Page 12 of Breathless

Which was actually why he’d stopped in before heading to the hospital for a visit.

He stepped up to a group of shiny three-hundred-gallon conical fermentation tanks to check the digital read-outs of the fermentations. The new temperature-regulated tanks were keeping everything in the optimum range to produce the flavors he was looking for.

Thoreau had high hopes for this latest batch, but for once, his reasons had nothing to do with the business. He’d been working on it for months—before Fiona had left for the second time and Wyatt had been injured in the fire—developing the recipes for a strong beer/mead hybrid called a braggot, a smooth cream ale, and an Irish red with a little something special.

Three beers. One for each of them. Symbolic? Sure. But they should also be delicious.

He climbed a few steps up a short ladder next to one of the fermenters to peer into the small glass porthole. “In high gear now, aren’t we, baby?” he said with pride as he watched the roiling foam churn.

He ducked his head down to sniff the aroma pouring out of the airlock valve and couldn’t help but let out a groan of delight at the rich, heady scent that greeted him. “I knew I was good, but damn.”

“Are you talking to yourself again? Or the beer?” asked a familiar voice from the other end of the basement.

Thoreau grabbed the ladder to steady himself, “Holy shit, Seamus! I didn’t hear you coming down the stairs.”

“Shit, I wasn’t trying to kill you.” Seamus quickened his steps and reached instinctively for the ladder. “You breaking your neck is the last thing I need on my conscience.”

Thoreau grinned. “I’m literally two feet off the ground. You can’t stop with the Dad thing, can you?”

Seamus ran a hand over his face and shook his head. “You get yourself four kids, Thor. Then you’ll know.” He gestured to the tanks. “Your secret experiments going well?”

“Of course,” Thoreau said, raising his eyebrow as he stepped off the ladder. “I’m a highly trained professional.”

“Can’t wait to try one. I was just coming down to do a check myself, since I didn’t expect you here. The group text said they were sending Fiona home to get some sleep.”

“They did. She was out before she got under the covers.” Thoreau saw the tension around Seamus’ eyes and his smiled faded. “How’s everybody else holding up?”

His business partner found a stool and sat down with a sigh. “Two cousins laid up at the same time, one of them as physically altered as Noah? Honestly, I think we’re all still in shock. They’ve been running into fires for years, but this is the first time we’ve acknowledged the reality that they could be badly hurt.”

He hadn’t seen how altered Noah was, but he’d heard all about it from Fiona. “Have you seen him? Noah?”

Seamus paled. “I have. It could have been a lot worse if it weren’t for Wyatt, but he’s still got one hell of a road ahead.”

“Well he’s got you. And the rest of his family, shocked or not. That’ll help.”

“And Mom. Thank God for Ellen Finn,” Seamus praised with a small grin. “All us big, tough Finns could learn a thing or two from that woman. She even glared Dad out of the room until he could manage to talk to Noah without crying. At the moment, Younger is the only one she trusts to be in there with him when she isn’t around, and he feels so guilty about neglecting Wyatt, he keeps texting whoever is visiting him to let him know he’s there.”

“He’s a good guy. But sweet little Ellen is the taskmaster?”

Seamus chuckled. “You’ve never seen my mother in a true crisis. Sweet little Ellen knows it’s going to be hard enough for Noah to fight through his recovery without a bunch of assholes gasping every time they see his face. The doctor said that when he’s ready, there are new surgeries that can do a lot to minimize the damage. But first he has to heal. He has to want to. He gets it. My mother gets it. Even Hugo, gets it. Me? I still want to cry just thinking about what he’s going through.”

Thoreau didn’t blame him. He imagined the Finn men would have a rougher time with something like that. Especially Wyatt’s brothers. They didn’t admit to weakness easily in that family. “And Wyatt? Fiona said they’re letting him go tomorrow?”

“He still hurts, but yes, he’s out in the morning. He should be good as new in another month or so, as long as he takes it easy. No exertion for a while. Not until his PT starts. I’ve been looking into it so we can look after him.”

Although he’d heard most of this from Fiona, Thoreau nodded, making mental notes to himself. He’d need to coordinate his schedule with her to make it feasible. Especially for the few weeks Wyatt needed extra care. But this could work.

“I’m going to convince him to stay at the Wayne-plex during his recovery.”

Seamus did a double-take. “You’re what?”

Thoreau shrugged. “I have the room, and I already know everyone was arguing about where to put him so Noah could have his nurse at home. This solves that problem.”

Staring at him enigmatically, Seamus admitted, “There were arguments, and yes, once Noah gets out of the hospital, he needs a live-in, at least between surgeries. But he can—”

“I’m assuming there’s already someone there to help with little Zach, too? Or is he staying with your parents?” Thoreau interrupted with a bland, innocent expression.

“Nanny,” Seamus answered shortly, starting to frown. “Thor, I appreciate the offer, but he might be more comfortable with his family.”

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