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Maisie cringed. She’d fallen for it again. Whatever had made him stop speaking with her in the first place was clearly still an issue. His gazing at her lips had just thrown her off, turned her into the fool again. She had to be quick to save face.

She forced out a small laugh. “I’m totally kidding,” she said. “Winner gets his choice of ice cream. Loser buys.” She gave Trifle another pat on her head—careful to avoid Finn’s hands altogether this time. “Come on, little pup. Let’s go set Renee’s mind at ease.”

“Maisie…” Finn began.

But she shook her head, motioning down the hallway. “Come on. Let’s go before Trifle realizes you tricked her.”

She gave what she hoped was an easy smile, then led the way forward, praying with every last bit of energy and hope she had that Finn wouldn’t talk to her and tell her what she feared he would.

“The flirtin’s alright, but I’m not interested in anythin’ more, like.”

She blinked away the image of the pity in his eyes, of the words she didn’t want to hear spoken aloud, and nearly ran to the entrance.

By the time they reached Pearl, Joyce, and Renee, Maisie was nearly breathless.

“Oh, Trifle!” Renee said as they approached. “Oh, my darling!” She took her from Finn’s arms. “How can I ever repay the both of you?”

Finn motioned to Maisie. “Maisie’s the one who found her,” he said, trying to give her credit.

But Maisie wasn’t having it. “No, Finn did it all. Somehow, he’s convinced Trifle to like him.”

“I can see that,” Renee said, “letting you hold her and everything.” She rested her cheek against the dog’s puffy brow, then kissed her multiple times.

All the while Trifle merely yawned with boredom.

Renee was typically quite reserved and quiet, but clearly, the relief she felt pulled out a bolder side of her, as she reached toward Finn next, squeezing his cheek in her fingers. “Oh, I could just kiss you, too.”

Finn chuckled.

“He’s far too old for you, Renee,” Joyce joked. “You know you like the younger ones.”

The women giggled like schoolgirls instead of the eighty-somethings they were.

“Ach, you’re just a bunch of flatterers,” Finn said. “But as much as I love the attention, I don’t want to be fired—and I certainly don’t want you lot kicked off the bus. I have to follow the rules, and those rules include not kissin’—or datin’—any of the passengers aboard Bob.” His eyes locked onto Maisie’s. “No matter how badly I might want to.”

Maisie tried to look away, but the depth and gravity in Finn’s dark gaze held onto her, conveying exactly what he was feeling.

He was talking about her.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Day Four

Maisie wasn’t often in a bad mood. But that morning, she’d woken up sulking. Her restless sleep the night before hadn’t helped. She’d been inundated with infuriating dreams—being chased by a bear up an impossible-to-climb hill, not knowing a single answer on her math test from high school, losing a front tooth right before a big date.

All of them had just piled dirt into the graveyard of her good mood. To add insult to injury, the sun was shining for the first time since Maisie had arrived in the country. The energy was buzzing on the bus that morning, the warmth of the sun brightening the rows of passengers and filling the air with a lively atmosphere.

And the view? It was unmatched. The sea was a vibrant sapphire blue, and the surrounding hillsides were mind-blowingly green.

Maisie, however, wasn’t feeling any of it.

The conversations taking place around her on Bob—even Mr. Waterstone having put down his phone to speak with his wife, who seemed more than pleased to have his attention—was just a cruel reminder how alone Maisie really was. Because not only did she not have Daphne with her, she could also no longer rely on having the bus driver for company.

Sure, she and Finn could chat, perhaps even flirt. But the rules were clear. Nothing could happen between them.

That didn’t seem to bother Finn, though. In fact, he appeared to be back to his normal self today, happily joking with the tour and coaxing the group to join in with his singing as they made their way to their first stop. He’d even smiled jovially at Maisie in the rearview mirror a time or two.

Maisie, however, could only smile half-heartedly in return. She’d spent an hour last night dodging her aunt’s questions about Finn, each time redirecting the conversation to the menu Maisie had sent her.