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  Obvious

  The Finn Factor, Book 10

  R.G. Alexander

  Obvious

  Copyright 2018, 2019 by R.G. Alexander

  Edited by D.S. Editing

  Formatted by IRONHORSE Formatting

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite e-book retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  **The first half of this book was previously published as a free read in 2018. It has since been revised, edited, and the story completed. It is now twice as long as the original.

  Dedication

  For Finn Club.

  And to Cookie, Love is the Reason.

  Thank you, Robin, for always being there.

  And thanks to Lucy Lennox, without whom Matthew and Oliver’s story might never have happened.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  More Obvious

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Breathless

  Thanks for Reading!

  Other Books from R.G. Alexander

  About R.G. Alexander

  Chapter One

  “What’s the story with Legs McGee?”

  Matthew Finn let the question fall like an afterthought, idle curiosity meant to fill a lull in the conversation instead of something he’d been wanting to ask for the last hour. Getting the answer was the reason he was voluntarily spending Friday night in his brother William’s still-unopened boxing gym, eating cold ham off a paper plate while trading friendly insults and gossip with his cousin Rory and William’s brother-in-law, Robert Wayne.

  All because Matthew couldn’t get his mind off the slender fitness demon currently doing a second set of come-hither dumbbell squats on the other side of the gym, his clinging nylon shorts threatening to Free Willy at any moment.

  Watching the man from a distance, the way he had every night for the last week, was starting to get to him. He’d never been into guys before. Not that he had anything against people who swung that way—he wasn’t an asshole. He’d just always been attracted to women. In fact, he’d been so confident in his sexuality up to this point that he could admire a good-looking man, aesthetically speaking, without having the desire to take him home and pin him to his bed.

  Matthew wanted to take this one home.

  Damned if he could explain it, but it was all he could think about. He was all he could think about, and his need to know more about him wasn’t going away. If anything, his obsession was getting worse, and it was starting to invade every aspect of his life.

  “Whose legs are we talking about here?” Rory asked. “Did Robert finally get a date and we’re here to get all the graphic details? Now I know why you invited me along. Sex stories and leftovers are two of my favorite things.”

  He winked at Matthew before sliding a napkin across the counter to Robert.

  “We all know how much you like to share sex stories, but that’s not happening tonight,” Robert waved his plastic fork toward Rory in warning. “I’m too young to be hearing about any more of your Kama Sutra Gumby positions. And you are the last person I’d be giving details to about my sex life, even if I’d had enough time to date in the last few months. Which I haven’t.”

  “You don’t have time to date?” Rory sounded skeptical. “Because sitting around at a closed gym is too time consuming?”

  “Sitting around? I’ve been the main contact dealing with last minute construction, the utility companies, and all the advertising. I left my job to work here, in case you’ve forgotten, so I’ve got a stake in it being a success. This place is my priority right now.”

  “I call bullshit,” Rory muttered in Matthew’s direction. “Sex is every man’s priority. And his job issues happened after that time he brought some jerk of a coworker home to date his brother—”

  “One mistake and they never let it go,” Robert groaned. “I didn’t even know Younger existed then. Haven’t I been punished enough?”

  “Well now I think so,” Matthew said, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning. “But you Waynes appear to have a talent for grudge-holding that’s unsurpassed in this modern age.”

  “And we Finns still love stirring the pot.” Rory’s eyes sparkled with humor. “Especially when your epic fail at matchmaking got in the way of my big brother’s romance.”

  Robert rolled his eyes, and the conversation waned again as he dove back into his plate of glazed ham and baby potatoes.

  Matthew stifled a sigh of frustration. So much for casual curiosity.

  Just tell them, man!

  As if it were that easy. The three of them had little in common, apart from their love of the free food available at their families’ regular get-togethers. Matthew hadn’t known Rory long enough to be really close to him, but he appreciated his cousin’s humor and his committed relationship with the two men who barely let him out of their sight. Rory had forged his own path to happiness, and he wasn’t shy about sharing all the details, graphic or otherwise.

  Robert Wayne—who looked like a casting call for younger, more earnest Denzel Washington—was a wiz at marketing, which was how he convinced William to let him help get Finn’s Ring off the ground. He was good at details and—apart from that matchmaking fail—he usually knew how to read a room.

  They were an unlikely trio, but alliances had been built on less and that was what he needed now. Allies. That was why, when Matthew realized Robert had missed tonight’s dinner to man the gym, he’d decided a special delivery was the perfect excuse to show up and grill him for information.

  He hadn’t decided yet if asking Rory to come along for the ride was a good thing. But, at the very least, he’d have a better idea about how to go about getting a man’s attention.

  “So, what are we talking about if not Robert’s matchmaking failures?” Rory asked. “Or should I say who?”

  “I think Matthew’s talking about our first official customer over there,” Robert said after swallowing his last piece of ham. “The one who managed to wrangle a membership out of William before my ads were even posted.”

  Finally. “Yep. That’d be the one.”

  Rory pushed his blond hair out of his eyes and looked over his shoulder with zero subtlety. “That guy? Interesting.”

  When those keen blue eyes turned back in his direction, Matthew ducked his head. “It’s called making conversation. I just think it’s curious that he always seems to be around.”

  Liar.

  “You’re right about that,” Robert agreed. “An
d I’m not sure what his story is, but at least he’s not spying for the competition, which was my initial thought. The little man is focused on working out and nothing else. He’s practically making his own Rocky montage over there.”

  Rory snorted. “You’re comparing that sweet slice of angel cake to Rocky?”

  “I’m not saying he’ll ever be a boxer.” Robert shrugged, crushing his plate and tossing it in the bin with practiced ease. “But he is stubborn. That slice has been coming in every day for the last two weeks, dodging last-minute fix-it crews while working himself to exhaustion. And because he stays for hours, I stay for hours, since William and Bronte are swamped prepping for the baby’s arrival.”

  “That is intriguing,” Rory declared. “Now I want to know his story, too.”

  Robert sighed. “I could be having promotional meetings with local business owners or wooing my fashion designer buddy into making an athletic line for this place. Instead I’m manning the phones and keeping the lights on for one member. Either he needs to finish his montage, or I need to convince William to hire some actual staff.”

  “Good luck with that,” Matthew said automatically, though he was soaking up all the information on Legs like a sponge. Stubborn. Focused. He’d already figured that out. He needed more.

  “Why do I need luck?”

  “Because fatherhood is turning my brother into a miser. He’s already started a savings account for the baby. I even heard him use the word portfolio.”

  “Good for him.” Robert didn’t seem surprised. “He’s been getting advice from my brother, Emerson, who knows better than anyone how expensive kids can be. That doesn’t mean we can’t hire a few people on at minimum wage. It would save him time and money if he let me do what I’m good at for a change.”

  His brother already knew how expensive kids were from personal experience. When they’d lived in Ireland, William had run backroom brawls and handled debt collections to make sure his little brother and sister could eat. But back then, he’d been more focused on surviving the present than saving for the future.

  Nothing had surprised Matthew more than seeing William so eager to settle down and become a respected member of his community. After all he’d done for Matthew and Calamity, he’d been sure his big brother would revel in the fact that his days of responsibility were over.

  But then Bronte Wayne happened, and quick as that, William was practically begging to be ball-and-chained. The odd thing was, the daft boxer had never seemed happier.

  Hell, Matthew was happy for him, though he hadn’t understood the power of that first-sight scenario until he got his first look at the coltish man throwing wild, untrained punches at a heavy bag. He’d taken in those damp curls, flushed cheeks and focused expression, and had the craziest urge to cross the room and get in the guy’s way. Invade his space until that passion aimed in his direction.

  It scared the hell out of him, how swiftly his world had turned upside down. How hard he’d gotten, right there, in the middle of visiting his damn brother.

  He couldn’t remember what excuse he’d given William, who at the time had been trying to show him a sonogram of the alien with dimples he was calling his son. All Matthew recalled was the urgent need to escape the building. To grab a breath of fresh air, unscramble his brain and get his dick under control.

  A man didn’t get hit with that kind of lightning every day. The Surprise! You like peen! thunderbolt that apparently ran in his family. Anyone with a sensible head on his shoulders would need some time to evaluate those new and unfamiliar feelings before acting impulsively. Wouldn’t they?

  He wondered what it said about him that his dark night of the soul had lasted less than twenty-four-hours. A possible record in the Finn books as far as orientation epiphanies went.

  On the other hand, life was too damn short, and denying his desire wasn’t an acceptable option. Not when he could explore it instead.

  So, yeah. He was into guys now. One guy in particular. And he’d shown up at the gym each day since, with one bullshit excuse or another, because he couldn’t make himself stay away long enough to figure out what the hell he wanted to happen.

  How the hell did one guy chat up another?

  If he could concentrate on something other than the man’s ass, he might have the answer figured out by now. That ass was a distracting, meaty handful that would tempt a saint to sinning. Matthew was no saint, so he’d spent most of his free time imagining all the things he wanted to do to it, and the rest researching those gay porn sites to see if certain positions were even possible.

  For the record, they were. Along with a few others he never would have suspected, but now wanted to try.

  “Have we lost you?” Rory asked, interrupting Matthew’s wayward thoughts.

  “No.” Matthew straightened his shoulders. “Sorry I was just thinking about—” What the hell were they talking about? College funds?

  “Don’t strain yourself, Shamrock Jr.” Rory patted his shoulder with a grin. “If you lost the plot, we’re discussing Legs McGee’s transportation at the moment.”

  “His what?”

  “The beast,” Robert replied, his envy clear. “I saw it one night while I was locking up. One of those wild, cholo-style lowrider beauties I used to want back when I first got my license.”

  A car. They were talking about a car.

  “Bright blue and loud, with all the bells and whistles. Even has a set of fuzzy dice hanging from the mirror. That’s a lot of machine for a guy like that, and he looked about as out of place as a little old lady behind the steering wheel.” Robert lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Bronte says a boyfriend is the only logical explanation.”

  Perish the thought. “Would you come here every night, working out until you dropped if you had a full social calendar? Maybe he’s into big gas guzzlers.”

  “I don’t know.” Rory leaned back precariously on his stool to study Legs in more detail. “That one has public transportation written all over him. For environmental reasons, of course. That makes the boyfriend borrow more believable. But then, I could be wrong, since he doesn’t look like the kind of guy who’d spend his nights here, either.”

  “What kind of guy does he look like?”

  “Sweet comes to mind, even though he has moves like a stripper.” Rory’s eyes narrowed as he glanced back at Matthew. “A sweet stripper, with a touch of vampire ponce-itude about him.”

  The idea of other people, even his deeply satisfied cousin, noticing the sensuality of Legs’ movements annoyed him. “So is he an old lady or a sweet vampire stripper? Never mind. Do me a favor and never describe me to anyone. Either of you.”

  “You asked.” Rory shared a look with Robert. “You heard him ask. But let’s forget about that for now. What’s your take, Matthew? What do you think his story is?”

  Matthew took a long look at Legs. Sweet was on the money—those soft sable curls and wide, deep-set brown eyes made him look like an angel. An angel with lips that Matthew wanted to explore for days. He could practically feel them around his cock.

  “I don’t know what I think,” he deflected, shifting uncomfortably on the stool.

  Rory’s knowing look said he’d noticed. “Are you sure about that?”

  “Well, I’m sure he’s not a vampire.”

  You could solve all your problems if you’d just nut up and talk to the guy yourself.

  Matthew had almost done it a half a dozen times, but something always held him back. He felt stuck. Unable to move forward, but unable to leave and risk the possibility of someone else swooping in to steal Legs away from him before he worked up his nerve.

  The situation was getting untenable. His social life had all but disappeared. He’d turned down party invitations, ignored his email and phone messages... What kind of masochistic idiot had two thumbs and would rather watch a man hold the plank position for an hour instead of experiencing the illicit entertainments available at the local kink club?

  His kind, ap
parently.

  He’d been a club regular as recently as last week—back when there were all manner of things that flipped his personal switch, instead of just one oblivious man.

  Light bondage? He was in. Spanking and role-play? Sign him up. Anal? As long as he was driving, it was, as they said, all good. It wasn’t a lifestyle choice by any means, but it was always good fun, usually educational and his family might be well known there, but they didn’t actually own the club, which was a rare plus.

  There’d been plenty of opportunities to experiment with the men there as well, but he’d never been tempted—although, if he was being candid, certain male movie stars had accidentally slipped into his spank bank once or twice. But it was rare and he’d always chalked his momentary arousal up to the taboo nature of it all.

  When he’d started getting to know the American Finns, though, he’d begun to wonder if there was something more to it than that. It would be impossible not to, since a majority of his cousins were either bi, gay, poly or some creative combination thereof.

  Don’t forget about your sister, Calamity.

  As if she would let him.

  It was the intensity of his desire that shocked him most. He experienced arousal like anyone else, but he’d never confused it with necessity or, God forbid, love. He never believed a basic, physical reaction was more important than food, or air, or the old eighties movies he enjoyed watching in his spare time.

  That wasn’t to say he hadn’t been sexually active. He was a rotten shit to admit to it, but he’d forgotten the names and faces of most of the people he’d slept with since he’d arrived in the states.

  You wouldn’t forget Legs.

  Maybe. But he genuinely believed that true love and passion were for people like William. Or his parents, may they rest in peace. They were the emotional, impulsive creatures who wore their hearts on their sleeves, sometimes to the detriment of the people around them.

  Matthew had long ago decided to avoid that trap, and nothing life had thrown his way had changed his mind.