We were standing within arm's reach – close enough so I could see the flecks of gold in her hazel eyes and catch the faint scent of the hand lotion she kept under the front desk – vanilla with a hint of almond.
In that moment, if she had reached for my hand, forget pulling away.I would have pulled her closer.
And I would have regretted it – if not now, then surely a month from now.
So I shoved aside those thoughts and reached for a wrench. "Nope."
She blinked. "Nope what?"
I couldn't help but chuckle. "Sorry, forgetting's not gonna happen."
She stared for a long moment before asking, "Seriously?"
I grinned. "But I can pretend to forget, if that's what you want."
"Fine. Yeah, that's probably a good idea." She cleared her throat. "You know what? I think I'll take out the trash." As she spoke, she made a beeline for the black trash bag in the far corner. She grabbed it and was halfway to the back door before I realized what was happening.
I called out, "Hang on."
In mid-step, she stopped and turned to face me. "What?"
I pointed. "That's not trash."
She frowned. "It isn't?"
"No." NowIwas the one embarrassed. "It's um, my laundry."
Maisie gave the bag a wary look. "Oh."
"Don't worry, it's clean. I just did it this morning." Now that I had a bike lock, I'd done the Santa sack thing on wheels and discovered that it was fine as long as I kept my balance.
On the home-front, things were looking up.As of this morning, I had clean bedding and clean clothes in a clean garbage bag – meaning a new bag, because there was no way in hell I was reusing the bag I'd stuffed thedirtylaundry in.
Even so, I hadn't had time to run the laundry back to the boathouse before beginning my shift, so I'd set the bag in the corner while I worked.
I'd figured no one would notice. I'd figured wrong. Maisie was still holding the bag like she didn't know what to do with it.
She looked so cute that I had to smile. "So, don't throw it out, alright?"
"Oh. Right." She lifted the bag higher, as if worried that it might touch the floor. Keeping it hoisted high, she slow-walkedit back to the corner and placed it carefully where she'd found it, as if the bag contained family heirlooms instead of mostly bedding.
It was oddly thoughtful – even if totally unnecessary. For some reason, it hit me low and warm, like a sip of good whiskey on a cold winter's day. I gave a slow shake of my head.Small town girls – they were in a class all by themselves.
Or maybe it was just Maisie.
When she finished, she turned to me with a wince. "Sorry. I didn't mean to try to steal your clothes."
The blush was back, deeper now, like she'd been caught mopping her brow with my boxers.
I wanted to saysomethingto ease her mind, but for the first time in ages, I couldn't find the words.
I could only stare.
She was so different from the women I'd been hanging with lately – or hell, maybe ever. My lips twitched with the threat of another smile. But I held it back – for her sake as much as my own. "Don't worry about it."
When the bell on the main door jingled, Maisie bolted for the front nearly as fast as Beverly had, shutting the connecting door firmly behind her. And yet, I could still hear her voice, sassy and sweet, charming the next customer.
Fuck.
