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Second Chance Charmer by Brighton Walsh (27)

At nineteen, Finn never could’ve imagined his life would look like this. Ripped from the only girl he’d ever loved, with a sick momma, a brother just as lost as he was, and a fire burning under his skin to simply survive, he’d had no idea just how far they would manage to come.

And just who’d be by his side once he got where he was going.

He glanced at Willow across the bar. She still took his goddamn breath away every time he caught her eye. Every time she tipped her lips up in his direction, every time she reached for him, every time he woke in the morning with her cradled in his arms.

He figured he was the luckiest bastard on the planet.

They’d had plans tonight—a trip to the tree house to celebrate three months of business ownership. It’d been a rough three months—lots of long hours and stumbles as they’d found their footing with employees and figuring out how to run a business. But Willow had been there with him, had stood by his side through it all. Hadn’t complained when he’d had to work sixteen-hour days, when the only time she’d seen him had been for fifteen minutes on her lunch break.

And finally, tonight he was taking an evening off. The three owners had agreed they’d each have a night off this week to decompress and celebrate their success…away from the bar.

But fate, it seemed, had different plans for him tonight.

Willow looked up and shot him an apologetic look, but he merely shrugged. He wasn’t asshole enough to demand they go out while her sister drowned her sorrows in vodka—who knew Miss Prim and Proper was a hard liquor kind of girl? Sure as hell not him. But he didn’t blame her for downing one shot after another.

Hell of a way to find out your husband was fucking his assistant—surprising him at work in a last-ditch effort to save their marriage. That was what he’d overheard her say to Willow anyway. What a scumbag. Rory could be a lot to handle, but she was good people when it came right down to it. And any asshole who didn’t see that wasn’t welcome in his establishment, plain and simple.

There’d been rumors floating around about Sean and Desiree before now, but given Finn’s history with Havenbrook and the busybodies working their mouths overtime, he hadn’t put a whole lot of stock in it. At least, not until he’d heard the story directly from the horse’s mouth. Well, the horse was now nose-deep in a shit-ton of vodka and well on her way to a nasty hangover come tomorrow.

“Hey, man.” Nash took a seat a couple spots down from the sisters and lifted his chin in their direction. “What’s doin’ over there?”

Finn lifted a brow as he poured Nash a glass of his usual. “You ain’t heard already?”

“Heard what?”

Finn rested his elbows on the bar top and leaned forward, dropping his voice to be sure it didn’t carry. “Sean’s been sleepin’ with his assistant. Rory walked in on it tonight. Was headed there to surprise him with a night out, I guess.”

Nash glanced over at Rory, still dolled up in a pretty black dress, her hair loose and lips painted bright red, and let a string of curses loose under his breath.

“My thoughts exactly,” Finn said. “I’m torn between tellin’ her to slow down so she doesn’t get a bitch of a hangover tomorrow and giving her the whole damn bottle.”

Nash reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, shuffling through his cash. “How much?”

“For what?”

“The bottle of whatever she’s drinkin’.” He tossed a couple twenties on the counter. “Gimme a shot glass too, would you?”

Shit, was he going to have two drunk asses on his hands before the night was over? Though, if anyone was going to get drunk with Rory, there were worse people than Nash King to be by her side.

Finn grabbed the bottle of Grey Goose he’d been pouring for Rory and passed it, along with a shot glass, to Nash. He slid off his stool and walked toward the sisters, Finn following behind the bar, eavesdropping as Willow chatted with her sister.

“Shut up, Rory. I’m serious,” Willow said firmly. “I’m not gonna leave you alone at the bar drinking your night away just because I had plans.”

“Not just any plans. Plans to have amazing sex with your hot boyfriend.”

Finn choked out a laugh and tried to cover it with a cough. Well, shit. Maybe he’d given her too much to drink already.

Willow didn’t even glance his way, too busy staring at her sister, her eyes nearly bugging out of her head. “Oh my word, you’ve had enough liquor for one night. Hell, I think you’ve had enough for the whole damn year.” She reached for the empty shot glass in front of Rory, but her older sister slapped her hand away.

“Leave it! Listen to me now, I’m the oldest and I know best.” Rory sniffed, tilting her head up—and nearly falling off the stool in the process. “And what’s best is me getting shit-faced right here in this beautiful bar I helped design in secret. All ’cause I was too worried about what my lyin’, cheatin’ asshole of a husband would think about me doing somethin’ I loved. When that dickface was out doin’ someone else.”

“Oh shit,” Finn said under his breath.

“Rory. Honey. Why don’t we get you on home? You can stay with me and Mac tonight. I’ll have Momma get the kids, and you don’t have to worry—”

“Oh Lord, the kids,” Rory moaned, looking close to tears.

Willow shot him a panicked look, and Finn could only shrug in response because…yeah, no, he definitely didn’t have any idea how to handle that pile of shit.

“Hey, ladies. I’m not interruptin’, am I?” Nash slid onto the stool on Rory’s other side, setting his glass right next to hers before pouring them each a shot. He lifted her glass and held it out to her, brows raised as he waited for her to take it.

“What’s—” Willow started, but Finn placed his hand on her arm.

“Just give it a minute,” he murmured.

Rory shifted her gaze from Nash to the glass he held out and back again. Finally, she took it, and he clinked his glass with hers, then they both downed the shot.

“You can go ahead with whatever you had planned, Will,” Nash said, pouring them both another. “Been a rough day, and I could use a few more of these.”

Finn didn’t buy the lie—Nash never had rough days. The man was as easygoing as a golden retriever and never let much get to him.

Fortunately, Rory was too far gone to notice anything. “Yeah, Will, you heard the man. Go make out with your boyfriend. Have the kind of amazing sex I’ve never experienced. Do it for both of us, all right? I’mma have a few drinks with this hot man who isn’t fucking his assistant.” She turned to Nash, eyes narrowed and lips pursed. “You’re not fucking your assistant, are you?”

“Don’t have an assistant, princess, so that’d be a no.”

“Perfect. No assistant-fuckers allowed in this part of the bar.” She gestured wildly around them, nearly knocking over the bottle of vodka. “This is an assistant-fucker free zone, people!”

“Oh Lord,” Willow said. “Rory, let’s—”

“C’mon now,” Finn said, tilting his head to the side. “Let her be, and come over here with me for a bit.”

She looked like she wanted to argue, but she finally slipped off the stool and walked around the bar to meet him at the back. “Okay then, but you just remember I told you so when she’s hating herself tomorrow for how she’s acting right now. I’ve never in my life heard her drop an f-bomb, and she just dropped four of them in a minute! I’m so worried about her, Finn. I’ve never seen her like this.”

Just then, Rory’s laughter rang through the bar, and Willow whipped her head in that direction. Nash was staring at Rory, his lips quirked up at the side as she cackled about something he’d said as if it were the funniest thing she’d ever heard.

“See? She’ll be all right. You can take her home and coddle her a bit later. But let her be for just a little while.” He glanced around, checking to make sure Drew and Nola had everything out there under control. Nola stood by one of the high-top tables, chatting with a group of people, and Drew stood behind the bar, restocking.

Perfect.

He tugged Willow’s hand toward the office and walked backward, hoping like hell she’d follow him. “Come back here with me. I wanna show you somethin’.”

She glanced over her shoulder at her sister once more, finally seeming to be reassured when Rory was still laughing. Turning back to face him, she smirked. “Is this somethin’ in your pants by any chance?”

He gasped, bringing his hand to his chest as he opened the office door and guided her through, then shut it behind them. Leaning forward, he whispered, “There you go, bein’ a bad influence again. All I wanted to show you was this beer mug penholder Drew bought, and all you’re thinkin’ about is my cock. Such a dirty girl…”

Willow tipped her head back in laughter, the sound soothing his soul like nothing else ever could. She slipped her arms around his waist, tucking her hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “I’ve missed you. Sorry I couldn’t get away tonight.” She shot a worried look toward the door again, so Finn did the only thing he could to distract her.

He cupped her face and brought his lips to hers, starting the kiss slow and sweet. But things never stayed that way for long, not when they had the kind of chemistry they did. Soon enough, she had her legs wrapped around him and he was gripping her ass, grinding her down on his aching cock. Christ, he wanted her. Wanted her with every fiber of his being. But now wasn’t the time. She had too much on her mind, and he knew she wouldn’t be able to lose herself when her sister was in so much pain.

So he calmed himself down. Loosened his grip on her ass until he was just kneading it gently, a companion to the slow glide of his tongue against hers.

With three small, chaste kisses, he pulled back enough to look her in those eyes that he wanted to see every day for the rest of his life. “That’s all right, Willowtree. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

THANK YOU FOR READING FINLOW’S STORY! If you want to read Rory and Nash’s book, .

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