Not Finn’s thing. He’d rather handle the front end of things. So far the arrangement had been working great, his sister in the kitchen where Mom used to reign, and Evan nudging Pops gradually out of the smokehouse and into the office.
“Hey, Finn. You okay?”
“Yeah. Of course.” Finn grabbed the rail to the stairs, hovering as he waited to hear the lecture Pops had undoubtedly been holding on to for months now.
“Great. That’s great. Things still going okay behind the bar?” Nearly matched in height, Finn shared his father’s broad, athletic build, chocolate eyes that crinkled when they smiled. And, although Scott’s hair was dappled with gray, it was as thick as Finn’s chestnut.
“Actually, yeah. I like it.”
“That’s what I hear. Some of the regulars tell me you’re a natural.”
He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling the defiant cowlick. “I don’t know about that, but it suits me.”
“Great.” Uh-oh. Never a good sign when Pops was in bobble-head compliment mode. “If you need me to jump in and take on more so you can look for a coaching position or, you know, something that suits you better, just say the word.”
“Sure.” Nodding again, he stepped up to the next stair.
“Okay then.”
Finn stepped up a few more steps.
“Hey, Finn?”
Chuckling, Finn turned and leaned against the rail. “Yeah, Pops?” Lovably nosy, Scott’s crinkly eyes creased more heavily today. Pops scratched his fingers through his salt and pepper hair, grinning as he said, “I’ll quit harassing you in a minute. I worry.”
“I know, Pops.”
“I haven’t seen Trace around much. You two doing okay?”
Finn shrugged, a familiar hollow gnawing in his gut. “I guess.”
“I know you guys have a history. It made sense you’d reconnect when you got back to town, but, well…”
“I know, Pops. It seemed like the right thing to do when I came back. But, well…”
“It’s okay to take a break, let her know you weren’t ready.”
“I’ll talk to her.” Knowing Trace, she’d be understanding. Maybe they’d chat when she got back from her big trip.
When he’d come back to Foothills a few months ago, she’d stopped by to see how he was doing. She’d been checking in on his mom regularly anyway, so she’d waited until he’d been home a few days before interrupting.
He dashed the rest of the way up the stairs and tossed on his running clothes. He pulled on his knee brace and headed for the backdoor. He almost made it, when his watch chirped with an incoming call. Huh, speak of the devil.
Stepping outside so his dad and sis wouldn’t hear, he answered, “Yeah?”
Trace’s sweet voice vibrated through the tiny speaker of his smartwatch. “Hi, Finn. I’m flying out in a few days. I was hoping we could talk before I go?”
“Sure. I’m heading out for a run.” He could already hear the guilt oozing through her voice, but she wouldn’t do it over the phone.
“Are you working tonight?” Yep. He knew exactly why she wanted to meet up.
“Yeah. I want to get in a run first, so, uh—”
“Of course. No problem. I won’t keep you. Can I bring over coffee in the morning?”
“Sure.”
“You okay?”
