Page 26 of A Hard Fit (Falling Hard #2)

Sunset

Two months later

“It’s fine if you hate it,” Finn said, white-knuckling the sheet. “Honestly, totally fine. You can tell me. I won’t be offended. That’s the thing about art, it’s really a subj—”

“Finn,” Luka interrupted.

“Yeah?”

“Show me the fucking painting.”

Finn almost laughed despite the nerves clawing at his belly. He’d never done this before—set out to paint a portrait ofsomeone important to him, with a whole big reveal like this. But when he had seen Luka on stage for the first time, so fucking talented and gorgeous up there with the voice of an angel, strumming his guitar like a goddamn rock star, he’d known he needed to paint it.

“Come on, love,” Rory said, running a soothing hand over Finn’s back. “It’s brilliant. Let’s see it.”

“Okay. But—”

“Finn!” Rory and Luka cried in unison.

Thomas chuckled from where he was leaning against Rory’s desk, hands in his pockets.

Finn took a deep breath and pulled the sheet off. He couldn’t look at Luka’s face, so he stared at Thomas instead.

But that didn’t work, because Thomas’ face didn’t give much away. He was just watching Luka with soft, schmoopy eyes.

It was too quiet in the studio. Finn forced himself to look at the subject of his painting.

The subject had a hand pressed to his mouth, eyes big and watery.

“Uh…” Finn scrunched his face. “Do you…”

“I love it,” Luka said through a sob. “Is that really me?”

The four of them studied the canvas together. The shapes and colors suggested the outline of a man holding a guitar, eyes closed and singing his heart out, but all around him was magic—light and stars, shimmering golds and silvers and blue the same color as Luka’s eyes. The piece was titled Joy , because that was the only word for Luka up there.

Finn rubbed his beard. “Yeah, I—”

Luka threw himself at Finn and crushed him in a bear-hug. “Thank you.” His words were muffled in Finn’s shoulder.

Finn hugged him back. “You’re welcome.”

“It’s gorgeous, Finn,” Thomas said. “Really.”

Rory beamed at all of them.

Sniffling, Luka let go, then slid himself under Thomas’ arm.

Thomas pulled him close and kissed his cheek. “That’s exactly what you look like up there, you know.”

Luka gazed up at him with a smile that outshone the sun. “Do I?”

“Absolutely.”

They kissed properly, sweet and lingering.

“You two!” Finn grinned. “So fucking cute.”

Luka and Thomas blushed in unison.

“Nah,” Luka demurred with a hand wave.

“Please,” Finn said. “So cute I could puke.”

Luka and Thomas had finally—finally, finally —admitted their feelings for each other a few weeks earlier. It had gone right down to the wire in dramatic fashion—of course, since Luka was involved—mere minutes before Thomas was supposed to leave town for his next Breakpoint VP gig. They had kissed in the rain and everything, the whole fucking romantic movie finale.

And they had been inseparable and achingly adorable since.

“Hey, you know what?” Luka said, pulling out his phone. “Can I send a picture of this to the manager of the coffee shop? They have all kinds of work by local artists up on the wall. I bet you he’d love to display it.”

“Um…” Finn bit his lip. “I don’t know…”

“You don’t know?” Rory said. “You don’t know ? Finn! Love. I think it’s an amazing idea.”

“Really?”

Rory barked a laugh. “Yes, really. I’m going to keep telling you how gorgeous your work is and how everyone should see it, over and over, as many times as it takes to convince you.”

“You have to say that,” Finn grumbled. “You’re married to me.”

“There was nothing in our vows about that,” Rory said, eyes twinkling. “So you can trust me.”

Finn nodded and sucked in a deep breath. “Okay. Sure. You can send it to him. But tell him no pressure—”

“Done!” Luka said, thumbs already dispatching the message. “I’ll let you know what he says.”

“The food’s almost done,” Thomas reminded them with a look at this watch. “Is everyone ready to eat?”

The two couples had made dinner together—rigatoni with pan–roasted cauliflower and capers—except really Thomas had done most of the work. Finn’s mouth watered as they gathered around the dining room table, although his gaze was momentarily drawn from the feast to the wall behind their guests.

Cali and Bryson’s paintings were in the center, next to framed photos of the kids at Thrill Island. Finn and Rory’s wedding photos were beside those, including one with Luka and Thomas. There was an old picture of him and Liz that she had sent him, two kids smiling on the front step of the house they grew up in, the pair of them with matching scraped knees and lopsided smiles. A picture of the Barrett clan, rows of shining faces, and one of Finn and Rory from Halloween, so happy in their costumes.

The family wall. There was lots of space for it to keep growing.

The four of them dug into their dinner, cutlery clattering in the quiet that descends at the start of a good meal.

Luka broke the silence first. “I make the most amazing pasta,” he said wistfully. “Really, I’m so talented.”

Thomas raised an eyebrow. “Oh, are you?”

Luka booped him on the nose. “I sure am. You’re lucky to have me.”

Thomas shook his head, completely smitten. “That I am.”

Luka beamed at Thomas, cheeks flushed, eyes glittering. The man was drunk on love. “Oh, that reminds me,” he said, tearing his attention away from his boyfriend and back to his hosts, “do you two want to go to Montecalvo with us Saturday? Thought we’d have dinner at the pork pastry place.”

Finn was about to say ‘Sounds great!’ but Rory placed a gentle hand on his arm.

“Oh, we can’t. That would be lovely, but it’s Griffin’s birthday.”

Finn sighed. “Right.”

“How are family things going?” Luka asked Rory as he helped himself to a piece of garlic bread. “Has your mom settled down yet?”

Rory and Finn shared a look. Lainey had not taken the City Hall wedding news well.

“She’s still not…thrilled?” Rory said. “We’ve agreed to have a reception at the Cerulean next summer, but we’re holding strong on not doing another ceremony.”

Finn snorted. “‘Not thrilled’ is putting it mildly. There was a bit of a scene at Easter.”

Luka raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Let’s just say that this time, it was Griffin talking my mom out of the bathroom.”

Thomas tapped his chin. “I wonder whose mom was more pissed—Rory’s, when you told her you secretly got married, or Luka’s, when she found out Luka had lied about when we got together?”

Rory gaped at Luka. “You lied to your mom about that?”

“I merely… assumed that we were going to—” Luka gestured with his wine glass. “That is, I knew that we’d end up…” He took a sip and nodded. “Yeah, I lied.”

Thomas snickered. “We fake-dated for his parents at Easter.”

“You did not!” Finn cackled. “That’s amazing. How did she find out it was a sham?”

“Well, once it was official”—Luka smiled at Thomas—“I didn’t want to have to lie to my family about how or when we got together for the rest of our lives.”

Finn could practically hear Thomas’ heart skip a beat in the silence that followed.

“Luka…” Thomas said, emotion thick in his voice.

Luka looked at him shyly. “Sorry if that’s too much. But that’s how I feel.”

Thomas leaned over to kiss him. “I feel the same.”

Finn’s heart swelled with happiness for his friends. Seeing two people exactly right for each other end up together… He squeezed Rory’s knee under the table.

Luka cleared his throat and went back to his pasta, cheeks pink. “And are things getting any better with Jackson?”

Finn shrugged. “He didn’t say a word to me at Easter but…I guess that’s better than him being an outright asshole.”

“Speaking of assholes!” Luka cried, nearly choking on his food. “We forgot to tell you! We watched the final episode of season three!”

Rory smacked the table. “Can you believe it?”

“I swear to God…” Luka pressed a hand to his chest. “The whole time I thought the snake was acting up because of Ophy’s evil twin, but then…” He shook his head, lips pursed.

Finn chuckled. They had managed to get Luka and Thomas hooked on Godstrike . “Come on, the snake was just—”

“Do not defend that creature!” Luka howled. “He—” His phone buzzed. “Ooh!” Luka held it up, beaming. “Nam loves the painting! He says he’ll definitely display it, and he asked if you have a couple others, too.”

After the initial shock, the feeling in Finn’s chest was a strange one, like the fear that had been sitting there for so long was cracking, falling away piece by piece. “Yeah, I could do that.” He swallowed hard. “I’ve got a few in the garage…”

* * * *

One month later

“Here we are.” Finn’s truck rolled to a stop at the top of the long, winding dirt drive.

They stared out through the windshield for a beat, then another.

“It’s perfect,” Rory said, a little choked up.

The cabin was small and simple, but exactly what Finn had imagined when they’d planned their honeymoon. The weathered front porch faced a small mountain lake, where a rowboat waited at a rough dock.

They carried their bags inside and stood together in the doorway, taking in their home for the next eight days. The back half of the cabin contained a bedroom and bathroom, and the front didn’t hold much besides a wood-burning stove, a simple kitchen, a faded plaid couch and a tall shelf crammed with books as weathered as the building itself. They had electricity and plumbing, barely, but cell service had given out at the bottom of the drive.

“It’s perfect,” Rory repeated, floorboards creaking under their feet as they went to examine the bookshelf.

“Hmm, I don’t know…” Finn said, hands on hips. “We’d better check out the bedroom to be sure.”

Fortunately, the bed was sturdy. A little squeaky when Rory clutched the headboard, but there were no neighbors within shouting distance, so a little—or a lot—of noise wasn’t a problem.

“What do you want to do tomorrow?” Rory asked later, when they were naked and wound together like two sleepy puppies in a basket. “Hike? Paint?”

“Sure.” Finn kissed the paintbrush tattooed over Rory’s heart.

“Aren’t you excited to paint?” Rory asked, sliding their fingers through Finn’s hair. “The mountains, the trees… You’ll be so inspired. Plus, you have fans waiting for new work now.”

“‘Fans,’” Finn scoffed. “Hardly.”

“Yes, fans,” Rory insisted. “Especially Jackson.”

A smile twitched at the corner of Finn’s mouth. Okay, that was a little true, and it felt really good. Rory had talked Finn into giving Griffin a painting for his birthday…and Jackson had gone nuts for it.

“You painted that?” Jackson had asked as the family stood around admiring Finn’s work. The gears turning in Jackson’s head were practically visible.

“Yeah,” Finn had said. The painting was titled Brother . Finn had tried to imbue the bold, shining lines with a sense of vulnerability and uncertainty.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Rory had asked.

“Yeah, listen…” Jackson had scratched his chin. “We’re redecorating the office at the plant and I’d love to have a piece or two like this.”

Finn had managed to keep his jaw from hitting the floor. “Um…”

“Sorry,” Rory had cut in. “Finn’s showing his work right now, so inventory is a little low. But we could maybe sell you something down the road.”

Jackson had pouted the rest of the night. Finn smiled at the memory.

“Or…” Rory continued in their bed, wrapping a curl around their finger. “We could stay right here all day?”

“Yes.” Finn kissed the letter ‘F’ Rory had added to the tattooed vines on their arm. “Anything you want, my love.” They had a whole week of days ahead and Finn didn’t care how those days were filled, as long as Rory was with him.

So, they did all those things and more—hiked, painted, sat by the campfire, read, stayed in bed for hours, took the boat out—together. On their last night, they climbed into the rowboat for one last turn around the lake, just as the sun was setting.

Finn pushed off the dock, then settled across from Rory on the bench, oars in hand. The water lapped against the boat as it slid through the water, the only sound besides frogs chirping at them from the reeds.

“So romantic,” Rory said dreamily, reaching down to trail their fingers through the water. The curve of their long white neck, the shining ripples in the water… A firefly flickered near the shore. Finn filed the image away for a future painting.

“It reminds me of…” Rory looked up and froze. “Finn, look at the sunset.”

Finn turned to look over his shoulder. The sky above the mountains was lit up in fiery pinks and oranges, so bright it looked like brushstrokes on a canvas. “Stunning,” Finn said. “You were so right about this trip being inspiring for paint—”

He trailed off because Rory was staring at him, eyes wide with wonder.

“What?” Finn asked self-consciously.

“Your hair…” Rory breathed, reaching to touch Finn’s curls like they were on display at a museum. “It’s catching the light from the sunset and…you’re on fire.”

Finn took Rory’s other hand and threaded their fingers together. “I burn for you, Rory.”

They kissed, one silhouette dark against the orange glow.