Page 20 of One Chance to Stay (Bears of Firefly Valley #4)

I knocked.

Other than the lights inside the house, it was almost impossible to see anything else. Flurries had started, and for a moment, I had flashbacks crossing the field to reach Seamus’s front door. Every time I thought about it, a shiver worked its way down my spine and into my toes.

He opened the door. Or at least a man who looked like Seamus did.

“Who are you and what have you done with Seamus?”

The wild hair on his head had been trimmed tight to the scalp. Any closer and he’d have a shine. Even his beard had been cut, giving it a nice rounded curve that showed off the apples of his cheeks. The button-down blue shirt and pair of pressed jeans completed the look.

His eyes remained focused on the wooden floorboard. We might have spent a night naked, but it had been in the throes of drunken passion. I wouldn’t have called it our first date, and by the look of things, neither would Seamus.

I complimented the men at the bar. Nightly, I’d give them winks, boost their egos, and make them feel like a million bucks. My bravado escaped out the door before Seamus shut it.

“You look handsome.”

He mumbled.

“What?”

He glanced up for a split second. “You do, too.”

Three words were all his strength could muster, and it had worked. I wanted to kiss him , to grab hold of that beard and pull him close and see what he wore under those jeans. I managed a modicum of composure.

Instead, I held up a canvas bag. “Simon was kind enough to prepare a lasagna for us.” With no prep for dinner, it’d give us a chance to sit down and talk. Or at least I’d be able to talk. I expected Seamus to nod, grunt, and mumble.

Not waiting for him to offer, I walked down the hallway toward his kitchen. I set our dinner on the counter. Opening the bag, I could smell the mix of cheese and… oh, he made garlic bread as well? I took the loaf out and spotted a sticky note attached to the lasagna.

“Enjoy your date. 350 for 45. XOXO.”

A second later, I slid the lasagna into the oven and turned the dial. Seamus had leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. Guarded as the first day we met, I realized scaling the fortress walls wouldn’t be a one-and-done situation. I wandered closer, his eyes watching like a hawk.

“We’ve got some time.” Resting a hand on his forearm, his body language changed. Rigid shoulders eased, and as quickly as our skin made contact, his eyes turned down. “Are you going to be a gentleman and offer me a drink?”

He scoffed, arms dropping as he turned around. I stifled a gasp as his hand reached back. The enormity of the gesture wasn’t lost on me. As if a limited time offer, my hand thrust forward, holding onto his pinky. I followed him, a death grip refusing to let go.

“Have a seat.” His hand guided me toward the living room.

I took a seat at the end of the couch. He’d sit across the room in the recliner.

No. Turning, I positioned myself so that it made the most sense to join me on the couch.

If we were going to talk, I wanted proximity.

Was it bad that I wished his couch were a loveseat, forcing us to brush against one another while we waited for dinner?

He returned with drinks. He offered me one, and for a moment, I watched his face as he considered his recliner. Yes! A minor victory as he chose the couch, middle seat. He sat within reach, the rigidity returning to his body.

“Relax,” I said. “I promise I won’t bite.”

“I- I-”

Nerves. Something about the situation made him uncomfortable. A little bartender magic and the ability to plow through awkwardness, I’d bridge this gap.

“Grace came to Firefly with some great news.”

He nodded. No, smile, but I’d take it as a win. “She gets excited whenever an adoption happens.” His fingers fidgeted on his glass. “She insists on stopping by. Says she misses her dad, but I know she’s checking up on me.”

“She sounds an awful lot like her father.” I sniffed the glass, taking in the hints of pine. “Wonder if she’s as stubborn?” The liquid burned as I took a sip.

“She gets that from her mother.”

“Her mother?” I raised an eyebrow. “Maybe her gift for talking, but I think she got stubborn from dear old dad.” His eyes narrowed. “Is her mum…” I let the words hang in the air, worried I had stepped on toes.

“She lives in Millinocket.” I held my tongue, letting Seamus decide how much he wanted to share. “We divorced.”

I didn’t press. “I was polite this time. When I see her next, I’m going to ask for all the dirt. I bet she has some great stories about her father.”

Seamus sat quietly, his hands resting in his lap as he mindlessly spun the glass, swirling its contents. He sat close, but the inches separating us might as well have been miles. I could hear Walter’s voice, encouraging me to not give up.

“Are you going to Walter’s wedding?” No nod. “What? Not going to see Walter get hitched? You’d be missing out on Harvey giving away his bestie. Those two men… Walter’s wife doesn’t know what she’s getting herself into.”

“I’m not a fan of crowds.”

I had been surprised he attended the bachelor party.

Even a small crowd made him uncomfortable.

He hadn’t joined them for the football game.

Even amongst his friends , he preferred the solitude.

I wondered if this agoraphobia had always been there, or did it come as a result of living in the sticks?

“I bet you look handsome in a suit.”

He looked up from his glass. “Will you be there?”

Somewhere between the fifth and tenth shot of tequila, Walter had invited me to attend his special day. I’m pretty sure I accepted before slamming another drink. Though as I tried to piece together the evening, things turned increasingly fuzzy. Never again. Age had lowered my tolerance.

“I suppose if I can find a date.” Seamus didn’t pick up on the suggestion. “I hear you’re free.”

Like Bigfoot in the wild, I thought I spotted his lip turn upward.

It seemed as if Firefly might know Seamus’s secret, or at least I think this is what they meant.

I still didn’t know if he’d be comfortable with the idea.

Heck, what would Jason, Amanda, and Jon say if I showed up, arm linked with this grizzly wolf?

“Seamus Finnigan.” I scooted closer. When my hand rested on his shoulder, his attention turned back to me. “Would you be my date to Walter’s wedding?”

Before he could mumble a reply, I broke out laughing. The suspicion in his glance only fueled the fire.

“Sorry.” I wiped the tears from my eyes. “I just realized that’s the first time I asked a man on a date.”

“Really?”

“This.” I gestured between us. “That.” I pointed at the ceiling. “It’s all new to me. I work at a gay bar, but I’ve never… You know.” Hell, even talking about it, my face turned red. “This is uncharted territory.”

“I didn’t mean?—”

Leaning forward, I covered his mouth with my hand. “I’m a big boy, and I make my own decisions. I’m glad it happened.”

Seamus held still, every exhale dampening my hand. He reached up, taking my hand by the fingers. His lips touched my knuckles. Soft. Warm. Tender. He kissed them four times, once along each knuckle. He provided no verbal confirmation, but when he didn’t let go of my hand, I interpreted.

I set my drink on the coffee table. I wrangled the glass from his death grip, setting it next to mine.

Crawling over the couch, I threw a leg over his lap.

Seamus’s eyes went wide in disbelief, as if I were violating his sacred space.

The crotch of my pants tightened, not giving me the stretch I needed to make it comfortable.

I shifted, trying to get myself into place to straddle him. He let out a huff as my knee landed on his groin. I’d need practice. This required more skill when the other person didn’t have a petite frame. Not perfect, but as I settled in, resting on his lap, I smiled.

“We’ll work on the execution.”

“You are bad at this.”

“Shh.” With a finger on his lips, his eyes crossed, trying to look at it.

I leaned forward, awkwardly smooshing my lips against his.

Wrong angle. Bad position. This served as the anthem for our time together.

Seamus moved his hands to my hips, giving them a tight squeeze as he returned the kiss.

He tasted like whiskey and… man. Manly smells.

I only stopped when I had to come up for air.

For a moment, his eyes remained closed, and he appeared almost serene.

Knowing I did that made my heart thump against my ribcage.

When they opened, he wasn’t staring downward.

His gaze locked with mine, and whatever confusion might be swirling in the back of his head vanished. We existed in this moment.

“Me too,” he whispered.

“Huh?”

That beautiful man made an audible gulp. “Glad it happened.”

The confession meant more than any smile. Seamus, in his own way, opened the door. I don’t think he’d ever bare his soul, but as long as I paid attention, there’d be glimmers.

Ding. Ding. Ding. Never had I been angry at a meal, but I didn’t want to get up. I was hungry, but not enough to pull away.

“We should get that,” I said.

“We should.” Neither of us moved.

“Or…”

“Or?”

“We skip dinner.”

“But…” When he spotted my grin, his eyes went wide. “Oh.”

I slid off him, extending a hand. Unlike before, he didn’t drop his gaze. As he hesitated, I could see the remnants of uncertainty. I thought his reluctance had everything to do with me, but maybe there was something deeper at play.

I grabbed his hands and pulled him to his feet. As I led him to the stairs, he paused. Seamus grumbled as he went into the kitchen and poked at buttons on the stove. He returned, still mumbling.

“Can’t have you burn the house down.” I expected nothing less.

I chuckled as I took his hand, pulling him up the stairs.