Page 91 of Stirring Up Love
“Oh yeah, I know all about meddling big brothers,” Finn said, thinking of Darius and his push to get him to start the business, to go onThe Executives.
“Is that Hector I hear?” Simone’s grandmother appeared at the doorway, beaming at Hector. “Where are your girls?”
“Morning, Ellie.” Quentin raised his mug of coffee in greeting.
She shot him a warm smile. “Good morning, Quentin. Hope you slept well?” He nodded, and her gaze shifted to Finn. “I see someone is a tad more sober. Finneas, is it?”
What was with this family and adding extra syllables? “Just Finn.”
“Well, you can call me Ellie,” she said, mistaking his meaning. “May as well drop the formalities. After all, you and my granddaughter have been gallivanting across the country unchaperoned.” Unchaperoned? Was this 1955?
Not waiting for a reply, she moved on to Hector, a wide grin lighting up her green eyes, and shook a scolding finger at him. “And you, young man—What’s the meaning of showing up without the twins?”
“They’ll be coming down this afternoon with everyone else.”
“Hmph. Better c’mon in and eat, ’fore you waste away.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Hector stood and shuffled out without a backward glance.
“So that’s my future grandmother-in-law.”
Finn covered his mouth, but a snort escaped. A matching snort came from Quentin’s chair, and soon both men were laughing. Quentin helped him to his feet. “Guess you didn’t make the best first impression.”
“Yeah, but what’s with her and your brother?”
“You know, I haven’t quite figured it out. I’m guessing it has a lot to do with two reasons: my twin nieces, who could charm their way into anyone’s heart.” Quentin grinned. “It might take great-grandkids before I complete the transition from guy who tore up their backyard looking for dinosaurs to grandson status.”
Did he say “dinosaurs”? Quentin kept talking as if that was a normal statement. “As for you? I know Simone’s a grown woman, and I don’t buy into that misogynistic nonsense about protecting her as her male relative.”
“You don’t?”
“I don’t. But I feel like now might be a good time to give you a heads-up. You’re the first man she’s ever brought home. No pressure.” Quentin clapped him on the back and strode into the kitchen, leaving Finn with a pit in his stomach that had a lot less to do with the lingering dregs of liquor than the worry he wouldn’t measure up in this family.
Again.
“Dairy in the eggs—yes or no?” Carton of cream poised over a dozen beaten eggs, Simone’s grandmother stared him down, green eyes narrowed. A test of his judgment, not his cooking skills.
“Your kitchen, your rules,” he said.
Mrs.Blake let out a surprised chuckle. “Good answer, young man.” She closed the carton and poured the eggs into a skillet on the stove, next to a cast-iron griddle lined with sausage links. “Never use cream myself. You mind?”
The spatula in her hand was a peace offering, and he took it, but she held on, her eyes sharp on his.
“Just so you know, it’s gonna take more than diplomacy and fluffy eggs to dig yourself out of that hole you dug onThe Executives.”
Finn’s hand went shaky on the handle, memories of how he’d thrown Simone under the bus all too fresh in his mind. “I didn’t mean half of what I said on the show.”
“Which half?” She fetched tongs off the counter. “The part where you said Honey and Hickory is a backwoods cesspool of food poisoning?” An exaggeration, but not by much. “Or the part where you denied Simone had any hand in making Honey and Hickory what it is today?” A contradiction that highlighted just how off base he’d been on the show. Silence stretched, long and hollow, in the crater left by her recitation of his words.
An answer was required. A reckoning.
How many times had he been in this position, close to a family, hedging for an opening, a way in, against all odds? Experience told him this was another long shot—nearly impossible. But he had to try. For Simone. For himself.
“I regret what I said about Honey and Hickory.” He ran the spatula around the edge of the pan, then met her eyes. “But more so, I regret what it may have cost Simone, because if—” The thought hit him, sudden and real, that his words could’ve cost her everything. “Ruining this chance for her was never what I wanted. I let my emotions get the best of me.”
Turning the sausage in the skillet, Mrs.Blake gave Finn a side-eye to rival Simone’s. “You apologize awful quick.”
Quick? He’d had days to think it over. A week full of regret ... and wonder. “Only when I know I’m wrong.”
