3. Maizie #3
Jude preens next to his woman. We all know how they started—and the way they like to settle arguments. Lucy is hardly the don’t kiss and tell type.
“Oh, look. You have some interest already, and I just set this up a few hours ago,” she says, holding her phone in my face. There’s a picture of a perfectly handsome man staring back at me.
“Let me see that,” I say, grabbing her phone from her hand.
I exit out of the picture she was showing me and find the profile she made.
The picture is one of me laughing at Knox’s birthday party a few months ago.
It’s actually not too bad. In my profile, she’s written that I’m twenty-eight and work in the hospitality industry.
I live in the greater Boston area, and I love kids and enjoy nature when I’m not working.
“See, I didn’t put where exactly you live since, you know, there’re weirdos on the internet who pretend to be people they aren’t.”
“Like you pretending to be Maizie?” Mia asks.
“It’s for the greater good,” Lucy retorts. “And I said you like kids, which you do, but I didn’t say that you have one since, you know…weirdos and all that.”
“What about this part of me liking nature?” I ask with an arched brow.
“We go to the park a lot with Colby. That’s nature,” Lucy replies.
“No, that's me getting my kid outside to run the wiggles off. Two totally separate things.”
Lucy shrugs. “Close enough.”
I release a deep exhale and hand her back her phone. My friend is certifiable. Well-meaning but absolutely batshit.
“Look,” Lucy starts as she crosses her arms and rests them on the bar, leaning slightly toward me. “You aren’t going to meet the man of your dreams working in this bar,” Lucy says.
“Hey, I like to think this is where we fell in love,” Jude says, staring at his woman with a dejected look on his face.
She swivels her head in his direction. “No, this is where you wore me down to finally agree to let you take me on your bike. The love part didn’t come until way later.
” She turns back to me. “All I’m saying is, you’re young and beautiful and more than a bartender at Thorn and Thistle.
You’re more than Colby’s mom. You’re also a woman who needs to be reminded there’s more to life. ”
I scoff. “I don’t need a man for that.”
Lucy throws her head back in laughter. “Sister, no one needs a man. But they sure can be fun to have around,” she finishes with a wide smile.
I shake my head and laugh, holding my hand open in front of her. “Fine. I’m too tired to fight with you when you’re obviously—and might I add, strangely—fixated on this.”
Lucy’s smile is beaming as she does a little happy dance in her seat and hands her phone back over to me.
Leaning across the bar, I hold the phone so we can both see the screen and scroll through the pictures of the men who have liked my profile. Some of them are pretty cute. And some look like they live in their mom’s basement.
“All you have to do is swipe on their picture, then you’ll be matched and can start messaging each other,” Lucy says.
“How the hell do you know that?” Jude asks.
“I did my research. Do you really think I would let one of my friends go into this blind?” she asks as though she’s offended that he would assume such a thing.
“ Let is a bit of a stretch. You basically forced this on her,” he volleys.
“To-ma-to, to-mah-to,” she replies, waving him off. “Oh, how about this guy?” she asks me.
I look at the picture. Not bad. He has light hair, not the dark that I prefer, but his profile says he’s six-one, so at least he’s a bit taller than me.
And it looks like he lives about forty-five minutes from here, so not so close that I’ll run the chance of bumping into him at the grocery store if it doesn’t work out.
“Do it,” Lucy goads, making a swiping motion with her finger.
I look at her, then the phone, then back to her. “Will this get you off my back?”
“I make no promises.”
That’s honestly the best I’m going to get from her.
“Fine,” I say, and I swipe.
The next morning, Wyatt shows up at my door with two cups of coffee and holds one out to me when I open the door.
“I come bearing coffee and exterminators,” he says with a half smile.
I look behind him as two men get out of their truck with traps. “You’re a saint,” I tell him as I reach out and grab the coffee from his hand. “Never thought I would be so happy to see a pest control truck in front of my house.”
Colby comes running to the front door still in his pajamas, his brown hair sticking out at every odd angle imaginable. “Where’s Pepper?” he asks, looking past Wyatt.
“He had to stay home today. We’re getting rid of your raccoon problem, and I wouldn’t want one of the guys to mistake him for a raccoon and put him in one of the cages,” Wyatt answers.
“I would have protected him,” Colby says, obviously a bit put out that Wyatt would show up without his dog.
“I know, bud. But I have a few things that I have to take care of today, and Pepper can’t come along.”
“He could have stayed with us, and you could have come back later to pick him up,” Colby argues.
“Colby,” I say in a firm voice. The last thing Wyatt needs is my son giving him grief when he’s here to do us a favor.
“You’re right,” Wyatt says. “That’s what I should have done. Next time, okay?”
Colby nods, appeased with the promise of a next time.
“Come on in,” I say, moving away from the door.
I look down at the nightshirt I’m still wearing without a bra.
I cross my arms over my chest while nonchalantly taking a sip from the coffee Wyatt brought me.
I may not be the fullest up top, but the thin shirt does nothing to hide what I do have.
“Um, I’m going to go change real quick.”
Wyatt nods toward the kitchen. “I’ll be in here.”
I walk back to my room and change out of my pajamas and into a T-shirt and denim shorts. When I walk back into the kitchen, Wyatt is watching Colby carefully as my son pours milk into his cereal bowl.
“He said it was okay for him to do it himself as long as an adult supervises,” Wyatt says, looking between me and Colby like he isn't sure he’s doing the right thing by letting Colby get himself a bowl of cereal.
I wave off his concerns. “It’s fine. We’re in the I can do it myself stage, but still in the not-so-great hand-eye coordination stage,” I tell him.
“I didn’t spill any, Mommy,” Colby announces.
“Good job. Now take it to the table carefully.”
We all have a seat at my kitchen table, Colby on one side of me and Wyatt on the other.
“Thank you so much for doing this for me,” I tell Wyatt.
“What did I tell you? Anything for my favorite bartender.” He smiles and takes a sip of his coffee.
There’s no mistaking the heat that spreads from my neck up to my cheeks. And he doesn’t miss it either if the smirk on his full lips is anything to go by. What I wouldn’t give to not wear my emotions all over my body.
“So, um…how was the rest of your night?” I ask in an attempt to get myself under control and into more neutral territory so I stop blushing like a schoolgirl.
“It was fine. I needed to get back to the clubhouse and take Pepper out,” he replies.
A couple minutes after Lucy made me swipe on the dating app, Wyatt threw some bills on the bar and headed out. He wasn’t what I would call angry or anything like that, but his mood had definitely shifted, a little like it is now that I brought up last night.
“How has your garbage disposal been? Any more problems?” he asks.
The change in topic isn’t lost on me, and it makes me wonder why he seems to care.
We’re friends. He’s never made a move. Not that I would allow myself to get swept up in him.
I need him as a friend more than I need him in my bed. Or so I keep telling myself.
“No more problems. Thank you again for fixing it for me,” I reply.
A few weeks ago, I’d mentioned to Lucy that the damn garbage disposal was giving me issues, and about an hour later, Wyatt showed up at my front door with a tool belt and a smile.
He’s been doing little things like that for me for the last few years.
I’d usually thank him with dinner or a beer, and over that time, we’ve gotten to know each other.
Ever since he rescued Pepper, we see him at least once a week, either at the park or at one of our friends’ houses, and Colby gets to play with Pepper.
He’s always been here when I needed, without me having to ask, and he’s the brother I’ve become closest to and know I can always rely on. Because we’re friends.
Just friends .
There’s a knock at the door, and I get up to answer it.
“All set, ma’am,” one of the exterminators says.
“That was fast. Hold on, let me grab you some cash,” I say, turning away from the door. “What do I owe you?” I call as I walk into the kitchen to grab my purse.
“Nothing, ma’am. It’s been taken care of,” he replies. “Let us know if there are any other problems.”
I turn to Wyatt and crook an eyebrow. He’s carefully studying his paper cup with the Cool Beans logo—my favorite coffee shop in Shine.
“Wyatt?”
He looks at me and smiles. “Yes?”
My brow quirks in question. “Did you pay to have my raccoons removed?”
“Well, technically they aren’t yours . At least not anymore,” he replies.
“Mommy, when someone does something nice for you, you’re supposed to say thank you,” Colby says before he lifts his bowl to his mouth to drink the fruity-flavored milk.
I let out a breath and chuckle. “Thank you, Wyatt.”
The man shrugs. “Like I said, anything for you, Maiz.”