Page 10 of It's Holy Matrimony, Baby

“Dean says you have a date.” Finn stands at ease in my kitchen, a bottle of pale ale in one hand. His tie hangs loosely from the collar of his shirt and undone gray jacket. Christ, he looks much older than his years recently. Exhausted.

“Dean’s full of shit.” I cinch the towel around my hips and run my hand through my hair, messing it. Not going to any effort for a legal practicality. Hell, I could cancel, and she could still deal with the issue. Don’t plan on cancelling though. Haven’t got her phone number, and she’s waiting for me.

“Yes, our brother does have a mouth on him. Can’t say it’s a surprise though.”

“Not when he’s related to you.” I drag my fingers over my trimmed jaw. Not quite clean, but not the beard it was earlier either.

“Go fuck yourself.” He laughs.

Two fat paws thud on the counter and then two more as my Maine Coon sits himself down in short reach of Finn’s hand.

“Hollander, you beast,” Finn says with affection in his voice. A heavy purr fills the room as he scratches under the fat brown tabby’s mane.

“Who is this girl that deserves to see my brother at his best?” He wrinkles his nose. “Well, perhaps not your best. Looks more like a half-assed attempt to me.”

“Nunya.”

“I don’t think I know...ah, I see what you did. Very funny.” He knocks back about a third of the bottle in one mouthful. “Don’t want to tell me, fine. Can’t say I actually care.”

“Then what are you doing here?” I continue toward the bedroom. Has to be almost nine by now. Time to get dressed and head over to the hotel.

“Jack has a girl over.” Another third of the amber liquid disappears. “A blonde number, all legs and boobs. She’s showing skin and cozying up to our brother. Did you know he liked girls?”

“Of course he does.” I glower at Finn.

“I assumed,” he agrees. “It wouldn’t matter if he didn’t.”

“Point?” I ask.

Still holding onto his beer, he rests it on the counter. “I’ve never seen him with one.”

“Well, now you have.”

“Right. I figured I’d clear out and let them have some space. And Dean said you were meeting some chick, so I thought...” He scrubs a hand over his face, managing to look even more tired. “I really need some uninterrupted sleep.”

He’s working two jobs, or is it three? Just like me. I can’t keep shit straight anymore, but he’s the one who seems to be wearing thin. Probably because until three months ago he was supporting our youngest brother too. Wasn’t my choice for him to move back here, or throw his lot in with me, even if I do appreciate it. Tried to talk him out of it, but never was much good at talking Finn out of looking after people. Giving him the cabin for the night so he can get some real rest is the least I can do. I’ll find somewhere else to sleep tonight. Crash at Dean’s, or pull up a piece of patio furniture in the shed. “The cabin is yours for the night.”

“Thanks, man.”

“I’m going to get dressed.” I walk into the single bedroom.

“Wouldn’t want to keep your woman friend waiting,” he taunts.

“Make yourself useful, will you, and feed Hollander.” I shut the door and rifle through the top draw of my armoire. Red alder and cast iron. The blind dovetail joins had been particularly hard to get right back then, but it’s still my favorite piece. Well, that and the guitars dad and I crafted together before he died. I don’t know what he’d make of these past couple years. Or this situation with Beck.

Dropping the towel, I pull on boxer briefs and a T-shirt without holes before reaching for a pair of pants. Probably should wear something neat and not too casual. Nope, this isn’t a date. It’s a lucky jeans kind of situation. I unfold the soft worn denim and drag them on. These jeans have gotten me through some of the most intense moments of my life. Kind of feels right to wear them tonight.

Finn knocks on the door as he shoves it wide open.

“Your phone rang, I answered.” He shrugs unapologetically. “You want to take this.”

I take my phone from him. Jack’s number is on the screen. Can’t see why Finn didn’t take a message from our youngest brother. “What’s going on?”

A woman’s voice surprises me. “Nox Casey? It’s Olivia Houghton. We met this afternoon. You married my friend two years ago.”

“I remember,” I answer. Like I could forget.

Finn’s face gets long, his brows shooting up while his jaw drops. “You’re m—”

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