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Even if, at the very notion of disappointing Daphne, her insides roiled.

To calm the torrential storm inside of her, Maisie looked out the window as the shops shifted to houses, knowing she was drawing close. Her stomach tossed now for a different reason—a much more pleasant reason.

Finn had offered to pick her up, but she figured an Uber would be the better bet to ensure they kept as many rules as possible.

Her phone buzzed, and she looked down at her text from Dad, smiling as she read over his words.

Dad

I know you’re going to be safe there and I trust you but just make sure to Violet I’m texting Maisie just a second sorry I’m voice to texting and don’t know how to turn it off anyway just make sure to call us if you ever need anything and tell this Finn guy that if he tries anything your daddy’s a cattle rancher and I’ll do to him what we do to our ornery bulls that will strike the fear of Heaven within him anyway just know that we love you so much and are so proud of you and can’t wait to see you love you bye dad.

Maisie’s spirits instantly perked. Her parents were truly the best. Focusing on their support, she silenced any future texts from Daphne, then drew a deep breath as the car pulled to a stop in front of a quaint, terraced house.

Thanking the driver, she stepped out of the car, then stood on the sidewalk as he drove away, her stomach jostling with nerves as she faced the house.

It was a lovely little home—ivy crawling up one side of it, orange brick covering the top half, and white stucco framing the bottom windows. Mid-height hedges lined the small pathway leading toward the dark, wooden door, and potted flowers on the porch sprouted in pink and purple bursts of color.

The large bay window at the front jutted forth from the rest of the house, while white curtains were drawn inside to prevent any sight indoors, though the glass reflected the gray skies above.

Maisie couldn’t help but smile. The whole image reflected nothing less than the love and respect the O’Meara’s held for their home.

She took a step toward the house, reaching for the small wrought-iron gate in front of her, and just as she swung it forward, Finn appeared, opening the front door with a broad smile.

Her heart sputtered like a car out of fuel, then returned in full force to take her breath away at the sight of him.

Before coming here, she’d spent forever getting ready, ensuring every lock of hair was curled to perfection, that her shoes were spotless, and that her dress was unwrinkled.

Now, seeing Finn with his flat cap off, his hair thick and wavy, a green cable-knit cardigan across his chest, and scruff sprawling along his jaw, she was glad she spent the time she did.

Because Finn was perfect.

“You made it,” he said, closing the door behind him before stuffing his hands in his pockets and walking down to meet her.

“Yeah,” she said, slightly breathless as he approached.

He held open the gate to the small front yard. “Come on in, then,” he said.

“Thank you,” she managed, stepping through the gate and catching his earthy cologne on the way.

She looked up at the house again, just to avoid staring at him for longer.

“It’s not much,” Finn said, coming up to stand beside her, “but it works for us.”

She shook her head. “I think it’s perfect.”

His eyes fell on her, but she didn’t dare look at him with how close he stood. She was already weak-willed enough with him.

He led the way forward, then, and as they entered the house, Maisie was welcomed with the scent of warm bread as laughter reached around the corner where she removed her shoes with Finn in the coatroom.

She chewed anxiously at her lower lip, Finn taking her jacket and hanging it up for her.

“Are you ready?” Finn asked, pausing.

Between the knowledge of meeting Finn’s parents and grandparents and spending further time with his friends while still trying to impress each one of them—meanwhile continually ignoring the desire she had to jump into Finn’s arms and plant a humongous kiss on his lips—she didn’t think she’d ever be ready.

But she nodded all the same and allowed him to show her the rest of the way into the house.

Rounding the corner into the O’Meara’s family room was like stepping back in time. A glass door cabinet filled with porcelain figurines of bunnies took up space at one end, while a hearth—white and broad, with bird statues and glass jars of boiled sweets—took up the other.