Page 42 of The Moment He Couldn’t Walk Away

“All good.”

“She loved it here,” Nina said. “Because of Nancy. They were friends.”

“Water.” Lynx returned to pass her a glass. “Drink.”

She did, taking it and gulping it down.

“And now we’re going to all dance one last time for Shirley!” These words were spoken by Nancy, who was standing on the bar. “Everyone outside into the parking lot now!”

A cheer went up, and soon they were surging toward the door. Music started, and groups formed, oblivious to the cold.

“For Shirley!” Everyone cheered, and Nina started crying again.

“My eyes won’t stop leaking,” she said to Finch, who was beside her.

“Your mom just died, Nina. I’m sure if it was mine, I’d be crying too.”

They both searched for Meadow McAllister, who was dancing with Robyn Duke and her boyfriend Callum. She wore a skirt in the subdued colors of pumpkin and kale, and her jacket was patchwork.

“Where does she get her clothes?” Nina asked. Her head felt a little clearer now she was in the cold air and had drunk water.

“I have no idea, but I’d like to pay them a visit,” he drawled.

For a big man, he moved with grace through the steps that were as familiar to them as any, seeing as they’d been doing them since they were old enough to walk.

“And tell them thank you for making my mom happy and colorful in a world full of gray?” Nina said.

“Not quite what I was thinking, but nice words just the same,” he said.

The dark trousers and shirt looked good on his big body, and maybe he looked a little happier, but it was hard to tell. It could just be his game face for social occasions.

SJ tripped on someone’s foot and stumbled. Finch caught her with both hands on her waist. The woman looked up at him with a sultry smile in place and said something Nina couldn’t hear.

Jealousy was the only word for the emotion that chased through her.

Oh no, that would not do. This man was off-limits, and her life was a dumpster fire right now. Walk away fast!

Chapter 13

“Thanks, but no thanks, SJ,” Finch said, settling her back on her feet after she’d deliberately stepped into his path and he’d nearly flattened her.

“Your loss,” she said, shrugging.

He’d rather walk into a room full of women and tell them he needed a hug and help with his emotions than go to bed with Sydney Jane. The woman had slept her way pretty much through every single man—and a few married men—in Lyntacky.

Now that the music was over, everyone was hurrying back inside to the warmth. He followed, and was soon standing with his family and other friends. The past few hours had gone like that. He’d wandered from group to group, not really settling in one, but keeping an eye on her. Nina’s tribute to her mother had been from the heart, and pretty much everyone in the room had been crying by the end.

She was over by the bar now, drinking coffee and talking with some guy he’d learned was called Kurt, a new barman at the Rollaway.

Finch had lost the art of being sociable. Once, he’d been the man who could walk into any room and feel at ease. Since the accident, he now had fears and insecurities and loathed how much he’d changed.

“It will take time to get back to the man you were, but that doesn’t mean this version isn’t worth fighting for, Finch. The new you may be a better version.”

He’d asked the therapist what was wrong with who he’d been, feeling raw and pissed off by the comments. The woman had said, “I don’t know. You tell me.”

Finch had driven away from that session thinking for the first time about the man he’d become. He’d once been someone he’d always believed he was proud of. Okay, so maybe he’d realized his family hadn’t had the best of him over the years. In fact, he’d walked away and not looked back, other than occasional visits, but not much else. He didn’t accept failure, nor did he accept any kind of weakness in himself, or, if he was honest, others.

“You’re frowning,” Brody Duke said from beside him. “You all good, bud?”