“Ah, so am I forgiven for my grand entrance?” I ask, smirking.
“I suppose so.”
“How about for ignoring you at my birthday party?”
“That was years ago.”
“So it’s forgiven?”
“You did send me tickets, gifts, all kinds of stuff.”
“I wasn’t trying to buy your love, but I was caught up in the moment. I’m sorry.”
“True, you can’t buy my love, but you can make up for it by baking.” She smirks.
“Is the way to your heart with carrot cake?”
“And laughter.”
I jump up from the chair and search the kitchen cabinets and drawers, searching for a birthday candle until I find one. “I owe you an Official Maggie Day wish,” I say before breaking into the happy birthday song, but replacing the happy birthday part with Maggie Day and serenading her.
After she makes a wish, I dig into the cake and offer her a bite.
She giggles and smiles, her cheeks growing rosy. I’m not sure what came over me, but I can’t sit still. Nor can I let her go.
Drawing Maggie to her feet, I lift our arms in a formal dancing position and we sashay across the tile floor. Her palm pressed against mine provides me with an anchor I never before had when in Ireland.
Her smile brings me joy, along with her laughter. Her eyes sparkle as we spin around the room. I’m like a man in a musical, only this is real life and I can’t imagine wanting to give Maggie anything other than the happiest Maggie Day.
I pull her in so we’re standing face to face. The crackling charge rushing through me turns into a rumble. It’s as though an electrical force draws us closer until the space separating us is narrow enough for little more than a whisper to pass through.
“You have a bit of frosting on your lip,” I say.
Her mouth parts.
I lick my lip.
Maggie’s eyes meet mine.
It’s like being in the tunnel at a stadium before a game when all I can hear is the thunder of the crowd and feel the crush of energy and anticipation.
“Can I do something about that?” I ask.
She gives a little nod. I close the space between us, our mouths meeting.
She’s sweet and tentative but gives back as the kiss stretches longer and longer. It’s like neither one of us plans to stop, to let go.
My heart races as though it’s expanding, growing, and making more room for Maggie, when before it had been a small, closed thing, protecting what precious love I’d once had.
I walk her backward until she’s perched on the edge of the farm table.
She circles her arms around me, but we don’t break contact as the kiss continues.
My palms skim her silky hair before gripping her jaw in both hands as I deepen the kiss.
She curls into me, cementing the intensity between us.
My pulse goes mad as it throbs with a simple truth.
