Page 79 of Can't Get Over You
Finally, the boy smiled. “Can we have it now?”
“Yeah.” Jude’s features relaxed. “We can make some right now.”
“That pizza sure smells good,” Finlay said. “How about you guys handle the drinks, and we’ll set up for dinner?”
“Good plan.” Jude reached out a hand, and to everyone’s surprise, Cody took it. “Let’s get busy.”
Ava got to work setting the table while Jude rounded up a pan, whisk, and measuring cups. Once he had the ingredients, he brought a kitchen chair over for Cody and started on the cocoa.
“I’ll get mugs.” Just as Finlay opened the cabinet, Jude came up behind her and reached over her head.
“Here.” He grabbed a few and set them on the counter.
“Thank you.” She turned to face him, placing a hand on his chest. “That was beautiful, how you handled the nutcrackers.”
He read her expression, as if he wanted to know if she meant it.
She did. “See what happens when you’re less scary?”
“It’s not like I try to be.”
As she reached for water glasses, it all clicked into place. “Well, you know, I think you do. You were an open-hearted kid who expected to make friends, and instead, you were rejected.You didn’t know why, so you adopted this”—she made a circular motion around her face—“don’t mess with memask. And it’s worked. It’s kept people from hurting you. But maybe now, as an adult, you don’t need it anymore.”
“Fee.” He sighed.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. You don’t need to be psychoanalyzed.” She stood before him, brushing the hair off his forehead. “But I want everyone to know you the way I do. You think Mrs. Atherton hates you for what happened to her son, but I saw your expression when you came over. You looked dark and scary and mean. The message you gave her was, ‘I haven’t changed one bit, and if you mess with me, I’ll knock you on your ass.’”
“I don’t care what she thinks of me.”
“I think you do.” She reached for his big, calloused hand. “So maybe, instead of telling the world you’re a badass biker, you can let them see you’re sweet and generous and smart.” She laughed when she saw his appalled expression. “Okay, fine. But at least stop scowling. I promise, people will see you differently.”
Trampling on the stairs alerted them that the brothers and Gunnar were coming down for dinner, so she filled the water glasses while Jude helped Cody adjust the sweetness of the cocoa.
The men immediately descended on the food, pulling apart slices, taking huge bites before the pizza hit their plates, and arguing over topping choices. Wyatt thought mushrooms and peppers were slimy, Boone only wanted meat and cheese, and Decker didn’t “eat shit like this during the season.”
And then, Gunnar made everyone laugh when he said in his gruff voice, “It’s just food. Who the hell cares?”
Growing up, Finlay either ate dinner alone in front of the TV or with one of her parents. With her mom, it was quiet. The scrape of a fork on a plate, the rustle of paper from a catalog asher mom sorted through the mail. Sometimes, she’d ask a few polite questions about her day.
Her dad almost always brought someone home with him. They’d tell drinking stories, swap worst skiing accidents or chunked golf shots, and hang out. She never had much to contribute, so she’d often take food to her room.
In contrast, the McKennas were boisterous, loud, and constantly messing with each other. There was so much laughter that her stomach muscles ached. She couldn’t keep up with all the swearing and inside jokes, but she loved every second of it.
She loved how their tight bond made them confident. These men did what they wanted and didn’t wait for anyone to join them.
Because they had each other.
And that was enough.
That’s why they don’t need wives and children. Because they’re complete in their own McKenna universe.
She had to let that sink in. There was no bridge across the chasm separating her and Jude. He had no need for the life she craved.
Well, that’s depressing.
But it was a good reminder to tread carefully during the next few weeks. She absolutely could not fall in love with him.
“What’s up, little man?” Decker tapped Cody’s uneaten pizza. “Not hungry?”
