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Maisie laughed. “I do feel better, yes. Thank you again.”

His smile softened. “Friends, then?”

Maisie nodded. “Friends.”

His eyes lingered on hers before dropping to her mouth. He pulled in his lower lip, giving it a little lick that sent her heart racing before he looked away.

“Friends,” he repeated, as if trying to remind himself. “Would you like to walk with me back up to the bus? I’d hate for you to be late again.”

She nodded, and she made to stand before he extended his hand to her. Maisie would have had no trouble standing up by herself, but his offer was so gallant, she couldn’t refuse. She stood with his help, his fingers warm around her cold hands as swirls of energy sailed up her arm like magic.

His hand lingered for a moment after she straightened, but he soon released his hold of her and said once again, “Friends.” Then he motioned for her to precede him across the pillars. “Watch your step. These rocks are slippy.”

As she did so, leading the way across the columns, Maisie stepped carefully, looking up and catching sight of the Uncks making their way from the rocks to the paved road, as well as the Waterstones.

Mrs. Waterstone’s eyes were fixed on Maisie and Finn, though she looked away in the next minute without another glance.

Just as Maisie had figured she would, a fission of guilt entered her heart regarding the words she’d said to her yesterday. She needed to be kinder to the woman. Maybe Mrs. Waterstone was living without hope, too.

With renewed resolve to spread kindness, Maisie walked the rest of the way to the bus with Finn. Her spirits had improved drastically, though something else was beginning to take root in her heart—a concern, though a good one.

Now that Finn had just admitted that he liked her…she had no idea how on earth she was going to keep away from him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Day Five

Maisie couldn’t believe the first week of the tour was already coming to an end. After five days, she was beginning to feel that familiar stress that always popped up when vacations wound down—the stress that promised of time speeding up and of her moments in the country coming swiftly to an end.

She just wasn’t ready for it. Yes, she still had a week. But the thought of leaving Northern Ireland—of leaving Finn—was more than enough to amp up her desire to make each day count.

She’d said goodbye to those on the bus that morning as they’d returned to Belfast. The weekend would be unscheduled visits around the bustling city, then the tour would meet up again come Monday to explore the west and south of Northern Ireland. Until then, Maisie had the entire weekend to herself to do what she would.

While she would have rather spent more time with Finn, she focused on her plans to keep her mind busy, stopping at every café and restaurant she could until her stomach was stuffed full of soup, bread, and more desserts than she could name. Her notebook was full to bursting, too—even though most of the recent food hadn’t been noteworthy—and her time around Belfast had certainly been memorable.

The only problem was that even though she’d kept busy to avoid her mind straying to Finn, that didn’t stop her eyes from playing tricks on her, thinking that she saw him in every restaurant, around every corner, and on every bus.

Of course, she wasn’t helping herself by pulling up his photos on her phone occasionally throughout the day, but that was beside the point.

When the day finally wound down, the rain had once again flicked on, so Maisie left another disappointing restaurant, wanting nothing more in that moment than to head directly to Doherty’s for some heartwarming vegetable soup.

Instead, she remained in Belfast and arrived back at her hotel after dark, checking in at the front desk and ready to sleep until morning.

“Evenin’,” the woman behind the counter greeted, her nametag reading Erin Campbell. “Checkin’ in?”

Maisie nodded. “Yes, for Maisie King.”

“Part of Northern Irish Rovin’ Bus Tours?”

Maisie nodded. A few people on the tour were staying in the same hotel, as a discount had been provided for booking with them. She’d seen the Taylors and the Waterstones already there when she’d dropped off her bags that morning.

Oh, that reminded her. “I left my bags here earlier?”

“Aye,” Mrs. Campbell said. “I’ll have ’em fetched for you.”

She clicked a few buttons on her computer, then sent a nearby worker to retrieve the luggage Maisie had stored in the hotel. “I trust you’ve been enjoyin’ your time in Belfast.”

“Absolutely,” Maisie said. “It’s a beautiful city.”