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This time next week, she’d be headed back to the States—but he’d also be free to pursue her. If he had to do that virtually before anything else, so be it. Still, the last thing he wanted to do was scare her off with his intentions, so he settled with a different reply.
“Technically speakin’,” he began, “you’re still part o’ me tour, even if I am off-duty for the weekend, so if we were on a date now—which we aren’t—the rules would still apply.”
She seemed to mull over his response.
“You didn’t know I’d be playin’ here tonight, did you?” he asked.
“No, not at all. The hotel receptionist recommended the pub. I didn’t even know you were in a band.”
“I’m just a total package, aren’t I?”
She laughed in response.
“The way I see it,” he continued, “if we just so happened to be in the same place at the same time, and we’re with a group o’ me friends, this can’t be called a date. We’re just havin’ a wee craic without breakin’ any rules.”
He could see the cogs turning in her head as she went over his reasoning.
Finally, she nodded. “Okay. I’ll stay. But only if you’re sure.”
Finn grinned. He’d never been more certain of anything in his life.
Of course, this meant he had to take extra care when he was officially on-duty again, but until then, he was going to enjoy his time with Maisie without those rules breathing down his neck—even if they were still peeping through his locked-tight windows.
Maisie followed him through the pub, then, reaching his group of friends as they greeted them with welcoming smiles.
These lads right here, they were everything to Finn. Like family, they were. To have them meet Maisie was important, if only because he wanted them all to know just how special she was.
The five of them decided on a round-robin tournament on the dart board, though Maisie confessed she’d never played before.
“Actually,” she said, “I’ve literally never even thrown a dart before.”
The group stared. “How is that even possible?” Matthew asked.
She shrugged. “We didn’t do much dart playing where I grew up.”
“That’s no problem, ’course,” Finn defended. He looked at the others. “Maisie here grew up on a farm—”
“A ranch,” she interjected.
“A ranch,” Finn corrected without missing a beat. “So she’d probably beat us all in…” He leaned toward her, talking in a loud whisper and pretending no one else could hear him. “What games did you play?”
“I used to run around and catch pigs,” she said with a shrug.
He looked down at her with a face that said, “Are you havin’ a laugh right now?”
But she nodded again. “I’m serious.”
“Alright,” he began, “Maisie, here, could beat us in any game of Pig Catch there ever was.”
They all shared a laugh as the game commenced. When it came to Maisie’s turn, she held the dart awkwardly in her hand, then launched it toward the dartboard. To everyone’s utter shock, she made it directly in the bull’s eye.
“Never threw a dart, she says,” Finn scoffed.
“I swear, I haven’t!” she said, in as much shock as the others.
Of course, the shot had been beginner’s luck, as the rest of the game, she played abysmally—which made Finn fall for her even more.
Each time she sent the dart flailing past the dart board and into the wall of the pub itself—which shockingly happened more often than not—she did a little gasp, covered her perfect lips with her long fingers, and looked at Finn with wide eyes.