Page 63 of Feel Me

“Oh,” I say, grimacing.

“Yeah,” he says, laughing. “Poor bastard.”

He trains his stare ahead and away from me. I start to think that maybe he needs this time alone. But I can’t return inside just yet. I sink into the cushions. They’re cold, but it feels good against my back after all the running around we did in kitchen.

I quiet, closing my eyes and taking a moment to rest my battered senses. Fiona tucks her little body closer, I think she’s falling asleep, but I can’t be sure.

“Are you on call today?” Finn asks, his breath visible in the frigid air.

“No,” I tell him. “I have someone else covering for me.”

“Good,” he says. “You probably need a break from it all.”

The way he responds make me think he’s talking about him as much as me. “How are you doing?” I ask.

He offers a small smile. “Better. A lot better.”

“I’m glad,” I tell him. “I haven’t seen you in a while, and you haven’t called.”

“Sorry,” he says.

“Don’t be,” I assure him. “You don’t need me as much. That’s a good thing. But I’m always here if you do.”

“Does Declan know about all those times we talked?”

I shake my head. “Only if you told him.”

“Nah. I haven’t said shit. When everything that happened, happened, I needed them to know I was okay.” He huffs. “Even though I wasn’t, I needed them to believe I’d still get there.”

“And you did,” I agree, smoothing my hand along Fiona’s back.

“I had help.” He nudges me. “Lots of it. Don’t know where I’d be without it.”

God, he looks so much like Declan, only younger, and instead of blond hair, ginger curls top his head.

“How are you and Sol?”

His big smile is enough of an answer. “She’s the best,” he tells me. His smile fades. “She’s visiting her mom and says she’ll be here. But it’s hard for her when she goes and sometimes needs a little time to recover.”

His voice trails as he looks out to the large expanse of Curran and Tess’s front lawn. I don’t see or hear anything, but I can tell Finn picked up on something. He rises, moving fast and toward the front door.

The noise inside explodes like grenade when he throws the door open. “Hey, Wren,Wren! Evan’s here.”

I stand with Fiona as Finn backs away and Wren races through the threshold. “I swear to Christ, Finnie, if you’re messing with me, I’m going to beat your ass.”

Her words cut off as a tall man with dark wavy hair about Declan’s age steps near the bottom of the steps and into the light, smiling. He releases the handle to his suitcase and drops the heavy briefcase at his feet. “Hello, love,” he tells her in a British accent.

Wren launches herself forward. The force she uses to straddle him should knock him to the ground. He hangs tight, welcoming her embrace and one hell of a kiss.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, pulling only slightly away.

He carries her up the stairs as if she’s nothing yet smiles like she’s everything. “I didn’t want to miss our first Thanksgiving together.” He eases her down slowly, clasping Finn’s hand when he hurries up with his bags. “Thank you, Finn,” he tells him, keeping his other arm secure around Wren.

“Hey, thanks for showing,” Finn replies. He tosses the bags just inside the foyer. “This is Melissa, Deck’s woman,” he says, motioning to me.

Ordinarily the introduction as Declan’s “woman” would make me gush. Not today. “Hello, Evan,” I say, politely.

“Pleasure,” he says, shaking my hand. He’s pleasant, but it’s as if he can’t wait to return to Wren.

---