Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Finn’s phone buzzed every few seconds in his pocket, and he smiled as he imagined the lads texting in the group chat. He really shouldn’t be enjoying the torment he was causing them, but it was just too fun.
He’d settle their questions soon enough, but for now, he was going to enjoy this ride with Maisie.
Well, he was going to enjoy it as much as he could, what with his backside growing numb from discomfort. Who made these seats, anyway? They must have the smallest rear ends known to man.
He shifted again, and a grunt slipped past his lips.
“You doing alright over there?” Maisie asked.
She made riding and sitting on the seats appear effortless, her cheeks rosy and smile unending.
“Oh, aye. Just wonderin’ who created this torture device they call a bicycle seat.”
She let out a bubbly laugh. “It’s not that bad, is it?”
He motioned to her bunched-up dress, the adorable bustle still sticking out behind her. “This comin’ from the woman sittin’ on a comfy bunny’s tail.”
“I’m not sitting on it. It’s clearly above the seat.” Then she raised her chin with a feigned air of superiority. “I’m just choosing not to complain.”
“Complainin’ helps me cope, I’ll have you know.”
“You could always turn back if you need to,” she said next. “I’m sure Eamon would love the company. He was giving you plenty of chances to back out before.”
Blasted fella. He’d blown Finn’s cover alright. “Ach, I know, but what sort of tour guide would I be if I let one of me own passengers ride ’round the island alone?”
“Anything for those good reviews, right?”
“Aye, that’s right,” he said with heart. “Cause I’m a Norn Irishman, and Norn Irishmen put in the work to get what we rightly deserve. Unless we’re too knackered. Or peckish. Or it’s rainin’ out.”
She smiled with amusement, facing forward again. Boys a dear, she was pretty. That little dimple that appeared just above the end of her curved lip. Her gorgeous hair and up-turned nose. Her joyful spirits despite the cold air.
He’d wondered if he was coming on too strongly, what with his flirting and coming out there with her today. But each time he teased her, Maisie responded in-turn, which only encouraged him to continue.
He hadn’t been pulling his friends’ legs. He really could see himself considering a relationship with Maisie—if she didn’t live halfway round the world, that is. Which was exactly why he was laying on the charm so thickly. She’d be gone in two weeks, and she’d take his wee crush with her. Then he’d be left to himself again, continuing with the most important job he had—which was keeping his job.
Because as tempted as he was to throw caution to the wind and imagine some sort of future with this lovely American morsel, he was determined to do right by his family and make a sensible decision for the first time in his life. He owed his family that much. Anyway, he’d known her for exactly two days, and that was definitely not long enough to make any lasting decisions.
Over the next two weeks, though, he’d enjoy his time flirting with this absolute treasure.
“So when you’re not riding bikes,” Maisie said, breaking through his thoughts, “which I’m sure I can safely assume you never do?—”
“That’d be correct,” Finn interrupted.
“—what do you usually do while on the island?”
“I stay in the warmth of the Puffin’s Perch on a cushioned chair with a cuppa. You know, with folks who move at more of me own pace.”
“Ah, so, like, Pearl, Joyce, and Renee.”
He tapped the side of his nose. “Right you are, Maisie King.”
Funny enough, Finn had been spending that morning with those very women. Then after having a bant with them—and that blasted Trifle who still did not like him—he’d attempted to speak with the Waterstones. Mrs. Waterstone was as welcoming as a wet doormat and her husband, who’d managed to lower his phone for a few minutes, had gone on and on about how much better their Virgin Voyage cruise had been when compared to Finn’s tour. Needless to say, Finn had broken away to chat with the Beauchênes quickly after that.
A few minutes in with the French couple, and he’d spotted Maisie renting a bike, so he’d made his excuses and rushed out to catch her before she left. At that point, he’d spent enough time with the others on the bus to not feel badly focusing on her again.
She was a lovely thing to focus on, too. More than his aching backside.
He adjusted his rear with another grunt. That needle seat would be the death of him, so it would.
“Is it really that uncomfortable?” Maisie asked as he shifted again. “Or are you just not used to physical activity?”
He picked up on her teasing tone instantly. “I’ll have you know, I’m quite fit, alright? This weekend, I’m racin’ in a charity run with me mates. A full five kilometers, I’ll have you know.”
“Okay, that’s respectable enough.”
“Respectable?” he questioned. “That’s proper impressive, so it is. Unless you’re one of those Americans who do ultra marathons.”
“Ew, no,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “No, I’m a terrible runner. I’m more of a bike-rider and yoga-doer.”
“Well, truth be told, I’m more of a reach-into-a-bag-of-crisps-and-put-me-hand-to-my-mouth-while-I-read-a-wee-book kind of exerciser.”
She laughed. “Then why are you running this weekend?”
“I was forced into it, see. Me mates from school sign up twice a year as an excuse to get together. But lately, I’m startin’ to think…are they worth it if I have to run to see ’em?”
“It does sound like a bit of a ruse,” she joked. “How long have you known them for? Your friends, I mean.”
“Goin’ on fifteen years. We met at college.”
She kept her right hand on the handlebar and leaned back in her seat, stretching out from side to side. “Your college is different from ours, right? You start at age…”
“Well, typically sixteen,” he explained. “But thirteen is when I went to Eton. It’s a boardin’ school near London.”
“Oh, really? So you were there until you graduated at, what, eighteen?”
The regret he typically experienced at any mention of his brief college days knocked at his nerves, but he answered it in the way he usually did—with self-deprecation and humor.
“Ach, I would’ve been eighteen. All my friends graduated then, but I lasted barely half a year.”
She raised her eyebrows. “What happened?”
“I was kicked out…” He looked over at her with a daring eye. “For breakin’ the rules.”
He wasn’t surprised at her smile. Most people thought he was kidding. He preferred it that way. But in reality, he’d been expelled for something utterly stupid. He’d been senseless, and he’d paid for it. His family had, too. But he finally felt like he was making it up to them now by helping Da.
Still, he didn’t want to open up that can of worms.
They fell into single file again as they passed by an older couple biking. Finn glanced at her bunny tail once more, smiling as he caught up to her. She’d been so adept at swooping it up. Had she done it before on her travels around Europe with Mrs. Parker?
At the thought, his mind strayed to another question. “So what was it that pulled your auntie home?”
“She was losing an investor for the restaurant, so she left to butter him up.” She raised a shoulder. “We’ll see if it works.”
“You don’t seem very hopeful,” he said.
“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’m extremely hopeful. If anyone can convince someone to do something, it’s Daphne. I’m just sad to see her go, that’s all, but work comes first.”
He wanted to fault Daphne for leaving Maisie here on her own, but who was he to judge when he was putting his own job over everything else, just to ensure his family was taken care of?
“It must be hard not havin’ her with you,” he said.
“It is,” Maisie agreed. “But I’m not going to complain. Not when she’s putting in so much effort for us to work together.”
“That’s admirable of her.”
She looked away. “Yeah, it is.”
Her words trailed off, as if she was falling deep in thought, but he couldn’t help but ask another question. He was having far too grand a time to stop talking now. “So have you always wanted to open up a restaurant?”
“Well, the restaurant is kinda Daphne’s thing. I just want to work with food in some way.”
“Like a chef?” he asked.
“Oh, no. That would be too stressful. No. I have degrees in culinary arts, food science, and chemistry, so I could do a lot of different things. But mostly, I just love eating food. So taste testing around Europe and creating a menu has been great.”
Finn listened in amazement. She was so educated, so motivated. And what was he? A college drop-out who’d barely finished secondary school. Oh, and a bus driver .
Still, he was happy enough with his own life choices to not feel too insecure about his lack of accomplishments compared to hers.
“That’s cracker, travelin’ all over,” he began. “Not many folks get to live out their dreams like that.”
A shadow moved over her features as she stared at the road ahead of them, but it vanished in a heartbeat.
“What about you?” she asked, though he could tell her smile was more forced than usual. “Are you living out your dreams?”
“Oh, aye. To be sure,” he answered in earnest. “I love me job. It’s nothin’ grand like what you’ve done, but I’m happy with it just the same.”
A soft look touched Maisie’s eyes. “Sometimes, the best dreams are the humble ones.”
There had been times when Finn had felt the judgments of others when he’d shared his simple dreams with them. He could see it in their eyes as he told them he was quite content being a tour guide. Some women avoided him altogether, while others laughed, figuring he was joking.
But Maisie? Aside from the support he’d received from his parents, he’d never felt so accepted.
“So what do you like about your job, then?” she asked.
“Hearin’ me own voice, mostly,” he replied. She laughed before he continued. “Naw, I just love me country, and I love gettin’ to share that love with others. I also love drivin’ and entertainin’, so it’s a no-brainer for me.”
She nodded, taking a minute to respond as they reached the crest of a small hill. “I get that. That’s how it was for me, too. Food is the greatest love of my life.”
“More than any wee fella?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Is that your clever way to ask if I have a boyfriend? ”
“Aye, it is. Can you blame me, after you got your question in?”
“No, I can’t. And no, I don’t have a wee fella .”
“Grand. I like to know the women I’m flirtin’ with are available.”
“ Women ?” she asked. “As in, multiple?”
“Oh, aye. Pearl, Joyce, Renee. I’ve asked ’em all, you know.”
They reached the top of another dip of yet another hill, this time meeting with a steeper incline. Instead of fighting against gravity with already wary legs, Finn and Maisie got off their bikes and pushed them up the hill—much to the relief of Finn’s backside.
The cold air pinched at their cheeks with wet fingertips as they traveled through the mist that roved across the island, the light gray and cozy.
“So me next question is this,” he began, both of them leaning forward against their bikes’ handlebars as they made their way up the hill, “if you had both, what would you love more, a fella or food?”
Maisie blew out a heavy breath. “Ooh, now that’s an excellent question. I’m sorry to say it, but I think I’d go with food. It very rarely lets me down, and I literally can’t live without it.”
“Right. Remind me to never become your boyfriend.”
They reached the top of the hill, coming to a lookout point with a view of the ocean—or where a view would have been, were it not for the heavy fog.
Together, they pushed their bikes off the road for a breather, their tires leaving an indentation in the wet, green grass as rain dribbled down around them.
“Just yonder is Ballycastle,” he said, pointing through the mist, though no sight of the land could be found across the sea. “And beyond that, you’d see more of the beautiful country, if Norn Iron ever behaved.”
But of course, Maisie didn’t complain. She never did. Instead, she merely smiled as she cast her eyes around them as if she could still see the sites.
Honestly, he didn’t think he could ever grow tired of watching the woman look at his country. There was admiration in those warm eyes that he couldn’t help but admire himself.
She caught him staring in the next moment, giving him an innocent smile with those soft, pink lips, but he tore his gaze away. He needed to be careful. Aye, he kept the rules of the company—maintaining a proper distance from passengers, keeping his hands to himself, doing nothing inappropriate. Aside from a little harmless flirting, there was nothing else between him and Maisie.
But if he kept looking at her like that, admiring her like that…Well, he could easily see himself bending the rules—rules that were in place for him and his family’s security. Best to keep his wits about him.
He faced the sea again, stretching out his arms and removing his knapsack to give his back a break, when the crumpling of paper inside stole his attention.
He’d forgotten he’d brought the package from his ma today.
“Now don’t go eatin’ them all at once, Finny boy,” she’d told him.
How glad he was that he’d finally listened to his ma’s advice.
“Fancy a bite?” he asked, digging into his knapsack.
“Oh, yes, please.”
“Even without knowin’ what it is I’m offerin’? What if I held up anchovies?”
“I’d eat it even if they were your own personal fish.”
He pulled on a look of horror, and she laughed.
A minute later, he extracted the package, then unfolded the brown paper in front of Maisie, extending it toward her.
“So…what are they?” she asked, intrigue in her eyes.
“A wee delicacy, they are. Straight from me ma’s kitchen. Fifteens.”