The Comeback Kiss (43 page)

Hmmm. Maybe there was something to drinking after all. He raised his glass to Surly. “
Keep
’
em coming.”

A hand landed on the ten and pushed it back toward Fin
n.

“
I
’
ll cover that.”

Finn glanced up. “
Mr. Dale.”

Mr. Dale smiled. The glass eye was actually a quality piece of work. As a matter of fact, if he hadn
’
t known to look for it, Finn might not have even noticed.

Mr. Dale settled onto the bar stool next to Fi
nn
’
s. “
I heard you were back in town.”

“
Funny thing about rumors,”
Finn said as Surly poured another round. “
On occasion, they
’
re true.”

Mr. Dale chuckled lightly. “
I
’
m glad I bumped into you. I never got the chance to thank you.”

Thank me for what?
Finn t
hought, but a split second later he put it together. Tessa. The money. Helping people. Glass eye.

“
So,”
Mr. Dale said, “
thank you.”

“
It was nothing,”
Finn said, which was true, since Finn had nothing to do with helping Tony Dale.

That was all Tessa.

Tessa.
Who loved him. Who, for whatever reasons beyond all logic and common sense, loved him. The only woman Finn had never been able to shake told him she loved him and he said... nothing.

Finn downed the second whiskey.

“
It wasn
’
t nothing.”
Mr. Dale took a sip
of his beer, then settled it down on the napkin in front of him. “
It meant a lot that you
’
d help me out, especially after I almost flunked you in geometry.”

Finn chuckled. “
Yeah, you almost did that, didn
’
t you?”
He clinked his glass with Mr. Dale
’
s. “
Can
I ask you a question, Mr. Dale?”

“
Sure. I guess.”

Shut up,
Finn thought to himself, but he kept going. “
You know how there are women, and then there are
women
?”

Mr. Dale gave a brief smile, then waved to Surly. “
I think we
’
re gonna need another round her
e.”

“
So, here
’
s the thing, Mr. Dale
—”

“
You can call me Tony, you know,”
Mr. Dale said.

Finn looked at him for a moment, tried to imagine his old geometry teacher as
Tony.

“
No, I really can
’
t.”
He took another sip of his drink. “
Mr. Dale, there are a lot of
women in the world.”

Mr. Dale nodded. “
Yep. Sure are.”

“
And they
’
re great. Pretty, funny, smart. Great. Right?”

“
Yep.”

“
And then...”
Finn shook his head. “
Then there
’
s the girl... the woman...”
He clenched his fist, then released it. “
The one that makes
you crazy. The one that makes every breath so fucking hard, but even if you only got one moment with her a day, she
’
d still be worth it.”

Mr. Dale sipped his beer, sighed knowingly. “
Yep.”

“
You can
’
t be with her, you can
’
t
not
be with her...”
Finn sighed,
shook his head.

“
I
’
m sorry,”
Mr. Dale said after a moment. “
Was there a question in there somewhere?”

Surly set another Jameson
’
s in front of Finn, and Mr. Dale dropped some more cash on the bar. Both men lifted their glasses and drank.

“
She told me she l
oved me,”
Finn said after a moment, “
and I didn
’
t say anything.”

“
Well,”
Mr. Dale said thoughtfully, “
do you love her?”

“
I
’
m sitting at a bar drinking Irish whiskey and pouring my heart out to a one-eyed geometry teacher,”
Finn said. “
It
’
s not looking goo
d for Finnegan.”

Mr. Dale laughed. “
No, it
’
s not.”
He took another sip of his beer. “
Listen, Finn. I
’
ve been dating for a very long time, and in all these years, I
’
ve learned exactly one thing about women.”

“
Yeah?”
Finn twirled his whiskey under his finger
s. “
Then you
’
re one up on me. What is it?”

“
It
’
s not what you say, it
’
s what you do.”

Finn took a second to absorb this. “
Yeah? You think?”

“
Hell, yeah,”
Mr. Dale said, suddenly animated. “
Look, we say stuff to women all the time. We say we
’
ll call them,
then we don
’
t. We tell them they
’
re beautiful, then we spend the evening looking at other women. We say we don
’
t love them when we do, and we say we do when we don
’
t. Christ, if I was a woman, I wouldn
’
t listen to a goddamn thing any man ever said to me.”

“
You make a good point there, Mr. Dale,”
Finn said, “
but it doesn
’
t help me. See, the only way for me to show how much I love her is to get out of her life.”

Mr. Dale went quiet for a bit, then shrugged. “
Well, then, you
’
re pretty much fucked.”

“
Yep.”

They
each stared off into space for a while.

“
So, what happened to yours?”

“
My what?”
Mr. Dale said. “
My woman?”

“
Yeah.”

Mr. Dale sighed. “
She married an ophthalmologist.”

Finn was horrified. “
A what?”

Mr. Dale gave an ironic snort. “
An eye doctor.”

Finn star
ed at Mr. Dale, and clarity suddenly fell over him. In that moment, he knew with more certainty than he
’
d ever known anything in his life that he did not want Tessa to marry an ophthalmologist. His heart started beating erratically, and he couldn
’
t sit st
i
ll. He hopped off the bar stool and clapped Mr. Dale on the shoulder. “
I gotta run. Thanks for the drinks, man.”

Mr. Dale continued to stare out into the middle distance. “
Yeah. No problem.”

Finn walked out of the bar and into the cold air, breathing it in
deep, hoping it would smack the effects of the alcohol down. He had to find Tessa. He didn
’
t know what he
’
d say to her once he did, but he could cross that bridge when he came to it. He knew he couldn
’
t be with her, couldn
’
t stay, but damned if he was go
i
ng to let her marry a fucking ophthalmologist.

He stopped where he was, at the edge of the Riker
’
s parking lot, and realized he
’
d fully lost his mind. He couldn
’
t talk to Tessa like this. If he did, he
’
d screw things up even worse. No, the thing to do was
hike into town, hole up at the shack, something
—
anything
—
that would keep him away from Tessa until morning, when he
’
d gotten his sanity back.

Which would have been a good plan if the Thing hadn
’
t pulled into the parking lot at just that second, whipping in
to a spot at the side of the building and trapping Finn in the glare of its headlights. He froze there, momentarily blinded as the lights shut off. By the time his eyes adjusted, she was standing in front of him, leaning against the grille of the car.

“
Whe
re the hell have you been?”
Tessa said. “
I came back, Izzy told me you
’
d run out. I
’
ve been looking for you all night.”

Finn stuck his hands in his pockets and laughed a weird, nervous laugh. Christ, he was gonna mess this up bad.

“
Well, you found me. I
’
m
fine. Everything
’
s fine.”
He glanced around. “
I
’
m just gonna go for a walk, or something. See you tomorrow.”

Her eyebrows twitched toward each other, and she pushed herself up off the grille of the car and walked toward him.

“
Are you drunk?”

“
Pffft,”
he sc
offed, then shrugged. “
Mr. Dale bought me a whiskey, yeah.”

A smile spread over her face, and her eyes seemed lit from within. How had he never noticed that about her before?

“
Tony Dale bought you drinks?”
she asked.

Finn chuckled. “
You can call him Tony?
See, I couldn
’
t do that.”

Tessa shrugged. “
I
’
ve known him as an adult a lot longer than you have.”

Their eyes met and held for a moment. A slight smile curled on one side of her face. God, she took his breath away.

“
You
’
re so beautiful,”
he whispered, reac
hing up and touching her face with the backs of his fingers and it felt so good, she felt
so good.
He leaned forward until their foreheads were touching.

“
Don
’
t marry the ophthalmologist,”
he said.

“
What?”
She pulled back, looking at him like he was crazy,
and the moment was broken. “
Okay, Hoss. I
’
m taking you home. We
’
ll come back for the other car tomorrow.”

“
I love you, Tessa.”
He breathed it more than said it, but he knew she heard it, because she took a step away from him and stared at him with an unr
eadable expression.

“
Are you kidding me?”
she said. Then, louder, “
Are you
kidding
me?”

Suddenly, the expression was readable. She was pissed off.

“
Tessa
—”

“
No,”
she said, waving her finger at him. “
No. You do not get to go out, get drunk, and say that to
me.”

“
That
’
s not
—”
Finn started, then regrouped. “
Well, okay, that
is
what happened, but I
’
m not just saying this because I
’
m drunk.”

“
Then why?”
She put her hand to her forehead, closed her eyes, and sighed. “
I can
’
t deal with this right now. Look, Finn,
if you have to come here and get stoked up on tequila
—”

“
Irish whiskey, actually.”

“
Whatever
,”
she said through clenched teeth. “
If you have to get drunk in order to tell me you love me, then you don
’
t love me. So let
’
s just drop it, okay?”