Chapter Eight
Maisie
Waking up with a smile on my face and sore muscles is the last thing I expect, but I don’t let myself get into my head about it.
Zip lining was fun, even if it wreaked havoc on my body, which is used to sitting all day.
But revisiting a restaurant we used to love was a different kind of fun—familiar and comforting.
The live band was entertaining, and Warren and I managed to hold a conversation without any arguing—so I’d call that a win.
“You look lovely, dear.” Mom grins when I come down for breakfast.
Sundays are church days, rain or shine, and since I’m home, I’m expected to tag along.
“Thanks, Mama. So do you.”
She beams, and I wonder if my father remembers to compliment her after three decades of marriage.
“Hi, Daddy.” I go to the front of the table and kiss his cheek.
“Mornin’, sweetheart. You got in late.”
I drag my sweaty palms down my dress and hope he can’t hear my heart thumping. The blood rushes to my ears as I contemplate what to say.
Pulling out my chair, I sit and fan my napkin out on my lap. “I met up with an old friend in Jonesborough for dinner. We got to talkin’ and stayed to watch the band.”
My gaze shifts to my mother, who’s trying not to act obvious at knowing who I’m talking about. It must be enough to appease my father because he quickly drops it and starts talking to the housekeeper to get him another plate of pancakes.
Mom blurts that he doesn’t need more carbs, but Dad ignores her and stuffs them down his throat anyway.
Meanwhile, I recap everything in my mind that happened yesterday and wonder how I’m going to survive the next six days with Warren. Things started rocky in the beginning, but it transitioned into one of the most fun evenings I’ve had in a while.
It reminded me I need to do better at taking breaks and not working myself to death.
Especially since I’m not even thirty and am waking up with sore muscles from being active for less than an hour.
While Dad drives us to church, I text Hayes since we didn’t talk much last night. By the time I got home, I was exhausted.
Maisie
Morning, honey. How’d writing go last night?
Hayes
Still going.
My eyes widen. It’s almost nine in the morning.
Maisie
You’ve been up for twenty-four hours. Go to sleep.
Hayes
I’m finishing up this chapter and then I will.
Maisie
Okay good. Call me when you’re up.
Hayes
I’ll text so I can stay focused.
My stomach drops, but this is how he gets during his deadlines and I can’t take it personally.
Maisie
Alright. Good luck.
Hayes
Thanks.
Maisie
Love you!
Hayes
XO
He’s reached the point of over exhaustion, but I wish he’d listen to his body and rest instead of pushing himself to the brink. Although I can’t talk much given my own unhealthy habits, but writing is a different beast where it wears on him mentally as well as physically.
When he’s in the drafting phase, he’s constantly thinking about his book and will abruptly get up from the dinner table to go write something down so he doesn’t forget it .
I’m not a writer, so I don’t get those sudden bursts of creative energy, but I understand it’s part of his process.
After shaking strangers’ hands and getting pulled into random hugs from my parents’ friends who haven’t seen me in a few years, I’m relieved when we get back in the car.
My lips twitch when I find a text from Warren about his day two plans.
Warren
Up for a picnic?
Maisie
Is this another no heels outing?
Warren
I wouldn’t recommend wearing them, no.
I roll my eyes, knowing he’s probably rolling his too.
Maisie
Sure. When?
Warren
Around noon.
That gives me enough time to get home, change, and drive over there.
Maisie
I’ll be there.
I don’t know why I’m nervous, especially after how well yesterday went, but maybe that’s why I am. Warren and I being best friends and attracted to each other was never a problem in our relationship. But I buried my feelings for him and that’s where they need to stay.
Getting over him was the most heartbreaking experience I went through.
And it took years .
I can’t go through that again.
We need to leave the past in the past, and I need to prove that to him during these next six days.
There’s no reason to confuse our familiarness with chemistry. He lives here and enjoys the slow-moving life. I did too at one point, but now I thrive on staying busy and having a packed schedule.
Even though he said no heels, I think cowboy boots and a sundress will work for a picnic. Assuming he’s not making me climb up a mountain to get to said picnic.
“Where’re you headed?” Mama asks before I can sneak out the front door.
Well, not so much as sneaking as I didn’t want her to notice.
Licking my lips, I avert my gaze. “He’s takin’ me on a picnic. No big deal.”
She purses her lips, but the disappointment flashes across her face.
“As friends,” I add. “I told him nothin’ was gonna happen between us.”
“And you believe that?”
Crossing my arms, I nod. “Yes, Mama. I told you why I’m doin’ this, so you need to trust me.”
“I do, sweetheart. It’s him I don’t trust. ”
I blow out a breath, drop my arms, and lean in to kiss her cheek. “I’ll see you when I get back.”
As soon as I pull into Warren’s driveway, I find him waiting for me—on a four-wheeler.
“Please tell me we’re not…” I motion toward the death machine.
His eyes lower down my body, to my boots, and then back up to my face. They’re full of heat and confusion.
“You said no heels,” I explain. “You didn’t say no dress.”
He bites the inside of his cheek, holding in a laugh. “Fair point, but you’re gonna wanna tuck your dress in between your thighs.”
I don’t know why that makes my neck go hot, but I ignore it.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” I drag my palms down my sides, hoping like hell I can tame it enough so it doesn’t blow up in the wind.
“Alright, well, hop on.” He scoots forward.
“I thought we were goin’ on a picnic.”
“We are. I brought everythin’ up there already.”
“Up where?” I ask, grabbing onto his shoulder so I can climb on behind him.
He glances over his shoulder, smirking. “You’ll see.”
When the four-wheeler rumbles to life, the vibrations shake against my exposed legs, and I quickly tuck the material underneath them as much as I can.
“Ready?” He speaks loudly over the noise. “You’re gonna need to hang onto me.”
“Um…where?”
Without responding, he grabs my hands with both of his and wraps them around his waist. Then he pulls them tighter around him until my chest is pressed against his back .
“Hang on and don’t let go,” are his final words before taking off down his driveway.
I haven’t been on one of these since before we got married. High school, probably. He’d take me on rides all around the ranch and resort, up the trails into the mountains, and sometimes race with his best friend, who’d come over and add to the chaos.
It’s impossible not to smile at how much fun it is riding with him. Although he’s going fast and moving up and down little mounds throughout, I feel safe with him. He knows exactly what he’s doing to stay in control while making it fun.
“Is that laughter I hear?” he taunts, smirking over his shoulder.
Grinning wide, I reply by jabbing a finger in his rib cage.
“Hey, cheap shot.” He covers my hand with his but doesn’t remove it. Instead, he continues driving one-handed while softly rubbing a finger over my knuckles.
My words to ask him to stop doing that get caught in my throat. It shouldn’t feel as comforting as it does.
Warren slows us down, and I notice we’re close to where he took me to when he first asked me to be his girlfriend. He’d packed us lunches of PB&J sandwiches and little bags of chips. At fifteen, I thought it was the most romantic thing ever.
It was pretty sweet, though.
“We’re here.” He turns off the four-wheeler, then shifts until our gazes meet. “Do you want help gettin’ off?”
I realize my grip on him has tightened. “Oh, um, no. I think I can manage.”
I, in fact, cannot manage.
Forgetting I tucked my dress under my thighs, I nearly fall to my death when I stand to slide my leg over. Luckily, Warren catches my waist and pulls me into him before I steady myself on the footrest.
Wrapping my arm around his neck, I hold on to him tightly, breathing through the panic.
“Oh, shit.” Our faces are close— too close —so I pull back and try to brace myself to step down.
“You alright?” The look of concern on his face makes my chest ache.
I nod. “Yeah, thanks for catchin’ me.”
“Always.” Then he fucking winks.
Was he always this charming or did I forget?
Once I’ve safely mastered putting two feet on the ground, Warren climbs off next.
“Ready?”
“Depends…are you gonna make me BASE jump next?” I shiver at the thought of jumping off a cliff with a parachute.
He chuckles, grabbing my hand and leading me up the trail. “Haven’t done that, but maybe I should add it to my bucket list.”
I’m not even surprised.
“Ugh, I forgot how outdoorsy you are.” I groan when the heels of my feet rub against my boots.
“Outdoorsy?” He snickers. “You used to be adventurous, too. Cliff-jumpin’, swimmin’, horseback ridin’, campin’ in tents, and passin’ out in sleepin’ bags. You never wanted to be inside.”
“I was a teenager who wanted any reason to stay out of my parents’ house. Even now, it’s tense and cold in there.”
The Langstons’ home was the complete opposite. Warm and inviting, we’d hang out in the living room with his siblings and play games or watch movies, laughing most of the night. It was a contrast to the way I grew up .
“Speakin’ of your folks, do they know?” he asks, glancing at me before shifting back to the trail in front of us.
Sighing, I nod. “Only my mother knows about the… deal . She warned me not to tell my father, so he’s only aware that you haven’t signed the papers.”
“Well…I never was on their good sides, no point in tryin’ now.”
I snort. “That’s one way to look at it.”
When we finally get to the top, my mouth falls open at the picnic Warren set up for us. Instead of a blanket over grass, it’s a full setup on the flat gravel overlooking the other side of the mountains.
A table, two chairs, a vase of purple and pink roses—my favorite colors—and a spread of food.
“Wow, Warren…this is—” I look at him in awe, shocked he’d go to so much trouble for a lunch date.
“This is what I thought I was doin’ when I first brought you up here to ask you to be mine. My resources were a smidge limited back then.”
I can’t help smiling. “It’s quite the upgrade from PB&J sandwiches.”
He smirks, shrugging. “Thought it’d be fun to revisit, even as old friends . But I also wanted to show off my cookin’ skills.”
“What’d you make?” I walk closer, but he stays next to me.
“It’s nothin’ fancy…” He lifts one of the plate covers and reveals something that looks delicious. “Homemade croissants with walnut chicken salad.”
“You—” I point at him. “Made that?”
“All from scratch.”
“When did you have time to do all this?”
“I can never sleep in, even when I have the day off.” He shrugs it off like it’s no big deal, but I think this is one of the sweetest things I’ve ever experienced.
It’s not flashy, which I appreciate considering how over the top my parents are and how every time Hayes and I go out to a restaurant, I have to be in full glam or I’ll stand out for being underdressed.
Warren pulls out one of the chairs and waits for me to sit before pushing me in.
“The view hasn’t changed, though. It’s so beautiful.” The sun’s high in the sky, reflecting over the trees and rivers that travel through the valleys.
“It really is.” His voice is so low, I almost don’t hear him, but then I find his gaze on me instead.
He lifts the other plate covers and reveals a fruit and dessert platter.
“Damn, you’re gonna have to carry me back after makin’ me eat all of this.” But it looks so good, I wouldn’t even care.
We dig in, and I moan at how good the croissant tastes, then make him tell me how the hell he made it. I always wanted to learn to cook, especially since my mother never did. We always had a personal chef to cater all our meals.
But my job always came first, so I never made time.
“Maybe one of our dates can be you teachin’ me how to make something.”
His brow arches, and I laugh at his shocked face. “You’d wanna learn?”
“Assumin’ I can…” I drawl.
“If I can figure out how to use an oven, I have no doubt you can.”
“I appreciate the confidence, but I smoked out my entire apartment floor when I hit the broil button instead of bake.”
Warren chokes on the grape he popped into his mouth and has a coughing fit trying to get it out.
“Shit, are you okay?” I’m halfway out of my seat when he holds up a hand and nods.
“That”—he takes a drink, swallowing hard—“is impressive work, even for you.”
“Yeah, they sent me an eviction notice the next week.”
“I’ll make sure to have a fire extinguisher on hand.”
“I appreciate that,” I say, laughing, and he does too.
We continue talking while we eat. I gush about some of the Broadway shows I’ve seen and he tells me about Silas and his soon-to-be wife.
“How’d they meet?” I ask because I don’t remember anyone local named Aundrea.
“You’re gonna love this.” He smirks, shaking his head. “A sugar daddy datin’ app.”
My jaw drops, but I cover it with my napkin since I just took a bite of food.
“ Silas ? A sugar daddy?” I burst out laughing, unable to control myself.
“To be fair, he was dared to sign up.”
“Who would da—” I pause when he grins wider. “ You dared him?”
“We were drunk.”
“Clearly.”
“It worked, though. He met Aundrea a few days later and they’ve been together ever since. That was two years ago.”
“Wow…that’s hilarious.”
“Don’t worry, he got me back with his own dare.”
“Do I wanna know?”
“Nope. ”
Silas was a skinny, nerdy kid in high school and never had girlfriends. But it’s safe to assume he’s changed since I’ve seen him.
“She made her father hire him at his home construction company and pay him a higher salary so he could spend more money on her.”
I can’t stop laughing at this whole story. “Can’t hate her for findin’ a loophole.”