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“Oh, aye. Nothin’ better than your chocolate fudge cake.”

“Ach, you have a heart o’ corn, lad. But I’ll not tell your ma you said that.” She gave him a smile, then waved a hand over her shoulder as she turned around. “Be right back.”

And with that, she disappeared into the kitchens, ducking out of the way of two more servers with plates of food for the hungry patrons.

Finn smiled to himself, turning to face the café as he leaned against the counter with an elbow. He swept his gaze across the room with a happy sigh.

It really was one of his favorite places to be—certainly his favorite café in which to eat. That was, in part, due to the home-away-from-home feeling Mrs. Doherty had effectively captured with the décor and atmosphere.

Broad windows at the back of the café poured cool light throughout the space, brightening the cozy surroundings of the dark yellow walls and red, textured ceiling. Gold and brown frames covered one side of the café, showcasing various photographs and paintings of Mrs. Doherty’s ancestors, while the other walls held framed blackboards with menus written in yellow, blue, and white chalk.

The place was filled to bursting. Dozens of circular tables filled the space, each yellow and red cushioned chair occupied by countless guests—most of whom he recognized from his bus already.

The middle-aged couple from Germany he’d spoken with before, the Schäfers, were enjoying their food in the center of the café, and the family with the teens from the States, the Taylors, were situated near the menus, the parents trying to coerce their kids off their phones.

He was glad they’d taken his suggestion to try out the café, but he felt badly for how crowded it was.

If only the weather had held up, they all could have eaten out on the terrace, which was his favorite place to enjoy the soup. The view from there was stunning.

He peered out the back windows, the image of the sea all-encompassing as the rainclouds shifted the water to a misty, grayish blue.

Instead of the sea capturing his attention for long as it usually did, his eyes shifted to inside the café again, catching sight of that lavender dress and blonde hair that had flashed by him on the bus earlier that morning.

That same lavender dress and blonde hair that had occupied his mind for hours now.

This woman, this Maisie King…she was absolutely charming. Even now, as she sat in the far corner of the café, her chin propped on her hand, she stared out at the view with a hidden smile on her pink lips.

All he wanted to do in that moment was leave his vegetable soup and baps behind to speak with her again—and that was saying something.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted to speak to a girl instead of eating food. But that just went to show what an absolute delight she had been today. From teasing him and taking his teasing, to chatting together without a single awkward silence from her. He had loved every minute of it.

He’d been disappointed to not walk back with her from the falls, but he figured it was probably best to pay attention to some of the other guests for a time.

He needed to get that bonus Joshua had promised.

As a waitress arrived at Maisie’s table, delivering her food off the tray, Finn smiled.

Vegetable soup and a Belfast bap.

She’d taken his advice, then.

He watched her unabashedly for a moment, Maisie clearly unaware of his eyes on her as she stared down at the soup of broth, barley, spuds, and other veggies. She leaned forward, holding her long locks back and taking an extended whiff of the soup, steam curling up from the piping food and swirling around the tip of her nose.

Her eyes closed, and a smile stretched widely across her lips.

He expected her to take a spoonful then, but instead, she rummaged through her bag, pulled out a small pink notebook and pen, then began scribbling across the paper.

Finn narrowed his eyes, his amusement growing.

Was she…taking notes on the food she was eating?

A few moments later, she took a spoonful of the soup, once again closing her eyes and drawing in a deep breath. Finally, with a solid nod, she swallowed and visibly sighed before reaching for her notebook again.

Finn shook his head with delight. The woman was so wonderfully odd. Wearing white shoes in the mud. Stuffing her face full of a bacon butty. Taking notes on her food. He couldn’t wait to see what else she did over the next two weeks.

“Right, here you are,” Mrs. Doherty said, emerging from the kitchens again.

Reluctantly, Finn tore his eyes away from Maisie as Mrs. Doherty reached over the counter and handed him a large bag of takeout containers.