Then Finn chuckled and returned Cory to the stroller. “It’s Halloween, not April Fools’ Day, and I asked for a treat, not a trick.”
Oh boy.
I rubbed the back of my neck and felt that my hand was clammy. “I’m serious, mate. It’s been, uh…going on for a while.”
That killed his humor, and he looked to Shan.
I had no choice but to do the same, and it was fucking frustrating to find him smiling at little Reagan. Like, could he fucking focus?
“Dad?” Finn pressed.
“Hmm? Oh.” Shan handed the baby back to Emilia. “It’s true, son. We’ve kept it private because of my depression. But the fog’s been lifting for a while, and we felt it was time to tell the family.”
Finn stared at us with an unreadable expression.
Holy fuck, he was gonna hate me.
“We became…more, so to speak, during our vacation last year,” Shan said. “In Spain, to be more accurate.”
Could Finn say something already?! He flicked his stare back to me for a fraction of a second, and then he shook his head and grinned. A laugh followed, then a few more.
“You’re fucking with me,” he laughed. “Man, I almost fell for—”
“Honey.” Emilia tugged at the sleeve of his shirt and pointed at something. I followed her aim and spotted a picture. It was the one she had taken of us at their house, right before Shan and I went to the symphony together that first time. Shan kept the photo in an antique silver frame right behind his reading lamp on the side table. She gestured to one of the bookcases next. “There’s more over there.”
Vacation photos mingling with the books. One of my favorites was from Andorra; we’d been hiking in the mountains, and I’d run up to him, kissed his cheek, and snapped off a selfie.
“Jesus Christ.” Finn appeared almost nauseated, and that was the hardest blow. He left our side and started checking out the other pictures in the living room, before he went into the dining room and came back with wide eyes.
Shan had hung countless photos on the wall in there.
Finn continued down a hallway, where he would find our bedroom. A king-sized bed, photos of us on the nightstands, a shared walk-in closet with two entrances. An en suite bathroom with our toothbrushes next to each other.
“I’m really happy for you guys.” Emilia snuck over to me and wrapped her arms around my middle. “You deserve a lifetime of happiness.”
I hugged her back but couldn’t form words.
“I’ll go talk to him,” Shan said quietly. But before he could take a step, Finn reemerged.
“There’s a photo in there of your fucking hands with rings,” he said. His eyes immediately dropped to Shan’s hands. “You’re fucking married?!”
“No!” I blurted out.
“No, we’re not,” Shan replied firmly. “We’ve… It’s a symbol. It’s for us. We’re not married—nor properly engaged. It was a sweet gesture from Kellan. He’ll know for certain when…” He managed to shoot me a wry smirk before he got back on track. “If I propose.”
Oh. Yeah, way too soon to smile now.
Shan sighed and walked over to Finn. “I’d understand if you feel it’s soon—”
“That ain’t it.” Finn folded his arms over his chest and stared at the floor. “It’s been four years since we lost Ma. I get it. But mother of fuckin’ God, Pop. Since when are you gay? And you had to go for that fucking gobshite? He’s like my brother! He’s half your age.” He gritted his teeth and swung his increasingly angry stare my way. “You—I’m not as surprised by you. You’re into old fuckers.”
“Hey.” Shan got offended.
I pinched my lips together and felt an incredible relief wash over me. Anger, I could handle. Finn on an angry rant was all right. As long as he didn’t feel betrayed or hurt or disappointed.
“I can’t believe this.” He scrubbed his hands over his face and groaned loudly. “My dad and my best friend. Someone shoot me in the fucking face.”
Emilia and I snorted.
“Oh my God.” He dropped his hands to his sides, and he stared incredulously at me. “I did this. This is because of me, isn’t it? I practically shoved youse together. I pushed for the vacation.”
Yes, let’s go with—
“For chrissakes.” Shan rolled his eyes. “No, Finnegan, you did not cause my feelings for Kellan to do a 180. He did that all by himself.”
“I think I’m innocent in all this.” I put a hand on my chest for emphasis.
Both O’Shea men shot me looks that told me to shut my fucking mouth.
I shut my fucking mouth.
“Oh fuck…” Finn paled all of a sudden, and now it was definitely nausea he was feeling. “When we were in Italy a few years ago—oh God. Pat and I were joking around, and it led to you saying that Pat wasn’t your type. And I wasn’t your type either. And you said…”