Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
I sighed, tracing my finger over the pattern on the tablecloth. “That was before you,” I admitted. “I feel such a…” I trailed off, unsure how to express it.
“Connection?” he asked quietly, reaching out to take my hand and stop its restless movement.
“Yes.”
“I feel it too, Una. I have from the moment I met you. Your brother and father faded into the background, and I couldn’t have cared less that they were even in the room. I was captivated by the old soul in the eighteen-year-old body. The wise woman speaking in a girl’s voice. I have compared you to every woman I have met since that day, wondering how they seemed so ordinary next to you.”
“I’m sure you didn’t let that stop you from enjoying their company,” I teased, yet hated the thought of him with someone else.
He shrugged. “I’ve never been a monk, but I think you’d be surprised at how few I enjoyed, as you put it. How empty I felt with them. How simply being in your presence tonight has filled me in ways I can’t even explain.”
“Finn…” I whispered.
He gripped my hand. “Promise me you’ll try. If you’re worried, talk to me. Give me a chance, Una. Get to know me. In return, I promise you complete honesty. I’ll never lie or sugarcoat things. You will always know where you stand with me. Honesty is very important.”
His gaze was powerful. Focused entirely on me. I could feel his passion and need. Felt it reflected in my soul.
“Or am I too old for you, Una? Ten years is a lot.”
“No. I don’t care about that. I have never felt my age.”
“Or acted like it,” he agreed. “So, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying yes.”
“I need you alone. Now.”
“I don’t get to finish dessert?”
He was already on his feet. “I’ll get you one to go.”
A knock at my door brought me from my musings. I stood, shifting the blanket off my lap. I set down my cup of cold tea and headed to the door, peering out the peephole. I sighed, resting my head against the wood. “What now, Brian?” I asked.
“Let me in.”
“So you can yell and call me names? Mess up the place some more?”
“Apologize.”
That surprised me. I opened the door, stepping back to let him in. He looked tired, the bruising on his face dark and angry-looking. He met my eyes, his brown-colored gaze much like my father’s.
For a moment, neither of us said anything. Then I waved my hand. “Come sit.”
He followed me to the living room, sitting on the sofa. He was clean, his hair brushed, and despite his injuries, he looked calm.
“I was a jerk. An asshole. I’m sorry.”
He sounded sincere. I nodded, letting him talk.
“I was in over my head. I broke all the rules, and you’re right. Finn could have done much worse. I’m sorry for what I did. For stealing your money.”
I indicated the backpack he had with him. “You can’t come back.”
“I know. But I wanted you to know I meant it. I’ll pay you back. I’ll figure it out.” He drew in a deep breath. “I was wondering if I could leave my backpack, though. Juan’s place is small, and I need this safe.” He glanced at me, then back at the bag.
“What’s in it?” I asked, suspicious.
He paused, then sighed. “Some of Dad’s old shirts and things. Some pictures. They’re all I have left, Una. I just want them safe. I’ll stick them in the closet so they won’t be in your way.”
Instantly, I felt awful.
“I didn’t know you had some of Dad’s things.”
“Stuff he had in his locker and car. They were things he touched every day, so they’re important.” He opened a zipper, showing me a photo of the three of us when he and I were young. It was faded and bent. “Like this.”
I traced the images, sentiment welling inside me. If this photo and whatever else meant something to him, he wasn’t lost. The man I knew he could be was in there somewhere. I handed it back to him. “Yes, you can.”
“Thanks. Just until I find a place of my own.”
I nodded, and he left the room, returning a moment later after putting the bag away.
“So, do I know this Juan?”
“No. I met him a few weeks ago on one of my jobs.”
“Ah.”
“He also does some side delivery gigs, and it gives him some extra cash. He’s gonna get me in, and I’ll give you that money.”
“Side deliveries?” I asked skeptically.
“Like DoorDash, but for businesses. He takes documents that need signing from one business to another—that sort of thing.”
“Oh.” It sounded innocent enough. “Nothing that will compromise your job with Finn?”
A look flashed over his face. One of annoyance—but it went quickly.
“No. Just a side gig so I can pay you back.”