Shit.
She knew.
But how?
And then it hit me.
Franny.
Wasn't there a saying?Franny knows everything.
Earlier today, Ryder had said something about Franny stopping by the shop. Whatever she'd said to Maisie, it had prompted quite a change – enough to make Maisie wait in the darkness like she knew I'd be coming.
But did she know why?
No.She couldn't, because for one thing, I'd been keeping my activities to myself.
I was still piecing things together when Maisie said, "Listen, I've got something to say."
My reply slipped out before I could stop it. "Me, too." Hell, I had amillionthings to say.But where to begin? And how far to go?I'd been miserable without her – a sorry, cantankerous bastard who could barely get out of bed.
And considering the bed in question, that was really saying something.
I opened my mouth to start talking, but she held up a hand. "Hang on. Letmego first. Please?"
Her eyes were soft in the dim light, and as she stared from the other side of the table, I couldn't have denied her anything, not even my heart.
I nodded. "Alright, ladies first."
Slowly, she uncurled herself from the chair and got to her feet. She blew out a long trembling breath. "Okay, here it is. I'mreallysorry."
I blinked. "Sorry for what?"
"The other day, when I saw your place…" She glanced away, and her voice dropped to a near whisper. "I didn't realize it would be so bad."
I stiffened. So thiswasabout the apartment?
Maisie was still talking. "I mean, you said it was a dump, but I didn't realize that…well…it wassodumpy." But then she blanched. "Wait…you're not insulted, are you? I mean, I don't want to be rude. I know it's your place and all…"
I cut her off with a scoff. "I'm not married to it, if that's what you think."
"I know. But…well…I was just wondering if you'd rather stay with me?"
My heart just about stopped.I hadn't seenthatcoming.
My throat went suddenly tight. In my mind, I could already see it – me and Maisie cuddled up in a decent bed with warm sheets and plenty of privacy.
But the bed wasn't all. It was the image of us, sitting on her wide front porch, watching the sunset and drinking whatever. Sometime last week, she'd mentioned wanting a porch swing. I could buy her one in a heartbeat and have it installed as a surprise.
It would make her smile in that special way I always liked.
The image was nice, and I was still savoring it when she said with a little wince, "But I should say first that I'd need to check with Tessa. I mean, she said it was okay once, but we haven't talked much in the last day or so…and um, I just want to make sure it's fine."
It was vintage Maisie – thoughtful to a fault.Man, this girl was a keeper.
She perked up. "But I'm almost sure she'll say yes. And even if she doesn't, well…" She gave a nervous little laugh. "Don't worry. We can always work it out."
Those were a lot of words, and I was loving the sounds of them.
