He’d thanked her for that afterward, and then he’d seemed to forget all about it. But she hadn’t forgotten. She’d had a crush on him at the beginning, when he’d shown up to Asheville Middle with his hair tucked behind his ears and those big brown puppy dog eyes with more than a hint of defiance in them…and their almost kiss had sparked something in her. Something that had waxed and waned over the years but never fully gone away.
Except when she saw him standing there now, so handsome in the morning light, she wished she were seeing a different man.
Sucking in a breath, she parked the car and headed toward the porch. Ein and Chaco were waiting behind the door, whimpering and padding the glass. River was the one man Ein loved, unabashedly, as if he took his cues from Maisie.
“This is a rather extreme reaction to an unanswered text,” she said.
River reached for one of the disposable coffee cups he’d set on the little table between the Adirondack chairs. There was a paper bag there too.
At least someone had brought her breakfast. But she had that strange ache again, like she wished it had been Jack. Which was crazy. Jack didn’t know that she liked the blueberry muffins from Beans and Buns. He didn’t know anything about her—just like she didn’t know anything about him.
Except that wasn’t quite true.
“Better be the right one,” she griped weakly, glancing at the bag.
“Yeah, yeah, got you the wrong muffin one time, and I’ll never hear the end of it. What happened to you last night?”
She opened the door to let the dogs out. Ein raced over to River, tail wagging so wildly it looked like it would fall off. But Chaco didn’t approach either of them—she just went to sit at the top of the steps, looking down at the drive.
Almost like she missed Jack.
Her first thought caught her off guard: she’s not the only one.
Which was crazy, really. She didn’t know him well enough to miss him, and Chaco had probably just seen a squirrel. Although she loved the little dog, not much of an argument could be made for her intelligence.
Except Chaco had been around for going on two months now, and Maisie had gotten to know her habits. If she wasn’t looking for Jack, she was doing a good impression of it. And if that didn’t tug the old heartstrings…
“Last night?” River prompted.
She settled into one of the chairs, motioning for him to do the same.
“I caught a whiff of Stella’s pheromones, and it sent me running.”
River chuckled as he picked Ein up. Her dog settled in his lap, sweet as pie now that he was with River. “You should have seen the nude painting she did of Lurch. Aunt Dottie kept going on about how accurate it was…which made me wonder how she knew.”
“Maybe she and Beau were swingers,” Maisie suggested. She took a sip of her coffee, savoring the flavor and the kick of caffeine. God knew she was going to need it. She and Jack had only gotten a few hours of sleep. “The lurch he helped them out of might have been a sex drought in their relationship.”
He gave a dramatic shudder. “Now that’s an image I didn’t need. She says she wants Adalia to put Stella’s painting in the next Art Display.”
“I’d say we should warn her,” Maisie said, “but I’d prefer to see the look on her face when she sees it for the first time.”
“Probably pretty similar to her expression when Finn showed her his grandmother’s ring.”
Maisie laughed because it was funny, but honestly, Adalia hadn’t been all that freaked out. She may have turned down Finn’s hilariously quick proposal, but she was pretty much on the cusp of living with him. The only thing holding her back was Jack and his soon-to-arrive sister, whose name she hadn’t thought to ask.
Was Jack back home with Adalia? If so, she would surely ask him about the party. What would he say?
She knew better than to think he’d tell his sister the truth. Which was good. Because she was about 99.5% sure that Adalia knew about the whole River thing. Finn had guessed, and even though he’d refrained from telling River, he wasn’t exactly known for being a steel vault.
Something a little like panic stole over her. She really, really didn’t want Jack to know, but she couldn’t exactly ask Adalia not to say anything, if only because she and Adalia had never actually talked about it.
And what did it matter anyway? Jack was gone. Their deal was at an end. She’d have to see him again, obviously, and their secret would always give them a bit of a dirty thrill, but that was that. She shouldn’t be thinking about him.
What if he left a note? a voice inside her whispered, kindling a little flame of hope. Chaco whimpered, still looking off in the distance.
“What are you thinking about?”
River was looking at her, really looking at her, as if trying to dig deep into her thoughts.
No, thanks. Finn and her sisters had advised her to talk things out with River, to be open with him. But she couldn’t see any upside to that. He was clearly in love with Georgie. Maisie accepted that. Hell, she’d encouraged him, because at the end of the day she loved him, whatever that love meant, and she wanted him to be happy. Telling him about her feelings—her confusing, twisting, seething feelings, which even she didn’t fully understand—would only make him feel like crap.
“You didn’t take home that goose and cook him for dinner, did you?” she asked. “You know you’re not supposed to do that with animals who have names.”
He shook his head a little, acknowledging the joke with a small smile, but she could tell he was hurt. She’d iced him out for most of the summer, and although they’d since resumed their Tuesday Bro Club dinners with Finn—a tradition the three of them had carried on for years—there was a new distance between them. River was the one in a new relationship, but she was the one who’d inserted the space between them. For self-preservation. He didn’t understand, of course, and thought it came down to a dislike of Georgie. Or some random gripe against him.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” he said in a rush, putting Ein down and getting to his feet. It was so like what she should say to him that her heart started pounding faster in her chest. Maybe he knew after all. What if he was going to tell her they shouldn’t be friends anymore? Because that was one of her fears too—that he might decide it wasn’t fair to Georgie for them to see each other.
Maisie hated feeling weak and vulnerable. Hated it. But there it was. She didn’t want to lose him. She’d already lost so much.
“Oh?” she asked, standing too. Because she wasn’t the type of person who took bad news sitting down. She’d rather be standing up, ready to launch into battle.
“I know you don’t like Georgie…”
She opened her mouth to respond, although she wasn’t quite sure what to say, but he saved her from saying anything. “I get it. I know it was weird in the beginning, her being my boss and all, and you were just trying to be a good friend. But I love her, Maisie, and I’m going to ask her to marry me.”
With those words, it felt like he’d ripped all of her progress away, like tearing a Band-Aid off a raw wound.
What was it Josie had said?
The man she loved would marry someone else, and she’d die alone. Well, even a busted clock was right twice a day.