My back stiffens, and that protectiveness returns. Especially after Finley overheard that video call with Roland. I don’t want her forced to sit through a talk about my sexual history.
“Hey!” I snap. “That’s enough. Finley already said she doesn’t want to hear about my exes.”
A sheepish look covers Tyler’s face. “Sorry, Finley. He’s right.”
I stare at him. Genuine apologies don’t come easily to my older brother, and there’s no doubt this one is sincere.
“It’s fine. I’m not naive enough to think Alex walked into my life a virgin,” Finley says with a smile. But I’m learning Finley O’Brien’s body language, and I know this smile is forced.
“I’ll say,” Mallory mutters with a fake cough.
Finley shakes her head and I’m relieved when her smile becomes more natural.
“Maybe we should start shopping again,” I suggest. “We’ve only seen half the market and Mallory has at least a dozen more purchases in her before she begs Tyler or me to carry her bags.”
Finley looks up at me, her eyes twinkling. “If you were a good brother, she wouldn’t need to ask.”
I laugh and clutch my chest in mock injury. “Ouch.”
“Oh!” Mallory declares. “That cinched it. I love her.”
Tyler grumbles under his breath, but as we stand, he quietly grabs a couple of Mallory’s bags. Finley gives me a pointed look, and I reach across the table and wiggle my fingers at my sister.
Mallory laughs and hands me a large bag, satisfaction written all over her face.
“Why are you only giving him one?” Tyler asks.
“Finley still hasn’t gotten anything yet,” she says with an impish gleam. “I need to make sure Alex has a free hand to hold her bags when she does.”
Tyler lifts a brow. “Maybe Finley’s just looking and not planning to buy anything.”
“Oh, I’m definitely buying,” Finley says. “But I want to see everything first, then go back and get what I want.”
She’s not kidding. She’s already spotted gifts for everyone in my family with the exception of Eloise and my father, and she’s helped me come up with ideas for mine. She’s also plotting stockings and stocking stuffers to make my gift cards less pathetic.
“Well, thank goodness,” Mallory says, pretending to wipe sweat from her brow. “I need you to start buying things soon or I’m going to look like a shopaholic.”
“If the shoe fits…” Tyler says dryly.
“Hey!” Mallory shoots back, jabbing a finger at him. “I’ll have you know I haven’t bought any shoes.”
He gives her a look. “It wasn’t literal.”
She flips him off, then snags Finley’s arm and drags her away from us to the next stall, the two of them laughing like they’ve been friends for years.
Tyler and I follow. The tension between us is less strained, but he’s still on edge.
The girls duck into a handblown glass ornament booth. Mallory drops her hold on Finley’s arm and is asking the vendor a question about how they’re made.
I hang back, watching Finley like a stalker as she studies the glass ornaments covering a three-foot-tall Christmas tree on a table. I can’t seem to help myself. There’s something so pure about her that has me mesmerized. I’m enthralled by the look of delight on her face as she lightly touches the ornaments. A feeling I don’t understand sweeps over me. There’s nothing sexual about it—she’s looking at reindeer and Santas and snowmen—yet I’m filled with yearning.
But for what?
Finley?
I’ve already acknowledged she’s beautiful, but this isn’t about her physical beauty. Finley isn’t a fun roll in the sheets. She’s end game. The kind of woman you build a life with.
But not for someone like me.
