“Well,” I say, drawing the word out for effect. “I was told to take care of the details.” I wink at her, then stand up, watching as her eyes roam down my torso, down, down. A blush creeps across her cheeks as her eyes reach the morning wood greeting her.
As I walk the short distance to the patio door, I see the sun rising in the east, right over the house. I slide the doors open and grab the go-bag I’d prepared yesterday in a moment of insane optimism. I never actually thought we’d be here, like this, but… Idolike to be prepared for anything.
After we dress, we walk out of the house, locking the door behind us and head for the car. The air is cooler this morning, and Maeve has her arms wrapped around herself. I open her door. She gives me a small smile before she slides in, and I lean down to kiss her before closing the door. I toss the go-bag with last night’s clothes in the trunk before sliding into the driver’s seat. I turn the key and feel the Mustang rumble to life.
We head to the diner down the road, a place that still seems to be stuck in the sixties. Neon signs and chrome trim line the outside, and on the inside, shiny red booths, black-and-white checkered floors, and chrome accents make the place feel like a time capsule.
We walk inside, and I look down the long counter, with red swivel stools and stooped old men drinking their morning coffee. The walls are covered in vintage posters, old-school Cola signs, and photos of Elvis and Marilyn. I look over at Maeve, who is looking around with wide eyes.
“This place still looks the same,” she says.
I smile and wrap an arm around her waist. A waitress wearing a t-shirt and dark jeans greets us, grabbing menus before escorting us to a booth near the side exit. She places down the menus and silverware, taking our drink orders before leaving us to decide on food. She returns shortly after, and I watch Maeve as she spouts her order out, hearing none of it myself. Her hair is pulled into a messy bun, and the long sleeve she’s wearing is a V-neck that gives me a perfect view of her braless chest.
Stunning.
“And you, sir?” The waitress asks, bringing me back.
“I’ll have the same, thank you.” The waitress nods, then strolls off. Maeve is giving me an amused look. “What?”
“Since when do you eat carbs?”
“I eat whatever I feel like. I can’t help that my diet has been quite bland for a while.” A flash of realization reflects in her eyes before she looks down into her drink. I change the subject quickly. “So, I have to fly to Ireland on Monday. Would you like to join me?”
She looks up at me from her chocolate milk, straw still in her mouth, and eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“You want me to go with you to Ireland?” she says, disbelief in her voice.
“Well,” I say, cupping my chin in my hand and pretending to consider her question carefully, “weareroommates now. Friends, even. Friends take trips together, right?”
“Hmmmmm,” she intones, looking around with her thumb on her chin, clearly mocking me. “I guess friends take trips together. Idohave a client scheduled for Monday afternoon, but I suppose I could reschedule them for next month.”
I grin at her and lean back into the booth, draping an arm across the top of the backrest. “What do you say we head into the city and order furniture for the house? We could have it all delivered while we’re away.”
She grins at me, her face lighting up.
“Uh, this is what Ilive for,Callum Egan, so yes. Although I don’t think you know what you’ve just signed yourself up for,” she says, taking another sip of her chocolate milk. I feel the side of my mouth lifting in a half-smile as I watch her. Last night’s mascara still lingers on her lashes, and the faint smudge of eyeshadow made the green in her eyes look bright.
My focus is broken by the sound of Maeve’s phone ringing. And, it’s a ringtone I know all too well.
Nessa.
Maeve just stares at the screen for a moment, then hits ignore and tucks it into her pocket as the waitress returns with our food. Steaming plates of bacon and eggs, and…
“Here are those pecan pie slices!” the waitress says, placing the plates before us.
“Enjoy!” she says brightly as she hurries over to the next booth.
“Don’t judge me,” Maeve says, grabbing her fork and digging into the pie. “I like to have a treat every now and then.”
I smile and pick up my own fork. “No judgment here,mo agra. Never.” I save my pie for last, but true to her word, Maeve tackles hers first, just in case she dies before dessert, as she used to say.
“I love you, too,” she says through a mouthful of pie. It sounded so casual, as though the past nine years had never happened. I look up at her, watching her as she gazes out of the window again, a happy smile on her face.
Shit.
My heart is done for. And I’m completely okay with it.
Chapter 14
