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“What’s going on?” Colleen asked, entering the kitchen, her hands on her hips, scowling at Finn.
“Look, Finn is here,” Eileen said, drying her eyes. “You two talk. I’m going to find Molly.” Eileen patted Colleen’s arm and left the kitchen.
They were alone. Colleen continued to scowl at him, and he had no idea what she was thinking. He greeted her like her brothers did when they wanted to tease her.
“Hi, princess,” Finn said, hoping to lighten her mood.
“Don’t call me that,” Colleen snapped, pulling a bottle of chardonnay from the fridge.
“No Guinness or Jameson for you?”
“I hate beer and there’s no way I’ll drink whiskey.” Colleen removed a wine glass from the cupboard and filled her glass to the top.
“Take it easy,” Finn said, taking the bottle from her.
She jabbed a finger in his direction. “You—of all people—do not get to tell me what to do. So back off, Finn.” Colleen took a sip of wine, her cornflower blue eyes boring into his in warning.
This was it. He had to say or do something to make this right between them. “Look,” he said, raking a hand through his hair, “I want to—”
The swinging kitchen door burst open as two guests entered to grab more beer from the fridge.
Colleen accepted their condolences and thanked them for coming.
Finn kept his eyes on Colleen until they were alone again. Without any preamble, he got to the crux of what he needed to say. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” her voice was quiet but underscored with tension.
He intended to apologize, but he didn’t want to argue with her. “This was a mistake,” Finn said under his breath.
“No, let’s go back to what you were going to say. Tell me what you’re sorry for. And be specific. I’d really like to know.” Colleen placed her wine glass down and leaned against the counter, arms crossed, waiting for his answer.
Despite her show of strength, he could see the pain in her eyes. His heart sank with the realization that any apology was probably useless.
“I’m sorry your dad died. I’m sorry this has been a hard day for you.” He hesitated for a moment. “I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye before I left.”
Colleen’s eyes narrowed. She was angry, but she wasn’t stopping him.
She was giving him a chance to explain. He had one shot at this, and he couldn’t make another mistake. “But I’m not sorry for that night.”
Her blush had returned. “I wish it never happened,” Colleen muttered, stomping out to the patio.
Finn braced his hands against the edge of the kitchen counter, his fingers digging into the rough tile grout. He remained still, although his heart raced. He couldn’t go after her because she wasn’t his to claim. He should leave, but he couldn’t. During his trip here, Finn had convinced himself that maybe there was a chance—a slim chance—things would be different. But that was a fantasy; the reality was far worse than he’d imagined. “Fuck,” he muttered, massaging the back of his neck.
CHAPTER 3
FINN
Rather than follow Colleen outside, Finn returned to the living room. More guests had arrived, and he did his best to mingle, but he could barely hear what anyone was saying over the loud music. Jimmy loved two types of music: Irish and Motown. At the moment, The Chieftains were on a non-stop rotation.
Finn moved through the room until he found Sean huddled in conversation with his brothers.
“Hey,” Sean said, when Finn arrived, slapping him on the back. “Here’s to the Murphy brothers!”
With a cheer, Sean and Aidan raised their glasses in a toast.
Ryan didn’t join his brothers in raising his glass. “What the fuck is he doing here?”
“Finn belongs here,” Sean said, with a nod to Finn.
