Chapter Three

A lump formed in Maggie’s throat and she swallowed hard against it. Being a convincing girlfriend would require PDA and all that mushy stuff she wasn’t at all comfortable with around Finn. Being near him for an undetermined length of time could be dangerous. Just looking at him could do her in. The way those amber eyes studied her in such earnest. Understood her, saw right through her guarded exterior, but chose compassion instead of telling her secret. The way he carried himself—the subtle confidence was sexy as hell. He wanted her to pretend to want him? It wasn’t pretending when those thoughts and feelings swirling around inside her were real. It scared her in a way her relationship with Winston never had.

Winston was…duty. A tradition she was expected to uphold—to marry into old money. His family had the clout her father wanted, and their wedding had been planned around his vacation time. His family had the clout her father wanted, and their wedding had been planned around his family’s vacation time. She called it senatorial off-season. She would never admit it if asked, but when she’d been informed there’d be no wedding until she could produce divorce papers, it was a relief she’d never felt before. The pressure from all sides had been overpowering. She just needed more time to figure herself out.

She hadn’t known it at the time, but Finn was that guy no one else would ever be able to live up to. True book-boyfriend material. Sweet, fun, engaging, actually cared about what she had to say. She’d hoped she’d find that with Winston when she’d agreed to marry him due to social pressure, which had made sense at the time. It was only logical they could help each other accomplish their career goals. The spark wasn’t there, but perhaps, with more time, they’d grow to find it. But now, there was no chance of that ever happening—Winston had solidified that. He had shown her his true colors, and she had called him on his bluff. No wedding? You got it. Done deal. Romance had never been in the cards for Winston and her.

There was no denying an attraction to Finn was still there. If anything, he’d only gotten better-looking with age. That man could do wondrous things to her—things she hadn’t felt in a long, long time. And those hands. Sweet baby Jesus, she’d pay good money to feel them burning against the small of her back just once more. Calloused and rough. The thought of them running up her thighs sent a spark shooting up her spine.

The Vegas sex had been the best she’d ever had—she remembered that, of all things, because hello, mind-blowing—and no other guy had ever quite been able to live up to it. Vegas Finn had quite literally charmed the pants off her in the back seat of a taxi after a long night of binge drinking and lewd behavior. God, he was amazing.

A day. An afternoon, really. That’s all he asked for. A little hand-holding and smiling wouldn’t hurt…if that’s what it took to keep sweet Nana from having a coronary. Besides, it would take a day or two to get the papers filed anyway, so why not help the guy out? She was a big girl. She could control herself, right?

He was saving her ass—she could help save his.

Maggie approached the off-road vehicle with apprehension. Anything missing doors and brandishing a roll cage caked in inches of dried mud definitely didn’t seem like her first choice for transportation when she’d driven herself there in a perfectly safe—and complete—rental car. With all four doors still attached. Nana Eloise didn’t seem fazed a bit as she hefted herself up into the passenger seat with a bit of help from Finn and his deliciously sinful muscles.

Tess, commenting on how work could wait and she didn’t want to miss this lunch, climbed into the shotgun seat in front of Nana. Finn jingled the keys in his palm and stood waiting for Maggie.

Had she suddenly shrunk? The running board height-to-width ratio seemed to narrow right before her eyes. She took a deep breath, gathered her nerves, and attempted to take a step up.

Nothing happened. Did her leg even bend? She still had both knees, right? Between the formfitting skirt and the four-inch heels there would be no stepping up in any form for Maggie. Not without disrobing. And that wasn’t on her immediate to-do list. She bit the corner of her lip. “Are you sure we can’t take my car?”

“Is mine not good enough for you?”

“I’m sure it’s great. It’s just, well…” How embarrassing. “I can’t get in it.” She couldn’t look at him, and he stifled a laugh. “Not without a set of stairs, some Crisco, and a pair of scissors.”

“Would you like some help?”

“Don’t think I have a choice.” She couldn’t help but notice how he stared at her. Couldn’t take those liquid pools of honey off her. Or her ass. And that needed to stop. Now. When he offered his hand, she was hesitant to take it. She’d done all right keeping her distance and her composure during this whole ordeal, but Maggie couldn’t determine what would happen if she actually touched him. She thought of Winston, of the ugliest, nastiest online zit-popping video she could think of, anything to keep her mind from double-crossing her. But it did anyway.

Finn wrapped one arm around her waist and swooped her off her feet with the other. He adjusted his grip, sliding the arm around her waist, precariously low toward her butt cheeks. He looked as though he had a thousand things to say but couldn’t find the words, which is exactly how she felt as he effortlessly cradled her against his chest. His heart pounded, its erratic beat reverberating deep to her core. A sudden chill whipped along the length of her arms and legs when his fingers dug at her flesh. She sucked in a breath she couldn’t seem to catch. “Your hand is on my ass,” she whispered.

“Mm-hmm.”

“I would like to get in the car now,” she breathed, half-heartedly making an attempt to not lose herself in the flecks of green surrounding the inner ring of his irises. “Finn?”

“Yeah?”

“Michelle would like to get in the car now.” Muscles grew taut as he sidestepped closer to the door and lowered her enough to where she could step into the back of the Jeep. As she avoided an empty water bottle and the roadside assistance kit, a warm palm gently curved around her hip and settled back on her left butt cheek, which was protruding from the vehicle. “Hand is still on the ass.”

“Yep.” Finn gave her a little swat.

Nope. Not awkward at all. She took her seat next to Nana and fumbled for the seat belt…harness. The Lord help her if she needed it.

Finn pulled himself up into the driver’s seat, clicked his seat belt into place, and roared the Jeep to a start. Gravel spat from the tires as he wove his way down the drive.

Garrity Boatworks was something pulled straight from a Norman Rockwell painting. Down a secluded dirt road off the harbor and around the corner from the marina, a tree-lined drive canopied over them as they drove. Boats of various sizes littered the grounds—some on trailers, others resembling ocean leftovers covered in what looked like white Saran wrap. Picturesque.

A bitter chill whipped through her. Grabbing her cardigan from her car was a distant afterthought as Finn tore down the twisting turns of the sleepy little ocean village of Rockport, Maine. Contrasting hues of reds and muddled browns whooshed by her at lightning speed while she attempted to control her wildly whirling hair. Driving with the top down—or altogether missing, in this case—had never really appealed to her for this exact reason. Hair chaos. The inevitable beehive of tangles would be hell to comb out.

Seagulls cawed in the distance, barely audible over the engine as Finn shifted gears. The roads intertwined and turned along the rocky coastline. Old boats turned lawn ornaments littered the tiny yards of hodgepodge houses lining the nooks and crannies of hilly terrain. Maggie inhaled a deep breath of sea-salted air. Refreshing and clean. So clean. And not a skyscraper to be found. It was breathtaking. She closed her eyes as the wind rushed over her face, content to inhale the sweet smells of the pines and blooming spring flowers. This was the way life should be. No constant hum of traffic. No six-lane highways to navigate. The promise of warmer weather lingering on the ocean horizon.

Finn pulled into the nearly full parking lot of the Rockport Diner. Off the main road and surrounded by lush trees, it stood steadfast and inviting. People filed through the front door. The diner seemed to be a favorite with young and old alike. A sign out front boasted they carried the best seafood in the MidCoast. That was promising, if only Maggie ate meat—she’d become a vegetarian at the age of eight after reading Charlotte’s Web. She remembered being terrified Wilbur the pig would be eaten with each turn of the page. It had scarred her for life.

Finn parked and cut the engine. He helped her down, offering his hand. She slipped her palm into his and her breathing wavered. Shocking white heat shot up from her fingertips. She tightened her grasp for a moment, then made herself let go. Maggie released a breath through pursed lips. That had been…unexpected.

“Hey, you coming?” He waved her onward.

Everyone was staring at her.

Off in her own little world, she’d failed to realize the other occupants of the speed-demon mobile had continued on without her. “Yes, sorry. I was just umm… Let’s eat.”

She hurried to catch up with the others, tucking her Vuitton bag under her arm and feeling like the annoying third wheel who didn’t know they were the third wheel. A playful breeze tugged at the hem of her petite pencil skirt and gravel crunched beneath her heels as she picked her steps carefully. A wave of nerves swept over her, rivaling the nearby churning water of the harbor. Face-planting never made a good first impression.

Second impression.

Whatever. It’d been eight years.

Finn held open the door as people shuffled through in a steady stream. The lunchtime aromas quickly filled her nose. Bacon, butter, seafood. Yeast from fresh bread and something that smelled deliciously like fresh apple pie. A shiny black-and-white checkerboard floor adorned by a bright red carpet greeted them like celebrities as they were quickly seated in a booth by a window. Nana insisted Maggie sit next to her, so she slid into the booth bench first, completely trapped. There would be no escaping. Finn sat opposite her and Tess sat on the outer edge, warily eyeballing her.

Their waitress, an older woman with a contagious smile and a perfect French braid pinning her hair back, greeted them with a smile and a notepad. Her name tag bore the name Edythe, and Maggie couldn’t help but relish in the grandmotherly warmth she radiated.

“Good to see you, Eloise. Glad to know you made it another week,” Edythe said, winking.

“You didn’t call last week. Thought I’d be tossing the dirt on your coffin by now.”

Maggie raised an eyebrow at Finn when both of the women laughed, their smiles captivating the space.

“They’re old childhood friends,” he replied, half smiling. “They give each other more shit than Tess and I do.”

“Well, I have a reason not to die now, Edythe. My grandson here done found himself a fiancée. Isn’t she a pretty little thing?” Eloise elbowed Maggie in the ribs. “Just think of all the cute little babies they’re going to make. It’ll be nice to have those red genes back in the family tree.”

Maggie lightly covered her cheek, hoping she could hide a bit of her embarrassment.

“Did you hit her over the head with your club and drag her back to your cave, Finn?” Edythe chuckled and clicked her pen. “Never thought we’d see the day you settled down. Not when there’s a big blue ocean out there.”

“I don’t know what she sees in me, but I sure am a lucky man,” replied Finn, briefly glancing at Maggie.

Edythe cupped her fingers around her mouth and turned her back to their table. “Hey, everyone! Finn found himself a girl! Make sure you stop by their booth over here and introduce yourself!” she shouted over the hum of the crowd. “You hang on to this one, young lady.” She pointed the tip of her pen at Maggie, and for a brief moment, she thought the waitress was going to throw it at her, just to drive her words home. “He’s quite the catch. There may be plenty of fish in the sea, but this is the one you want. Don’t throw him back. Now, who wants to hear the specials?”

Finn ordered a club sandwich, Eloise ordered chowder, and Tess ordered the special—something having to do with crab, lobster, and cake. She ordered water and the house salad, with light dressing on the side. Edythe told them she’d be back with their drinks in a moment. Just like that, she was with her “extended family”. Irrational thoughts swarmed through her head. It was strange, sitting at the table with her husband, sister-in-law, and their grandmother. And a huge secret. Could they tell she was lying? Faking it? And she couldn’t keep a secret to save her life.

Maggie arranged her silverware and napkin on the table in front of her, making room for the meal that would probably never be eaten because she knew she was going to die before it ever arrived. Strangers walked by the booth, introducing themselves with names she wouldn’t remember in an accent she couldn’t understand. They told her how they knew Finn and welcomed her to town.

There was Lucy, who owned the bookshop in the next town over, and Karen, who told Maggie to stop by her salon to get her ends trimmed because they were looking frizzy. And then there was a young mother named Lexi with two bubbly children who gave her wilting flowers from the grass outside in an adorable gesture of friendship.

The stories and the people were overwhelmingly sweet. Maggie smiled but regretted she didn’t know any of the stories they shared with her, or those who were involved. And for a reason she couldn’t recall, sadness crept into her heart. Such welcoming people so willing to share their lives with her, only to end up that she’d disappoint them all. Would they look at Finn the same way again after she’d gone?

And to make the situation worse, Tess wouldn’t stop staring at her with that sisters-know-everything glare. She was beginning to wonder if she had something stuck to her face and shifted in her seat. Oh God, she’d made eye contact with Tess.

“So Michelle. I mean, Maggie… What made you drive all the way up here? Finn seemed wicked surprised to see you at the shop.”

“Come on, Tess,” groaned Finn.

“No, I want to know. New York is a long drive for a pop-in visit.”

“It’s okay,” she said. “Well, I had a few days off, and seeing how Finn always makes the drive to come and see me, I thought I would surprise him and return the gesture for once.” Lie, Maggie, lie.

Tess nodded, and Maggie hoped it was convincing enough to halt the investigation.

“Finn’s referred to you as Michelle for months now. Why’s that?”

Had she just been caught? No, his sister was merely curious. And smart. Tess knew it wasn’t adding up, and rightly so. The entire situation was just weird. “Funny story, actually.”

“I’d love to hear it,” said Tess.

“Well—” Finn began, but Maggie cut him off.

“It’s all right, sweetie pie, I can answer this one.” She cleared her throat and glanced across the table at Finn, who fidgeted in his seat. “See, when we first started chatting, I gave him a fake name. In my defense, I had no idea if he was a serial killer or some fat, bald guy hiding behind a fake picture. I didn’t even know if anything was even going to come of it, and later I had to fess up to the fake name after he’d been calling me Michelle the entire time. You can never be too careful these days. Now it’s just this big inside joke he apparently shared unknowingly with his entire family and is never going to live down.” She leaned over the table closer to Tess and cringed. “I’m a bit embarrassed, actually.”

In actuality, they had bumped into each other—quite literally—at the slots, and he’d spilled his drink down the front of her sundress. She’d been pissed until Finn grabbed the drink from her hand and poured it down the front of his jeans so they would match. Maggie laughed, Finn smiled…and she’d fallen. Hard. But she doubted anyone wanted to hear that story.

The table was awkwardly quiet. Finn looked impressed. Tess looked confused, and Nana studied the dessert menu, completely ignoring the ongoing conversation.

“What do you do?” Tess continued.

“Charity function coordinator,” she answered.

“That’s a real job?”

“It is to me.”

“Do you hunt? Fish? Go mudding?” Tess sat back against the booth, crossing her arms.

All things Finn enjoyed, Maggie presumed. “I’m a vegetarian, and I don’t like touching slimy things, but I’m not against getting dirty.”

Tess raised an eyebrow. “How did my brother propose?”

Oh, it was on.

“He didn’t.” Maggie glanced at Finn briefly, and a look of horror glassed over his eyes. Her mouth turned up in a devilish grin. “I did.”

Edythe arrived with their drinks. “Tess, leave the girl alone,” she said, placing a glass of ice water in front of Maggie. “She’s obviously The One, or she wouldn’t be here.”

“Thank you, Edythe.” Maggie may have won that round, but she wondered what would be next. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be a pissing contest while fishing, covered in mud.

Tess took a sip of her drink, then sighed. “Sorry. I’m just a bit protective. As you probably can tell, this just came out of nowhere for us.”

“For me, too,” agreed Maggie, hoping that would be the end of it.

Lunch passed quickly, and the meal hadn’t been as uncomfortable as she expected it to be once she allowed herself to lower her guard. The conversation flowed, mostly with Eloise. It was as if they were old friends catching up on years of absence. Maggie told her about the various charities she raised money for, about her parents—and most of what she told her was true. She didn’t need to lie about that. What surprised her the most was how pleasant it was. Finn leaned his elbows on the table, resting his head in his hands, listening. He seemed…content. Relaxed.

Even the conversation with guarded Tess had been pleasant. They had a few things in common—the love for all things horse for one—and sharing that small bond had Tess chuckling and telling barn horror stories over dessert.

When Edythe brought the bill, Maggie swiped it from Finn’s grasp. “This one’s on me,” she told him, handing Edythe back the slip with her credit card. “My treat.”

Eloise and Tess thanked her, gathering their belongings while waiting for Edythe to return. Finn stretched his arms above his head, accompanied by a drawn-out yawn. A happy trail of dark hair peeked out at her from beneath his shirt with a teasing How do you do, and Maggie looked away. This girlfriend thing was going to be harder than she’d thought.

“Here you go, dear.” Edythe placed the billfold on the table with a pen and wiped her hands on her apron. “It was a pleasure meeting you, and I’m sure I will see you around soon. It’s a small town, after all. Don’t be a stranger.”

“It was so nice meeting you, too, Edythe.” Maggie signed the credit slip, left her a generous tip, then retrieved her purse from the bench seat.

Eloise slipped her hand around Maggie’s forearm, giving it a small pat. “Thank you for the lunch, Maggie. Is it Margaret? I do love a strong traditional name. I hope you’ll consider family names for the children. And I do hope you start right away. The longer you wait, the harder it will be to conceive. You don’t even need to wait for marriage these days. It’s all the rage.”

“Nana.” Finn chimed in. “Let’s take it one day at a time, okay?” he said, following the women to the front exit. “She’s been here for like an hour and she’s already been interrogated, told what to name her unborn children, and had her job questioned.”

Eloise let out a boisterous laugh. “Sometimes, Finnegan, a day is all you’ve got.”

Nana was spot-on.