Page 70 of Wood Riddance
I grumbled through the end of our workout, still actively trying to keep my brain from drifting to Finn. It took every ounce of self-control I had not to respond to his texts. But I needed a minute. I needed space from his face and his body and his constant flirting.
“Does he smell like plaid?” Parker asked while foam rolling her hamstrings.
“Plaid is not a smell.”
“Disagree. You know what I’m talking about. Solid, capable, manly with a hint of spice?”
Shit,he did smell like plaid.
* * *
Duck, Duck, Moose was a dive bar in spirit and the official hangout spot for Lovewell locals. The space was huge, with pool tables, booth seating, and a dance floor. On Saturday nights during the summer, the place was packed, both inside and out on the tiny deck off the back. Hazel was bartending tonight. She had recently finished her PhD and was working on a big research project with the National Institute of Health about the opioid crisis in Maine, but she still bartended when Jim needed her. He hated pretty much everyone on earth, but he had a soft spot for Hazel.
Remy was parked at the bar, where he could be found any night she was working, drinking water and gazing longingly at his wife. All my brothers had fallen hard. But while Henri and Paz leaned more toward stoic, Remy wore his heart on his sleeve. The way he worshipped his wife was both adorable and cringe inducing. Not that he cared what any of us thought.
Dylan sat next to him. He was thoughtful and sweet, and he was handsome too. He was around my height, and with his dark hair, glasses, and broad shoulders that filled out his flannel shirt perfectly, he walked the line between nerdy science teacher and grizzled lumberjack perfectly.
If I had half a brain, I’d be interested in him. It was common knowledge that he’d had a crush on me back in high school. He was exactly the sort of stable, dependable, sweet guy a smart girl would marry.
Because a girl doesn’t marry the best sex of her life.
Or the dangerous Viking.
Or the man who makes her think and feel things she can’t quite control.
Nope. Definitely not husband material. But Dylan would be perfect.
If only I were into him.
And there was also the pesky detail that he was head over heels in love with Lydia Huron. That crush he had on me in high school stayed in high school. Lydia, though, taught at the school, too, and she was seemingly oblivious to his blatant pining.
But he was a good friend, and we’d gotten closer since my brothers and friends had fallen madly in love. When it came to darts, he was a worthy opponent, and that was usually how we spent these nights out. Loser bought the chicken fingers, which we ate while trash talking and playing another game.
His face fell as Lydia walked in arm in arm with some random dude.
“Who’s that?”
He shrugged. “Guy from Bangor. Guess she’s dating him.”
A little uncomfortable, I decided he needed a distraction. I looped my arm around his and tugged. “Let’s play darts.”
“I’m off my game tonight. You’ll kick my ass,” he teased.
“I’ll go easy on you,” I promised. “Give you some pointers.”
He took another look across the room at Lydia and her date, who were cozied up in a booth on the back wall. My heart ached for him. I didn’t know her well, but I had the overwhelming desire to stomp across the bar and kick her ass.
She was petite, with long red hair and a perfect smattering of freckles across her cute nose. I had no reason to hate her, but my loyalty to Dylan overtook logic.
“Can I accidentally hit him with a dart?” I asked sweetly. I had zero doubt that I could nail that fucker between the eyes from across the room.
He rolled his eyes at me and pulled me toward our usual spot, gesturing to Hazel for another round.
We were a few games in when I turned and spotted the one person I was hoping to avoid. Finn. He was striding into the bar. His long legs were eating up the distance quick, and his hair was down. Damn, he looked stupidly good.
I should have looked away. But I froze in place, entranced by him. For someone so tall, he moved with an exceptional amount of grace and confidence.
Finn Hebert made me lose all sense of control.
