another muffin, chocolate chip by the looks of it. “Sean’s toast at the pub upset you,” she said.
Sitting across from her at her table, with Thor in his lap while he worked his way through a most excellent blueberry/banana muffin, he didn’t want to get into Sean’s toast. He much preferred to get into whatever had happened to her. But he knew that she wasn’t going to open up.
Unless he did.
Problem was, he hated opening up. To anyone.
“I’m sorry your dad never got to see the bar and what a success you made of it,” she said quietly.
He put his muffin down. “My dad couldn’t have cared less what we did with ourselves when we were kids. He wouldn’t care what we do now either.”
“But Sean said—”
“Sean’s so full of shit that his eyes are brown,” he said. “My dad never had a pub. Hell, he never even acknowledged he was Irish. My brother perpetuates the lie because he thinks Irish pubs do well and he isn’t wrong. We have done well but it isn’t because we’re Irish, it’s because we work our asses off.”
“You mean you work your ass off,” she said.
He met her knowing gaze. “I just hate the fraud.”
“It’s not a fraud if it’s true, even a little bit.” Reaching across the table, she covered her hand with his. “Stop feeling guilty about something that isn’t your fault and isn’t hurting anyone. Let it go and enjoy the success you’ve made of the place, in spite of your father.”
He stared at her. “How is it that you’re cute, sexy as hell, and smarter than anyone I know?”
She gave him a small smile. “It’s a gift.”
Leaning over the table, he wrapped his fingers around her wrist and pulled the bag of corn from her face. Gently he touched her cheekbone. “You okay?”
“I will be.”
Her resilience made him smile. “Yeah?” he asked. “And how’s that?”
She shrugged a shoulder. “Well, it’s raining, and I love the rain. Someone sent me a basket of muffins, and I love muffins. Thor is actually clean and going to stay that way for at least the next few minutes. I don’t have to work until midday tomorrow. And I have company.” She smiled. “The good kind.” She lifted a shoulder. “It’s all good.”
She was aiming for light and she’d succeeded. It was how she dealt, he got that. And he was getting something else too—that he could learn a hell of a lot from her.
She rose from her chair and came around the table. She lifted Thor from his lap and set the dog down. Then she climbed into Finn’s lap herself and cupped his face.
His arms closed around her and one thought settled into his brain. This feels right.
She feels right.
Chapter 21
#UpShitCreekWithoutAPaddle
Pru lifted her gaze to Finn’s, startled by the sudden intensity in his gaze. It said she wasn’t alone, that she mattered, a lot.
At least you’re not the only one falling . . .
This thought was a cool tall drink of relief immediately followed by a chaser of anxiety.
Because she hadn’t meant for this to happen. She hadn’t meant for any of it; his attention, his affection, his emotional bond . . . and all of it was a secret dream come true for her.
Just as all of it was now a nightmare as well, because how was she supposed to give it up? Give him up?
Although the tough truth was, she wouldn’t have to. Telling him the truth would accomplish that because he would give her up once she did.
She’d known they’d be getting to this. She hadn’t missed him looking at her cheek, or the temper that flashed in his eyes whenever he did. “It’s—”
“Not nothing. Don’t even think about saying it’s nothing.” His voice was gentle but inexorable steel.
“My grandfather’s in a senior home,” she said. “Has been for years. I visit him every week but he doesn’t always recognize me.”
“He hit you?” he asked, his voice still calm, his gaze anything but.
“No.” She shook her head. “Well, not exactly.”
“Then what exactly?”
“He was trying to get me to leave,” she said. “He threw the stuff on his lunch tray at me.”
His brow furrowed. “What the fuck?”
“It’s that sometimes he thinks I’m my mom,” she said. “He didn’t like her.”
Finn’s fingers slid into her hair, soothing, protective, and she felt herself relax a little into his touch.
“Why not?” he asked quietly.
“She . . .” Pru closed her eyes and pressed her face to his throat. “She was a good-time girl.