Page 55 of Found in Wild Sage

“Um, rude and gross. What does that even mean?”

His face drops into a serene mask. “I’m just saying, I came because I thought Dec wouldn’t make it.”

That judgement swings my way.

“Charlie’s doing a bit better this morning, and Evie and he were going to play for a while, then nap. I thought I’d give them some space.”

There is no doubt we all hear it—the odd reality that I’m declaring giving my newlywed wife space a week after we married. Bless them, they don’t comment on it.

Soon, the second round of folks is coming through, and Finn jumps in to help. He’s charming and light, and I see May give him a big, likely conciliatory hug when it’s all done.

She assures us she’s almost finished and there are a few other volunteers hanging around, so Finn offers to walk me home.

My rejection of this goes exactly nowhere, so I end up strolling back toward home with Finn yammering on about when Gus will be back and what he wants to do with his old best friend first.

“How’s he doing?”

It’s not a given that people leaving the military after nearly twenty years will have PTSD or some other form of trauma. Sometimes, I think civilians are disappointed when veterans lack a certain sensitivity to fireworks or large groups.

But even without diagnosed or observable PTSD symptoms, I know a bit about Gus. No matter what he did in the military, coming home was always going to be bittersweet. Frankly, there’s part of me that’s surprised he’s coming back at all.

Finn shrugs. “Seems good. But Gus isn’t going to say anything negative over the phone. I won’t know for sure until he’s back.”

He cracks a knuckle, one of his nervous tells, then kicks a pebble down the street. “So what’s happening with you?”

As much as I’ve been dreading this question, I understand the topic change. Finn has been back in Juniper View for several years now, but he’s admitted it doesn’t feel “the same.” I’m not sure what that means, what he’s looking for, but I hope having his old friend back will help.

Time will tell how everyone else does with Gus’s return.

“Charlie’s better—or he was before I left earlier. Hoping he’s continuing to improve. I don’t think Evie got much sleep last night.”

He snorts, then eyes me. “Don’t think, huh? So you weren’t keeping her up, I take it?”

Refusing to dignify this, I shoot him a glare.

“I don’t get it.” He shakes his head, evidently truly mystified.

“What?”

He stops, hands on hips, and gives me the most Grant Ryan look I’ve ever seen from him. He must’ve been studying up lately.

“You have a woman you are low-key obsessed with as your new wife and you seem like you’re hardly spending time with her. And I know it’s not Charlie, because he’s awesome, and I’m pretty sure you were obsessed with him first.”

I don’t love his use of obsessed here, but he’s not wrong. Yet, what can I say that won’t give me away? Finn’s never going to let up—it’s just who he is.

“It’s all a bit tense. I think we’ll relax when the legal part of this is over.”

As much as we don’t want everyone focused on the custody hearing, we weren’t going to try to hide that from family. Davis already knows about it, and while technically bound by client confidentiality rules, it seems inevitable someone would catch wind. So Finn isn’t in the dark on it, either.

He shakes his head, clearly revving up to lay into me more.

“I promise you, I don’t need a lecture on loving my wife.”

“Like hell. You’ve been so buttoned up your entire life, you don’t know how to relax. You don’t know how to let someone love you and love them back. You have a perfect little family, a dream, and you won’t reach out and take it.”

He huffs out a breath and scrubs a hand over his face. I’m silent, bereft of a response to him, because he just gutted me, no knife required.

“Listen, I’m sorry. That was harsh. I just…” His shoulders fall and he studies the sidewalk for a beat before looking at me. “Not everyone can have the dream. You do.” He claps me on the shoulder. “Don’t waste it.”