vain.”
“Actually, yes, I am.” Paul chuckled. “But you’re right—it’s not the paint that’s bugging me.” He sighed and drank some beer. “It’s Franco. I came out here so I could get some air and feel less like smacking his stupid, smug face.”
“Wow.” Finn sat back. “Did something happen?”
“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Paul replied. “Franco always acts like an asshole. This thing between us goes back a ways. Back to before Mick and I got married, to be specific.”
Finn frowned at the somber note in Paul’s voice. “Were Mick and Franco a thing?”
Paul nodded. “They used to fool around. Then Mick met me and we started getting serious. The thing with Franco tapered off and they settled into being co-workers.” Paul blew a breath through his nose. “Unfortunately, Franco doesn’t think I’m good for Mick and he’d be the first person to throw a party if things between us didn’t work out.”
“What’s his problem with you?” Finn helped himself to the food.
“The usual. My hours are shitty, I leave Mick alone too much, and my patients mean more to me than he does.” Paul pursed his lips. “Nothing that isn’t true to some degree.”
“Excuse me, but that last part is bullshit.” Finn met Paul’s eyes across the table. “Yes, you put your patients first, but you don’t value them more than Mick and he knows it.”
“Yeah, well. It’s not totally bullshit. When I’m working a shift, the patients are everything. The world may as well not exist outside of that ED.”
Finn hummed around his food. He understood what Paul meant. In the thick of things, the trauma rooms became their world. Focusing on anything outside of patient care felt not only unnecessary but also negligent.
“Mick gets it,” Paul said. “That doesn’t mean he’s not resentful sometimes. His life would be a lot easier if he had some office drone for a partner.”
“He’s obviously come to terms with it, though. He wouldn’t still be here if he hadn’t.”
Paul swallowed a bite of pizza. “Doesn’t make tolerating Franco easier. And he’s always around when Mick’s got a shindig and I’m up to my neck in bodily fluids that aren’t mine.”
“Ew.”
“I wish I were joking. A couple of months ago, Mick’s firm threw a party to celebrate its twenty-fifth year in business. While they were wining and dining, I was stitching up two drunk yahoos who’d been using each other as dartboards.”
Sympathy flashed over Finn at the regret in his friend’s voice. He put down his slice and rested his fingers on Paul’s forearm. “What does Mick have to say about it?”
“About my job eating my life?”
“I meant about Franco, but sure, the job, too.”
“Mick copes with the job stuff and tells me if he feels neglected so I can fix it. He thinks the thing with Franco is just me being me,” he said, his voice growing quieter.
Finn frowned. “You haven’t told him it’s more than that?”
“I can’t.” Paul chewed in silence for a moment. “They’ve been friends for almost ten years, Finn, and seen each other through a lot of shit. I can’t tell my husband to give up one of his oldest friends because the guy makes me uncomfortable.”
“Well, you don’t have to go that far.” Finn picked up his pizza again. “Mick would want to know his friend annoys you to the point of fleeing the scene, though.”
“Or I could be a big boy and deal.” Paul shrugged. “Mick’s never given me reason to believe there’s more going on than appears. I’m just not sure Franco’s on the same page.”
Before Finn could respond, Paul waved his hand. “Oh, my God, I’m whining so hard. Fuck that. And fuck Franco, too. It’s not my problem he’s a dick.”
Finn tipped back his head and laughed. “That’s much better. Remind me never to get into a heart-to-heart with you when you’re hungry.”
“Noted. Talk to me about anything else,” Paul said. “Like your date with the hot nerd.”
“Oh, God.”
“Your words, not mine.” Paul pointed his pizza slice at Finn. “Fuck, I can feel you blushing from here.”
“I never called him a nerd. Hot, yes, but not a nerd.”
“You are made of lies, my friend. You totally did. Which makes me want to meet him even more.”
<
br /> Finn narrowed his eyes at Paul. “Don’t make me regret telling you about him.”
“As if you could stop yourself,” Paul scoffed. “All we’ve heard for the past week and a half is Luke, Luke, Luke, and now you’re having him over for dinner. What are you feeding the big lug, anyway? A side of beef?”
“I don’t know. I’ll pick something up from a place on Charles Street once I’m awake and functioning again.”
“Make sure you buy eggs for breakfast. You know, just in case.” Paul’s leer made Finn laugh.
“I like where your perverted mind is going, but Luke won’t be staying over,” he said. “His niece is having a sleepover at their place, and he’ll need to be there at some point that night.”
“Hmm. So, the niece—are you thinking you want to meet her?” Paul asked.
Finn worried his bottom lip with his teeth. He’d wondered the same thing many times. Did he want to meet Ella?
“Sure. After Luke and I know each other a little better.” He shrugged at Paul’s dubious expression. “I know—the rules of romantic comedy dictate I be eager to meet the adorable rugrat whose shenanigans push Luke and me closer together.”
“I didn’t expect romcom levels of giddiness,” Paul said. “Slightly warmer than tepid would be okay, though.”
“I’m not tepid!” Finn replied. “But this is serious stuff. I’ve never been with a guy who had a kid.”
“The kid isn’t Luke’s kid.”
“She may as well be,” Finn said. He thought about the way Luke lit up at any mention of his niece. “From what I’ve gathered, Luke’s as much Ella’s father as any man could be with the exception of her actual biological dad. It’s all a little intimidating.”
“How so?”
“Luke owns a business and takes care of a child. No offense, but he’s more adult than you and me combined and he’s younger than we are. Who am I in the middle of all that?” Finn asked. “A guy who’s been sleeping in my friends’ guest room for months.”
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