Page 51 of Cosy & Chill
Leo squinted. “Didn’t you hear me? I have to go into town.”
“Not that. What are you sorry for?”
“For leaving you alone with the Irish hurricane? I don’t think you’ll get a moment’s peace to do anything.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“It does. You have a lot of work and I—” Leo rubbed a hand through his hair. “I meant to keep her occupied and out of your hair so you can knit,” he admitted. “It bugs me that I can’t do that. Then, tomorrow’s market day and—”
Finn cupped his jaw, smooth now after shower and shave. “Shhh. It’s fine. Really. You’ll go sort what needs sorting, and I’ll make sure Roisin knows what we want. If it bothers you to have her in your space, I can keep her entertained in the yarn part of the store.” He grinned at a sudden image of Roisin, big spoon in hand, headfirst in Leo’s freezer. “I promise to keep her away from your ice cream.”
“I heard that!”
Leo growled. “Woman has bat ears, truly. Shouldn’t be able to eavesdrop from a whole floor away!” He dropped a kiss on Finn’s cheek. “Thank you.”
“Don’t sweat it. Come on. You need breakfast before you hit the rush hour.”
They clattered down the stairs and trooped into the kitchen. Roisin wore a smile that was nothing short of salacious, but she had plates of bacon and eggs ready for them as well as a stack of toast and a big pot of coffee. Finn could forgive a lot for that. Even the early wake-up call. While he would have liked to stay in bed, preferably with Leo beside him, Leo’s ministrations had mellowed him enough that Roisin’s grin didn’t bother him.
They hadn’t mellowed him so much that he was ready to forget the marks he’d seen on Leo’s skin when they’d dried off. They weren’t freckles as he’d first thought, and they were too orderly to be any kind of skin complaint. Besides, Leo’s discomfort when he’d seen Finn looking suggested something very different.
Leo bore scars. Tiny scars from cuts and burns, from bites and beatings, all placed where they couldn’t be seen unless Leo undressed. Finn had gone to school with a boy whose father whipped him with a belt. The marks left by the belt’s buckle had matched some of the marks on Leo’s skin.
Finn didn’t know what to make of the revelation. The scars were old, but they still made Leo uncomfortable. And when Finn had compared Roisin to an older sister, Leo had flinched. Finn wanted to know who’d hurt Leo, but Leo’s secrets were his own, and it wouldn’t be right to pry.
He watched Leo inhale his breakfast, remembered the gentleness in the touch of his fingers and mouth, and wondered if there was anything he could do to help.
As Leo had predicted, Finn had little time to think for the rest of the morning. As soon as they’d finished breakfast, Roisin swung into action.
“We need the store sorting first.” Finn reminded as he followed her to the attic rooms.
“Let me work the way I’m used to workin’. It’ll go faster that way. Now.” She stopped in the doorway to his workroom, pad and pen in hand. “Is this the layout you want for this room?”
Finn’s gaze moved from the window to the pasting table. “More or less.”
“Which is it?”
“It works for now. It still needs a chair. I’d also love a comfy armchair to sit in and knit. Maybe a cupboard or something for storage. None of those are essential.”
She threw him a pitying smile. “If they’re needed to finish the room, they’re essential.”
“The store is our priority, Roisin. It’s the only thing that matters right now. If you want to look under the floorboards or behind the fireplace in every room to check for your hoard or whatever, just say so and be done with it.” Finn rarely argued. He wasn’t in the habit of raising his voice, but he came pretty close right then.
“Don’t get yer knickers in a twist. I heard ye.” Roisin was maddeningly calm for a redhead with an Irish accent. Much calmer than Finn, whose hair masked a stubborn streak rather than a temper. “Look at it this way: ye wouldn’t start knitting a jumper and decide halfway through what the colour should be, right? Or the neckline? That’s what I’m doing right now. I’m lookin’ at the whole place to get a feeling for it.” She turned in the empty part of the room. “What about lights? Would ye paint the walls or keep them white?”
“Maybe a desk lamp?” Finn hesitated. “I’ve not really thought about any of that. White walls will help with picking out colours, right?”
“That they will. What about the rest of the house? The flooring’s in good nick, but all the walls could do with a lick o’ paint. Do ye want all of it white?”
“When would we have had time to think about decorating? We’ve barely moved in.”
“I bet ye know what ye want to do with the store.”
Finn couldn’t argue that. The dark panelling made the store feel cosy and warm, and they wanted accessories to match. “Come downstairs and I’ll show you,” he said, not surprised when she rolled her eyes.
