Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64765 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64765 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Realizations like that might be normal for the Finn family, but it was a little unusual in his house. He had to sit with it for a while. Sexual attraction and friendship were things he’d expected and accepted going into this. Things he’d hoped for. But his feelings in bed with Wyatt this morning, and the ache he’d felt on his behalf when Fiona had revealed her secrets… That could turn into something a lot more complicated, if it hadn’t already.
This might have been for nothing. Wyatt and Fiona could even now be realizing that the baby changed everything, and they could leave the Wayne-plex, determined to be the kind of fine, upstanding parents they’d never had themselves—which would mean experimentation time was over, and phase three would never get off the ground.
Fiona with a baby in her arms would be a beautiful sight. And despite her worries, there was no doubt in his mind that she’d make a fantastic mother. Or that Wyatt would turn himself inside out to be the best father he could be. That child would be surrounded with love from all sides.
Thoreau wouldn’t mind being a part of that, but it wasn’t up to him anymore. He’d have to respect Wyatt’s role as the father and back down, if that’s what it came down to. In order to be the friend Fiona was going to need, he’d have to let go of his plans and see what the other two decided to do.
He could do that. Rise above. Step aside. Let what they could have between them go without a fight.
Thoreau slammed the heel of his hand against his steering wheel.
“Fuck that.” He wasn’t tapping out yet.
Thoreau got out of the car and walked swiftly through the pub, keeping his head down when Seamus called his name. He had a goal, damn it. He was at least going to see this part through to the end.
He went straight down to the brewery, opening the refrigerator and pulling out the finished three-pack to set it on the counter. He looked hard at each of the bottles in turn.
These might be the best recipes he’d ever created. The Irish red infused with chilis labeled Wyatt’s Firecracker. Fiona’s Cream Ale—Wyatt’s favorite, the smooth ale with the barest hint of lavender. And the braggot, his mead hybrid, whose label he’d created to print out before he came here. He wrapped the label around the amber bottle, smiling a little as he read the beer’s name. Thor’s Hammer.
His life’s passions combined. The mad scientist of beer and romance, at your service.
If only making a relationship work came to him as easily as brewing did.
With the W.T.F. the pack in hand, he turned to find Seamus at the foot of the stairs again.
“My son’s not talking to your sister at the moment,” he started.
Not what he was expecting to hear. “What?”
Seamus stuck his hands in his pockets. “He called me on my way here. Shelley admitted to seeing Jake’s messages and giving you a head’s-up about Fiona’s trip to California. Since he considers Fi to be one of his closest friends, he’s feeling like shit right about now. So is Shelley, for what it’s worth. I think that’s why she came clean.”
Thoreau shifted impatiently. “I already talked to her about it, but I’m glad she told him. Jake doesn’t have anything to feel bad about.”
“That’s what I said. He was protecting a friend’s privacy. About that…” he hesitated.
“The baby?”
Seamus’ shoulders visibly relaxed. “Yeah, I wasn’t sure if we were talking about it. I was worried when she sprang it on you without warning. That is, until Jake called.”
Thoreau felt a warm burst of gratitude. “Thanks, man. It’s nice to know you care, but I already knew and I’m good with it.”
“I’m glad.” Seamus bumped his shoulder affectionately. “Wyatt’s my cousin, so I’m happy for him, too. But you and I are partners, right?”
“Right.”
“Family.”
“Right.”
“And I can try that beer now?”
“Wrong.” Thoreau laughed. “Sorry, but can we wait until tomorrow? I want your input, but I think the inspiration deserves to experience it first.”
Seamus tilted his head to read the pack and the bottles. He whistled. “If those are as good as the packaging…”
“They are.”
Seamus nodded. “I don’t doubt it for a minute. Does this mean things are going well? With the, um, living situation? Despite the news?”
Thoreau looked over his shoulder as he started up the staircase. “Did you place a bet, Seamus Finn? With insider information?”
“Never.” Following him, Seamus held his hand up, as if swearing to it. “But I did finally get a look at the thing. I was curious about who’d win the pool.”
“My money’s on Rory.”
“Are you sure you want to go with that? You know how he is. His is a little over—”
“I’m sure.”
When he’d said his goodbyes and made it to his car, his phone vibrated in his pocket. Had his mother forgotten to delete the group text?