Chapter Thirteen

Maggie dropped her purse on the couch, a vocal sigh filling the room when she spotted her phone still sitting on the table where she’d left it. She slipped it into her back pocket. “My feet are killing me.” She twirled a lock of hair between her fingers and brought it to her nose. “And I smell like…fish poo.” Her face wrinkled in a disgusted scowl. “I need a shower. Do you mind if I shower first?” She headed for the stairs. “I ran into Mr. Tyler at the party tonight,” she told Finn.

“I don’t know who that is,” he said, following her.

“The guy from the lake this afternoon. He runs a theater.” She grabbed a fresh towel from the linen closet in the hallway and tucked it under her arm. Then she removed one shoe, took a few steps, removed the other, and left them where they fell as she made her way to the bathroom. She wriggled out of her top, letting it fall to the floor as she walked and talked. “You’ve never met him before? He grew up near Abe’s place. Lives in Boston now.”

He collected Maggie’s trail of garments as he walked behind her. “Oh yeah?”

She shimmied out of her bottoms and turned on the water in the shower. “Oh, thanks, I was gonna get that,” she said as Finn dumped her belongings in a corner of the bathroom.

He sat down on the closed toilet seat. With her bra and undies still on, she stepped into the far side of the tub and closed the curtain. Once sure she was covered, she unclasped her bra, held it outside the curtain for a moment, waiting for Finn to take it. When she felt the tug from her finger, she did the same with her undies. The warm water rushing over her was a welcome relief. She ached in places she didn’t know she had muscle groups.

After soaking her hair, she popped her head around the curtain. “He likes your boat.” She held out her palm and wiggled her fingers at him. “Shampoo?”

Finn looked around the bathroom for a moment, then found her cosmetic bag and dug through it until he found the travel size bottle of shampoo. He placed it in her outstretched hand.

“He’s interested in buying one,” she continued, disappearing back behind the curtain. She squirted a dollop of the floral-scented shampoo onto her fingers, then passed the bottle back.

“I can add him to the wait list,” he told her, his inflection changing to that of interest instead of placation.

“Uh-huh.” Once her hair had a good lather, she rinsed, then opened the curtain again. “Conditioner.”

He rifled through the bag once more, found the bottle, and handed it over. After taking what she needed, she gave him back the bottle and ran her fingers through her hair. She wished she could tell him of her plan. Tell him of all the wonderful ideas she had for him and his family, and his business. But she couldn’t. Not yet. Not until she had it perfected.

Maggie swallowed hard. Her thoughts drifted back to their conversation at Abe’s. She wanted to tell Finn she would stay, wanted to make him happy, but she couldn’t. She was only going to break his heart. But how to tell him whirled into muddled thoughts. Her body and her mind were at war. She’d felt so at home over the course of the day. And now, he was sitting in the bathroom with nothing but a shower curtain between them, and it seemed so normal. So right. And the realization of that scared her. Her brain melted into a puddle of mush.

She quickly finished up her shower, continuing to tell Finn more about her conversation with Mr. Tyler and his interest in his boat. She shut off the water, and he passed her the towel without her having to ask for it. She wrapped it around her torso, whipped back the curtain, and stepped out of the shower.

A muffled ring sounded from somewhere within her pile of clothing on the bathroom floor. “Shoot,” she said, trying to navigate the tiny space. “I probably have a hundred voicemails by now.” Although not having to worry about work had been a welcome respite.

“Here, let me help,” he offered, standing and moving closer to the door. “I think it’s coming from—”

“It’s in my pants, I think.” Maggie scooted by Finn, nearly face-to-face, body against body. With one hand holding her towel precariously around the important parts and one rifling through the pile, she reluctantly answered her phone.

“Hello?” She shot up, nearly headbutting Finn in the jaw. It was her father. Shit.

“Margaret?” It wasn’t so much a question as it was a yelling declaration. “What the hell is going on? Where are you? I’ve been calling you. I’ve called every hotel and bed-and-breakfast in the area, and no one has you checked in.”

She pulled the phone away from her ear slightly before turning down the volume. He was absolutely yelling. The one person she purposefully never called back.

Finn cringed. “Sorry.”

She waved him off. Her dad’s attitude wasn’t Finn’s fault. It was her fault she’d left her phone in the house all day. “Hi, Daddy,” she told him, trying to play it cool.

“I haven’t talked to you in days. What is going on? Have you fixed your little problem yet?”

“I’m working on it. And speaking of working, I wanted to ask you if—”

“Get it done. Tomorrow,” he snapped, cutting her off.

“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” she told him, opening the bathroom door to pace the hallway. She’d been called to help here. It’s what she did. It was the fuel for her fire, burning deep in her soul. Why didn’t he get that?

“I don’t want to hear your excuses, Maggie. I’m tired of dealing with your inconvenient mess-ups. The clock is ticking. And we still have a wedding to plan.”

God, she wished she could reach through the phone and slap the stupid out of him. “There’s not going to be a wedding. Winston and I are done. We broke up. The only reason we were engaged in the first place was because it’s what you wanted. I have an opportunity to do some work here, and I’m staying until it’s finished. Because that’s what I want to do.” She didn’t know where the sudden burst of defiance came from, but she liked it. Miss Independent had her groove back.

She needed to stop apologizing for his behavior. “I am not going to be your puppet anymore. I am my own woman and I will choose who I love and who I’m going to marry. I am so sick and tired of everyone telling me what to do. You, Winston. I’m done with it all,” she said with surety. “I don’t know when I’ll be back.” A complete lie. She knew exactly when she was going home, but he didn’t need to know that. He no longer had a say in her life.

There was silence on the other end, and Maggie glanced at her screen to make sure the call was still connected. Her father cleared his throat, but he still didn’t speak. She continued her pacing, not going to be the first to speak. She wouldn’t crack. She couldn’t. This was her life. She was in control, and he needed to be reminded of that.

The silence between them was deafening. Little drops of sweat beaded at her hairline, and she brushed them away with the back of her palm. She inhaled sharply, ready to talk, but he spoke before she broke.

“Stop acting like a child. Get those papers signed and get your ass on the next plane home. Do I need to remind you what’s at risk if you don’t follow through with this marriage?” He seemed overly calm, as if he’d been reading from prompts. “No wedding, no Kelley-Fisher Wing, no more funding your stupid head-in-the-clouds ideas.”

Was he serious?

Did he think this was just some game? A prize to dangle in front of her?

She could bitch it right back. She didn’t need Winston or his family money.

After a deep breath she added, “Divorces take time, Daddy. Despite what you might think, they don’t work on your timeline. I’ll be back, but it won’t be because you told me to. It’s because I have projects to finish, and I intend to see them through.”

“That’s a good girl, Margaret.”

Gag. That voice. Like he was calling over a playful puppy. It disgusted her. “No. I’m not your good girl. I am a grown woman. I’m not Winston’s arm candy or his trophy-wife-to-be. I’m not his anything, and I don’t have to put up with being treated this way.” Her connections in California were solid, and if he wanted a fight, well, he had one. “Don’t call me again about this.” She ended the call. Damn you and your selfish ultimatums.

She was done. She clutched the phone in her hand, banging it against her forehead in frustration. The tether had been severed.

“Too soon for an awkward pickup line?”

Maggie groaned. How embarrassing for that to go down in front of Finn, especially after what had happened at the party. Embarrassing, yet…exciting. She smiled. Was this how she was supposed to feel? Happy? Elated? Over the moon? Her motivation had just been thrown into overdrive.

And she was standing in the middle of her husband’s hallway, wearing only a towel.

Her father’s call had thrown her back into a stark reality. She had so much work to do, and she needed to stop playing around. The day had been wonderful—she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so carefree and happy—but California was waiting for her.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, running his fingers through those beach-boy waves. “That didn’t sound too good.”

“This isn’t your fault. This needed to happen. A long time ago. Don’t be sorry for me, be excited.” She bounced on her toes slightly. “Be happy for me. This is awesome. I can finally do things my way. I am so sick of being told what to do, where to go, who to talk to. I have always been little Maggie, the people pleaser. Did you know the only way I could get my parents to notice me was if my achievements made it to the paper? Then they could show it off to all their friends at the yacht club. Proof I was worth something.” She adjusted her towel. “State of California spelling bee finalist and my parents didn’t even show up. Sent my nanny. They had more important places to be. I am my own person, damn it. And I make the decisions. I can’t wait to get home. There’s so much work I can do without all the bureaucracy and damned red tape at every turn. I don’t have to ask anyone for permission to be me.”

“That must have really sucked.”

“You don’t realize how lucky you are. Your family is amazing. They love you unconditionally, and that is a rare quality.”

“They love you, too.” He leaned against the wall, turning his head in her direction.

“They love the idea of me. Let’s keep it real.” She tightened her grip on her towel, then ducked into her bedroom to dress. With a nagging burden off her shoulders, she slipped the engagement ring from her finger. Her hand felt light without it. Free. No longer in chains. She crossed the room and tucked the diamond away in her suitcase. No longer would she worry about disappointing people who had no say in her life.

…

Finn quietly closed the bathroom door. He shook slightly, flexing his palms. She really was available. And so damn strong. Her dad on the phone was yelling so loud he could hear the entire conversation, and, like a pro, she told him how it was going to be. A normal person would have crumbled under that sort of pressure. He’d love to see her in action—her authoritative voice was kind of a turn-on. He blasted the water for a shower and waited for the hot water.

And waited.

He sighed. Cold shower it is. He stripped, braced himself, and stepped under the steady stream of icy water. A small grunt left his mouth on a breath, and he showered as quickly as he possibly could, but it still didn’t clear the image of Maggie in a towel just inches from him. He dried off, pulled on a pair of gym shorts, and headed to his room.

He couldn’t stop thinking about what Maggie had told him about her childhood. A part of him wanted to make sure she’d never feel that way again. He paused in front of her bedroom door for a moment, then knocked. The door immediately swung open.

“Hey,” she greeted, smiling briefly before slackening her mouth into a luscious pout.

He stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say. He didn’t think she would open the door that quickly, or at all. His stomach rumbled, and he blurted, “Midnight snack?”

She brushed the hair from her forehead, raking her fingers through her hair, doing that Little Mermaid thing again, driving him wild. “I could eat something sweet.”

He’d devour that sweet mouth had the timing been right, but right now what she needed from him was comfort and conversation. Thankfully, he had a half gallon of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream in the freezer, and he hoped that would do. “Ice cream? Straight out of the carton?”

“Works for me!” She closed the door behind her.

In the kitchen, he grabbed two spoons from the utensil drawer and the ice cream from the freezer, and plopped down in a chair at the table. He slid a spoon over to Maggie, who sat in the chair beside him.

“Oh, the good stuff,” she said, popping the top off the ice cream container.

“So tell me about this hospital thing you’re doing,” he said, taking a scoop of the ice cream. “Something for kids?”

Her eyes lit up. “I am so excited for this project.” Her smile faded then, and she took a bite of the ice cream. “It’s probably nothing you’re interested in. I won’t bore you with the details.”

“No,” he replied. “Tell me about it. What you were telling my dad seemed really cool. I’m interested, Maggie.”

She swallowed and then licked the remainder from the spoon. “Okay. Well—I saw a need for a family wing on the oncology floor of the hospital my dad works at, so I’m fixing it. Families were paying out the nose for hotel rooms while their children were receiving treatment, and I figured they could all use a place to stay, free of charge. Having to figure out how to pay to be with their children shouldn’t be something else they have to worry about. They’re going through enough as it is. So… I’m putting together a gala to raise the construction costs to get it built. It’s going to be a separate building on the hospital campus. Housing and treatment at the same location. Rooms that look like home, not scary hospital places with tubes and wires everywhere. I’ve never done a project this big before, and I’m really starting to wonder if I’ll be able to pull it off.”

Her look of uncertainty tugged at his heart. “Do you work remotely a lot, doing all these things? I imagine the schedule is pretty busy.”

She took another bite. “No, not really. I mean, I am right now because I have to. I like being there for every step of everything I do, because each project is important to me. I want to be there when they break ground. I want to see their faces when we cut the ribbon. I need to be at this gala. I need to make sure I do all I can to get the funding for this. Without Winston backing me now, it’s going to be much harder. I just don’t move in the same circles he does, you know?”

He understood. Her job was just as meaningful and hands-on as his was. He took another bite, letting the cream melt over his tongue. His mind raced in too many directions. He might not have the connections her ex could’ve given her in L.A., but there were other things he could give her. Respect. Commitment.

Love.

“Whatcha thinking?” she asked, breaking his thoughts.

He shook his head and sighed slightly, leaning back in his chair. “Nothing.” He swallowed, then cleared his throat. “Maggie, I…” He sighed. “For the record, I would have gone to your spelling bee. I never would have missed it.”

The corner of her mouth turned upward. “Thanks. But I know that’s not what’s bothering you, Finn. Tell me,” she pressed.

“Okay.” He swallowed. Truth time. “I don’t even know the guy, but I don’t like him. I don’t like the way he treated you. I don’t like how he’s kept you from your dreams.” He scratched at the hair on his jawline. “I’m jealous of the guy and I hate his guts. You’re not even engaged anymore, and he’s still controlling you. I don’t like it.”

“I was introduced to Winston at some function my parents were hosting. They told me this was the man I was going to marry, and I, being the people pleaser, went along with it. Be quiet, look pretty. Smile and nod. I think I was more than he bargained for, honestly. Can I confess something to you?”

“Absolutely.”

“When I found out we were still married, I— I got that rush all over again. Vegas was still fuzzy, but I remembered how you made me feel. And I knew I was never going to get that from Winston. I had no idea what to expect when I got on the plane to come here. I was so nervous I threw up in the bathroom before I boarded.”

He slid his palm across the tabletop, settling on hers. He squeezed. “Maggie—”

“I like who I am when I’m with you. Is that crazy?” she asked.

“No.” Not when he felt the same.

“I feel like we’ve known each other our entire lives. It’s so strange.” She sighed.

“Listen. I know you keep saying you need to get back to California, but I will never ask you to leave. I love having you here. I love who I am when I’m with you, too.”

She gave him a weak smile, squeezed his hand briefly, then broke the connection. “Enough about me. What about you? Is work going well?”

“Work is great. Aside from the fact that I haven’t been doing much lately because, well…” He smirked. He’d much rather be spending every second he could with her. “I have a waiting list with deposits that will take me into the next five years. It’s nothing as heroic as what you do, but it keeps me busy. I love what I do. I love creating these single, one-of-a-kind masterpieces.”

“I’m not heroic.”

“You are to the family of the kid in the hospital.” Finn placed his spoon on the table and looked her in the eye. “Maggie, you have absolutely no idea how amazing you are, do you?”

“Since you have so many orders, why don’t you look into expanding—”

And there it was. The moment he’d been hoping to avoid. Have the talk about Garrity Boatworks. “Look.” He cut her off, setting his spoon on the table with purpose. What he was about to say was going to cut, but he had to lay it out there. He wasn’t going to pacify her like Winston did. “I know it’s your nature to help. That’s what you are—you’re a helper. And I love that about you. But, and I say this with the utmost sincerity and flattery—Garrity Boatworks doesn’t need help. It’s doing just fine here in Rockport.”

“There’s so much potential out there. You can hire employees. Take orders and keep a regular schedule. Branch out. Boston. New York. Even as far south as Savannah. Not to mention all the resort areas like Cancun and the Caribbean. You’re so talented, and I want the world to see that. You’re limiting your potential by staying local. Just imagine what you could do with this in California.”

For a moment, being together in California crossed his mind. Dropping everything to be together. But rationality consumed him. “I don’t need to expand. The way I build boats, I…” His voice wavered. “It’s a very specific skill I don’t want to market. I want to pass it down to my son, just like my father did to me, and his father before him.” Her heart was in the right place, but he could never have someone else building boats with his name on them if he couldn’t see them himself—to make sure every beam, every angle, was perfection. He loved building. He took pride in every boat. Garrity Boatworks was the only legacy he’d leave behind. “Thank you, really, but it’s not something I’m willing to do.”

She blew the hair from her face, her mouth twisting into a frown. “I understand.”

“Besides, you seem to have a full plate already.”

She tucked her knees up under her chin and hugged them. “Okay. So you don’t want to branch out. What if you did something locally? I’ve been thinking a lot about this, and I want to put on an event for you. Showcase your work. What you do is such beautiful artistry, and it deserves to be appreciated. You yourself said it’s been here for generations—let me remind the people of the gem they’re overlooking. I really screwed you over, and I want to make it up to you. And this is the only way I know how.”

He sighed, sinking back into his chair. He didn’t need help. He didn’t need to be thanked. He didn’t need some event. He didn’t need to branch out. But that look of desire in Maggie’s eyes had him questioning everything.

What he really needed was her. He had no idea what something like whatever she had planned would cost him, but going along with whatever schemes Maggie had in that smart brain of hers might mean she’d stick around longer. Sticking around meant more time to finish Operation: Win Back the Bride.

This could be something they could work on together. Be together. Persuade her into staying longer, and longer. With him. “Garrity Boatworks has been in Rockport and Rockport only, and that’s how it’s going to stay. But, if you want to plan some event that would get the community together, I’m not going to say no. If it’s something you want to do, I’ll support you one hundred—”

Maggie sprung from her chair. In an instant, she was on him, squeezing him tight. She squealed, and he pulled her in close, embracing her frame.

“All right,” he whispered in her ear. “Do your thing.” He closed his eyes, content to just breathe her in. She smelled of soap and shampoo and everything right in the world. When she began to pull back, he groaned, “Let me guess. You already have a theme picked out?”

“I do.” She seemed absolutely giddy with excitement. “This is amazing. Thank you for letting me make up for the annulment paper thing that I still say you were supposed to take care of.”

“Oh, we’re never going to live that down, are we?”

“There’s so much to do.”

He stifled a yawn. “I need to sleep.”

“I’m going to get a head start, and get these ideas down while they’re still fresh. We’ll talk in the morning?”

“Whatever you want.” He gently kissed the top of her head, allowing himself to relish in the sweetness of her being. “Sweet dreams, Mags.”