Bad Boy (Invertary 5)

Flynn narrowed his eyes. Ryan was as big a player as he was. “You told him he was just watching, right? Not flirting.”

Lake shook his head as his lips twitched, his yearly smile obviously over. “You are so going down.”

Flynn frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Lake patted him on the back. “Remember my business when you’re booking security for the wedding. I’ll give you a discount.” He wandered off, leaving Flynn to scowl after him.

“We made a fortune for the church.” Flynn’s aunty Heather bounced over. Her grin was sparkling and it eased something in Flynn’s chest to see it. Eight months ago he’d watched her face crumple when she’d buried her husband, and Flynn had wondered if he’d ever see her smile again.

“Don’t forget your donation,” the vicar ordered Flynn from his chair by the stage. He was eating carrot cake and drinking tea.

“You’ll get your money, old man.”

“This is the best fundraiser we’ve had since Josh put on a concert for the town.” Heather grinned widely. “You and Josh should get together for the next fundraiser. Imagine the money you’d raise. I’ll talk to your mother and we’ll set it up. The town needs a new youth centre. I bet we could raise enough for one.”

“I had nothing to do with the money pouring in,” Flynn said. “People were paying to shut Morag up.”

“Forget about a youth centre. We’re sorting the church first, woman,” the vicar snapped. “I need a new armchair in the vestry. The one I’ve got has a stray spring that digs into my back. A man can’t focus on his prayers when he’s in agony.”

“You mean you can’t nap in the chair, more like,” Heather said.

The vicar ignored her while he polished off his cake.

“Thanks for helping out, Aunty Heather,” Flynn said.

“That’s what family is for.” She patted his hand. “If your mum wasn’t running errands in Fort William she would have been here too. You did a good thing here. I’m proud of you.”

Her words produced warm fuzzies in him he wasn’t used to feeling. “It’s not enough, though, is it?” He nodded towards the two camera crews and the woman with a baby on her hip. “We’re still going to be on TV. Abby will still get hit with the fallout.”

“It’s not your fault,” Heather said.

“Aye,” Flynn said. “It is. I get it now.”

“You’re a good boy, Flynn Boyle. You’re trying hard and I’m proud of you. We all are.” Heather gave him a quick hug before trotting off to shake her bucket with the other women. The group were toasting their success as extortionists with cake and tea.

“Don’t get discouraged,” the vicar snapped at Flynn. “Abby needs someone in her corner.”

“Maybe I’m not the right guy for the job.”

“Ha! Of course you aren’t. But you’re the one she wants.”

“Thanks. Did you learn this encouragement technique in vicar school?”

“Vicar school?” The minister threw back his head and laughed. “Young people know bugger all.” He shuffled over to the table with the cakes, lifted a plate with an unsliced chocolate cake and took it to his car.

Flynn smiled at the sight of his friends and family. People who’d come through for him. He should probably hang around and socialise. But he didn’t want to. There was only one place he wanted to be.

With a nod at his teammates, he headed towards Abby’s house.

31

"Until we're out of the Champions League, we're still in it."

Bobby Robson, former Newcastle manager

Brian wasn’t sure how Flynn had pulled it off, but the event he’d staged fizzled out like the Alka-Seltzer he needed for his stomach. Even the band, with its reputation for destruction, left without damaging a thing. There should have been a fight. A drunken showdown or two. At least one shot of Flynn losing his cool. Instead, he had hours filled with women singing dirge after dirge and speeches by a minister who needed a personality transplant.

“You promised me this would be good for my career.” Peaches pouted beside him.