Page 37 of Can't Get Over You
But the boy pulled away, staring at the big, imposing house. “Do I have to go in there?”
“Only if you want to,” a deep voice called.
Standing on the porch, a strikingly handsome silver fox leaned against the doorway with a steaming mug of coffee. He stood idly, like he didn’t have a care in the world. At the same time, Finlay, who’d grown adept at reading people, thanks toparents who viewed her as a burden and a group of friends who’d dropped her, noticed his watchful gaze.
“Dad.” Jude’s pace quickened, and he loped up the porch stairs.
“Jude.” The muscular man pushed off the frame, set his mug down on a table, and drew his son in for a bear hug. “Long time.”
“Too long,” Jude said.
Watching these two big men cling to each other so forcefully made her wonder why Jude had stayed away so long.She knew why he’d left, of course. But why—when he had a dad and three brothers—hadn’t he ever come back?
“Glad you’ll stay for Christmas.” His dad’s voice was gruff.
Jude stepped back to include her and the boy. “Dad, this is Finlay O’Neill.”
“The runaway bride. I know.” He reached for her hand. “Gunnar McKenna.”
He might as well have lobbed a potato at her head. “It happened anhourago. How did you find out?”
“My son Boone knows the wedding photographer.” Gunnar ushered everyone inside. “Come on. Let’s get you all set up. Wasn’t sure how many rooms you’d need.”
“Oh, I’m not staying.” In the entryway of this home, standing beside Jude and his father, she finally snapped out of it. This man did not need to take on her problems. “If I can borrow your phone again, I’ll call my mom or dad.” An inner voice shouted down that idea. Neither was her go-to person. “Or Willa.”Yes, her. “She’ll come get me.” Her mind was spinning. Her chest went tight, making it hard to breathe.
Why was she so resistant to talking to anyone?
“How ’bout you come sit by the fire and warm up?” Gunnar asked. “You hungry? I have cookies in the oven, and I’m just about to put a roast in. Just waiting on Wyatt to get here with a bottle of red wine.”
“Sounds good,” Jude said. “I’m starving.”
Reality crashed over her. “I didn’t even think…I’m so sorry for intruding.”
“What’re you talking about?” Jude asked. He truly didn’t get it.
“It’s your welcome home dinner,” she said.
“Yeah, well, now we’re welcoming a kid and a runaway bride.” Jude set his hand on her lower back and led her deeper into the room.
The house was warm and inviting with the scents of melted butter, cinnamon, and pine. Cody stayed glued to her side as they headed for the hearth. The moment she sat down, he crawled onto her lap.
Placing a hand on each of her knees to balance himself, Jude squatted. “You can stay here as long as you want. If you want to stay overnight, we can get you some clothes, a toothbrush, and whatever else you need. You call the shots.”
“Got plenty of bedrooms,” Gunnar said. “And no one’s going to get in your business.” He glanced down at the boy. “Now, you must be Cody.”
Cody squirmed. “I’m here to get a bike.”
“Is that right?” Gunnar stood. “Well, you’re in luck. I’ve got a whole garage full of ’em.”
“Can I see?” the little boy asked.
“You sure can. Which do you want first? A cookie or the bike?”
“The bike, please.” But the little boy didn’t budge.
“You got it. Come on.” Gunnar waved him over. “They’re in the garage.”
Cody looked up at her, uncertainty in his eyes.
