Totally His Read online

  “So you’re auditioning,” Colin clarified. “For the lead.”

  Well, if the lead was going to be kissing—or dancing with, touching, or smelling—Sophia Birch, then yeah. But he wasn’t just auditioning. He was getting that part.

  “Definitely,” he said.

  He was here to put this theater back together for his mother. And there was no way in hell he was going to be able to be in that theater and watch Sophie kiss anyone else.

  He didn’t even care that he was acting like a jealous kid fighting over a shiny new bike. The bike didn’t belong to anyone. It was just there. Looking gorgeous and up for grabs. And he probably shouldn’t ever admit to anyone that he’d compared Sophie to a bike.

  And if Tripp was a good friend, he’d get Finn out of here. Now. Before he did anything else ridiculously stupid. Finally Finn turned to look at his friend.

  Tripp was grinning like an idiot. Until he met Finn’s gaze. Then he also straightened, cleared his throat, and lost his stupid grin. “Hey, Finn, we should get going if we’re going to pick up the rest of the supplies we need,” Tripp said, as if reading Finn’s mind.

  “Yeah, probably.” Finn looked at his mother. “We need some more…stuff…for the wall.”

  “So auditions will be tomorrow night then,” Colin said. “We don’t have a lot of time.”

  Finn nodded. “I’ll be here.”

  “What did you just do?” Tripp asked as they hit the sidewalk and the door closed behind them.

  As if the spell had been broken the moment he was out of sight of Sophie, Finn was suddenly wondering the same damned thing. He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Fuck, man, I don’t know.”

  “Well, it looked to me like you offered to measure your dick against Colin’s on a stage in front of a bunch of firefighters.”

  That was pretty much exactly what he’d just offered to do.

  “Of course there will be cops there too,” Tripp said.

  Yeah, Finn had figured that. “What am I going to do?” He couldn’t play the romantic lead in a play. Hell, he couldn’t play any kind of anything in a play.

  “Well you have to show up now.” Tripp opened the door to the passenger side of Finn’s truck. “And you can’t blow it.”

  Finn slammed his door behind him. “How the hell am I not going to blow this?”

  Tripp looked over with a grin. “I think you’ll be okay.”

  “What?” Finn asked, bracing for his friend to tell him what a dumbass he was.

  “It’s the romantic lead opposite Sophie Birch.”

  “So?”

  “So that means you basically have to act like you’re crazy about her.”

  Finn scowled at him. “This isn’t helping.”

  Tripp laughed. “I saw how you looked at her. If the part requires you to act like a lovesick teenager, you’ve got it wrapped up.”

  Finn started the truck and shifted it into gear. He’d known Tripp for eight years. They’d been partners for five. Tripp had saved his ass a dozen times. And vice versa. There was absolutely no lying to the man. Or denying that the man was telling him the truth.

  “Colin has a thing for her too,” he decided to mention. And Colin was his brother. But his mother didn’t want either of them with her.

  “Well, she didn’t look at him the way I look at chocolate-dipped bacon.”

  He thought about that. “She looked at me like that?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  Chocolate-dipped bacon. Huh. That was Tripp’s favorite thing in the world. Like he’d-give-his-left-nut-for-it favorite thing in the world.

  Finn pulled onto the street, telling himself to keep his damned mouth shut for a change. But by the time they’d pulled into the hardware store parking lot, he couldn’t help it. “She really looked at me like that?”

  * * *

  What had just happened?

  Sophie watched the door bump shut behind Finn and Tripp as they left the theater.

  Things had gotten way out of hand really quickly. That was what had happened.

  Maya’s comment about the guys being so easy to watch and then all of them hamming it up onstage had finally made the idea that had been floating around in Sophie’s mind click into a place. A play. With the firefighters and cops. And then Maya had said it out loud. And the guys had jumped on the idea. Well, Colin had jumped on the idea. But the rest had seemed willing. Or willing-ish at least.

  But then Finn had jumped on the idea too. Or something. She didn’t think he was actually chomping at the bit to audition for the lead role in a romantic stage play. But he hadn’t seemed to like the idea of Colin doing it either.

  Sophie noticed Angie starting up the middle aisle as the guys all got back to work on the wall.

  “Angie, can I talk to you for a minute?” Sophie called after her friend.

  Angie turned back. “Of course.”

  Sophie made her way off the stage and followed Angie partway up the side aisle. “I’m so excited we’re going to be doing Tony and Angel,” Sophie told her when they stopped where Angie and Finn had been talking. “You’re sure it’s okay?”

  Angie gave her a bright smile. “Of course it’s okay.”

  Tony and Angel was the script Sophie had rescued from the fire. It was Angie’s play. The story of her falling in love with her husband, Tommy.

  “I think it’s wonderful that your boys want to be involved,” Sophie added, gauging Angie’s reaction.

  Angie sighed. “I hope so.”

  “You don’t seem convinced.”

  “I just…I knew this would happen. They’d all come down here and mess everything up.”

  It didn’t feel like things were messed up, but Sophie nodded. “I wasn’t expecting this. But it’s…fine.”

  “It’s not fine.” Angie’s gaze was on the crowd of people behind Sophie. “You wanted to be kept out of all of this, and I understand why, but now…this.” She sighed.

  “Angie, really, they’re just trying to help. I appreciate it. As soon as the theater is back together, they’ll move on. I know that. I don’t have any big expectations here.”

  Angie’s eyes found hers again. She seemed to hesitate and then asked, “Can I be honest with you?”

  Sophie felt her gut tighten. “Of course.”

  “My family…my boys in particular…Finn in very particular…don’t understand acting.”

  Sophie swallowed. “You’ve mentioned that they’re not really into live theater before.”

  “I don’t mean the theater scene,” Angie said. She seemed to be trying to figure out how to say what she wanted to say. “I mean biting their tongues, fudging the truth, telling white lies, having a poker face. Finn can’t not demonstrate exactly how he feels and say exactly what he thinks.”

  Sophie couldn’t help it—she liked that. A lot. She loved not having to guess and not having to try to read someone else’s thoughts and feelings. “Is that a bad thing?”

  Angie shook her head. “Generally no.”

  “I value honesty, Angie,” Sophie said. “Deeply. After all those years with my dad, not knowing if what he was saying was true or if it was to get something out of someone, I would love spending time with people who just let it all out.”

  Angie’s expression softened into an affectionate smile. “I think that’s true on a level,” she said. “But honey, you don’t like personal relationships. You do, however, love connecting with people. That’s what you do here. It’s a way of interacting with people. And you get to laugh and cry and get angry and fall in love. But it’s safe because you’re playing a part. And you have a script. You know what to expect. You know what they’re going to say and do, and you know how to react, because it’s written down right in front of you.”

  Sophie pulled in a long breath and let it out slowly. That was all…exactly right.

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “After all those years of guessing what was going to happen next and having your life dictated by someone else a
nd everything up in the air and subject to change on a dime, here you feel in control.”

  Angie wasn’t wrong. This place was not just the way Sophie made a living. It was also where she got to have full control, where she was the director, where she wrote the stories. Most importantly, where she wrote how those stories ended.

  “I want you to hold on to this theater,” Angie said. “I want you to have more in your life too, of course. But you need this place and I want to help be sure you always have it.”

  “Thank you,” Sophie said softly.

  Angie smiled.

  “But I don’t understand what that has to do with your family being here and Finn being a really honest guy,” she said.

  “Well, you love the control and knowing what comes next. You also get to tell people when they’re overdoing it.”

  “Okay.”

  “None of that will happen with my family,” Angie said drily.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing happens according to any kind of plan or schedule with the Kellys. There are no scripts, and they rarely do what’s expected. They don’t hold back. It’s…chaos…about ninety percent of the time.”

  Sophie smiled. “It’s just until the theater is cleaned up and the show is done.”

  Angie didn’t look convinced. “They’re all very unpredictable.”

  “Even Finn? He seems very steady and predictable,” Sophie said, without thinking. But it was true that the big, sexy cop seemed the epitome of stability.

  Angie frowned. “Well, that’s what has me worried the most. He is. He’s the rock, he’s the one that keeps everyone else grounded, the one we can count on, the guy behind the scenes. So imagine my surprise when he said he was going to audition for a play. A leading role in a play, no less.”

  Sophie’s heart thumped. “You really think he’s going to audition?”

  “Between Colin challenging him and your big blue eyes?” Angie said with a little laugh. “Yes.”

  “And that would be bad.” Sophie didn’t ask it as a question. It would be bad. Because she and Finn would spend more time together then. A lot more time.

  Angie must have seen something in her face. “He’s drawn to drama.” She laughed lightly. “Ironic since this whole theater thing isn’t really his cup of tea. But he does love real-life drama. He’ll say he doesn’t,” she added, “and he’ll say he wants a break from the family’s issues and melodrama. But it’s not true. He likes to be the calm in the eye of the storm and the guy that keeps things from going totally off the rails.”

  If that was the case, Finn wouldn’t be able to resist getting involved with Sophie. Because in spite of her best efforts at a normal, even-keel, happy life, Frank was back in town, and her livelihood had almost burned down, and she needed money like yesterday, and she now had an entire herd of people stomping around her theater and a new production to put together in only a month’s time with a bunch of amateurs. And the two sons of one of her best friends fighting over her. That was all definitely very dramatic.

  “So we shouldn’t do the show?” Sophie asked her.

  Angie sighed. “I really like the idea of putting the firefighters onstage,” Angie said. “I do think that will be a draw, and I think we can get you the money you need. I also like the idea of showing these guys what theater is all about.”

  Sophie smiled. She and Angie shared a passion for introducing people to the theater. “So we should do the show?”

  Angie nodded. “I think we should.”

  “You’re really okay with us doing your show with your family?” Sophie asked.

  “I am. I guess,” Angie said. “I mean, they’re here now. There’s no getting rid of them once they get excited about something.”

  “And Finn in the leading role?” Sophie asked.

  Angie shrugged. “Well, he did take really good care of those dachshunds.”

  Sophie raised an eyebrow. “Dachshunds?”

  “He’s always there when someone needs him,” Angie said. “I got involved with the dogs, fell in love, got in over my head, and he fixed it.”

  Sophie felt her heart thump again. She didn’t need fixing. She would figure all of this out for herself. As always. But she wouldn’t mind having Finn Kelly around a little longer.

  “So I’m like a dachshund?” Sophie teased.

  But Angie didn’t smile. “You’re something that’s important to me, so you’ll automatically be important to Finn.”

  Ah, okay. Finn would be interested in her and her problems because of Angie. And nothing more. Good to know.

  “Well, don’t worry,” Sophie said, forcing a smile. “I think in this analogy the theater and this play are the dachshund.”

  Angie seemed to consider that. “Maybe,” she finally said. “But you should know that he still has one of the dachshunds.”

  Sophie felt her stomach flip but then realized she wasn’t surprised by that at all. “So he gets easily sucked in.”

  “He puts his whole heart into the things he does.”

  She cleared her throat. Twice. “Okay, well, maybe Colin is a better choice since he’s done theater before. Or even one of the other guys.” Colin, after all, seemed to really want the part. Finn was just auditioning to be generous…and maybe to annoy his brother. And maybe someone else would step up and knock her socks off. That would actually be great. Not being enamored with a guy who very likely saw her as a community service project would be great.

  Angie pulled her into a hug. “I love you, you know.”

  Sophie squeezed her back as the words did what they always did—seeped into her heart and made her feel warm and wanted. And Sophie was reminded that with Angie it was about even more than feeling loved. It was being able to love Angie back without fearing having her heart broken. She didn’t have to worry about Frank picking them up and moving them away. She didn’t have to worry about that inevitable day when Frank screwed up and the tears and accusations started. She didn’t have to worry about losing Angie. Ever.

  At least as long as she didn’t get involved with Finn.

  * * *

  Finn hadn’t auditioned. She was disappointed. She shouldn’t be, she knew. It was better this way. Or at least things would be easier. But Sophie had kind of wanted him to want to audition.

  She made her way through the lobby on the way to the office. Then stopped and cocked her head. Was someone still here? She headed down the hallway, the noise growing louder as she neared the greenroom.

  The TV was on. Someone must have forgotten it. But as her hand connected with the doorknob, she realized who was inside. She pushed the door open. Sure enough, Frank was stretched out on the couch, feet up on the arm, watching television. And the room smelled like lasagna.

  She planted her hands on her hips. “Seriously?”

  Frank looked over from where he was stretched out on the couch, feet up on the arm, a plastic container that had been full of lasagna balanced on his stomach. The container now only held a plastic fork and a few streaks of tomato sauce.

  “Hey, honey.”

  Sophie walked into the room. “You ate my leftovers?”

  “They were amazing.” He pushed up to a sitting position.

  He held out the container to her. The empty container. Her stomach growled, and she realized this was her own fault. She never should have left the lasagna in the fridge. She should have known Frank would go poking around.

  “That was my dinner,” she informed him, crossing her arms. She certainly wasn’t going to clean up after him. “I take it you decided to stay here?”

  He set the container on the floor by his feet. “You wouldn’t be making meatloaf anytime soon, would you? I love your meatloaf.”

  Her meatloaf recipe was actually Nancy’s meatloaf recipe. Stepmother number four. And it was definitely amazing. “I didn’t make the lasagna. And I’m not making you meatloaf, Frank. I’m not feeding you. The food in the fridge is mine. You can get your own.”

  He si
ghed. “I’m tired of burgers and pizza.”

  Sophie rolled her eyes. The poor guy. “Maybe you should, I don’t know, get an apartment and start making your own food.”

  “I’m fine here,” he said, looking around the room. “Couch, TV, bathroom with a shower, fridge, microwave. I’m set.”

  He was. She had been expecting this. Because it was all free and she couldn’t kick him out. He was half owner of the couch, TV, fridge, and microwave. Technically, anyway. But this was way better than him showing up on Kiera’s porch or finding stepmother number seven. “Guess it’s microwave burritos and soup then.” She started to turn away.

  “You always hated the microwave burritos,” he said.

  Sophie stopped and squeezed her eyes shut. Dammit. “Yeah, I did.” She didn’t face him.

  “That’s why I was always working on the next place to stay, Soph.”

  Sophie braced herself. She knew what was coming next. “Don’t, Frank.”

  “I could have eaten burritos for months if I’d had to. I didn’t mind sleeping in the car. I moved on to the next woman each time for you.”

  Sophie wanted to throw something. Or punch something. He always did this—put all of it on her. And worse, it worked.

  But it wasn’t her responsibility to take care of him now because of that.

  Was it? Was some strange, misplaced sense of duty why she’d made sure the heat in the building stayed at a decent level overnight, and that there was a pillow and blanket on the couch, and that there were extra supplies in the bathroom? Because she’d known he’d show up here and she could do at least that much, right?

  She needed to get to her office and do some kickboxing. “Okay, on that heartwarming note, I’m going to go, Frank. Stay. Leave. Whatever. But leave my food alone.”

  “So if you didn’t make the lasagna, who did? Maybe I need to get married again after all,” Frank said, rubbing his stomach with a smile.

  Because getting married for lasagna seemed funny, of course. Until you got to know Frank Birch. And she knew him well. She sighed.

  Without the theater, Sophie wouldn’t be tied down anywhere. She could move around. She could stay ahead of Frank. He wouldn’t know exactly how to find her when he needed something. He might even have to go back to sleeping in cars or shelters.