Chapter 8
eight
. . .
Maggie
“What is it going to take for this guy to ask me out!”
Willa looks up from where she’s kneading the sourdough with my mom.
Sadie glances over at me from the counter, her blond hair falling in front of her as she snips her ends into the trash.
She’s such a badass, because guess what I’m not doing?
Cutting my own damn hair. The boys and Dad are in the den, playing PlayStation as we work on the bread, and it’s the perfect afternoon in the Welch household.
I love being in the home I grew up in. While Nashville holds a lot of the good memories, Holiday Ridge is the vacation home we always went to, and then it became our forever home.
I was in middle school when we moved here, and nothing has changed.
All the photos are still of us at young ages.
Mom refuses to refurnish the house, keeping the ’90s feel that is so out-of-date but that she loves so much.
Guys, the den is wood paneling. The kind that sticks to the wall, and she will not take it down. Nope, my mom just keeps adding Gorilla Glue to spots that fall.
It’s weird.
“Mags, it’s been a few days,” Mom reminds me, and I blow out an exasperated breath.
“But I’m a damn good time!”
“Didn’t he sleep over?” Sadie asks, snipping her hair.
“There was no sleeping,” I say, waggling my brows.
Then I point around the room. “All you people have dirty minds. We stayed up talking the whole night. It was awesome. It was everything, and it felt so easy. I like him. A lot,” I admit softly.
“And we talk all the time, like, text every single chance, yet he hasn’t asked me out.
I’ve even given him openings, but nothing. ”
“Maybe he’s not into you,” Sadie says, and I give her a dark look.
“Don’t put that negative into the world.”
“Yeah, Sadie. Be kind,” Mom chides, but Sadie just smirks.
She’s a bit of an asshole.
Willa blows a strand of her blond waves out of her eyes and gives me a look. “He’s shy, Mags. You’re gonna have to just straight up ask him out.”
I bite my lip. “I don’t think he’s shy. I think he’s hesitant, and I don’t know why. We really haven’t talked about his past relationships. Maybe he’s been burned.”
“So, ask,” Willa suggests.
Like I hadn’t thought of that. “Maybe I will. I did say I was going to bring him a loaf of bread.”
“You told him you were coming here?” Willa asks, raising a brow at me.
“Yes. I’m not kidding when I say we talk constantly.”
“Does he talk about his family?” Mom asks, and I lean on my elbows.
“Yeah, he has a sister. Both his parents have passed.”
Mom makes a face. “Aw, how sad. Tell him I’ll be his mom.”
“Ew, no. I don’t want to date my brother.” I gag, and she gives me an exasperated look.
“How old are you?”
I smirk as Sadie rolls her eyes at me. “Are we still doing a Galentine’s thing since you are on the cusp of having a boy toy?”
Now I’m the one rolling my eyes at my sister. Before I can answer, my mom says, “I don’t even know why you’re doing that. It’s like a hate against the traditional holiday, which is highly celebrated here.”
My sisters and I all share a look before Sadie snaps, “For one, Valentine’s Day was created by the greeting card industry to make people spend money.”
“Second,” Willa adds, “since we don’t have valentines, we are allowed to hate on it together and spoil one another since we don’t need a man.”
“And third,” I say with a grin, “we need something to do since none of us are getting laid.”
“I don’t know what went wrong with you girls,” Mom says on a sigh. “You used to be so sweet.”
“Yes, then men happened,” Sadie says blandly. “You gave us the best dad and expected us to find someone even remotely good enough?”
“I used to call Dad to ask questions about things, with my husband right there,” I say, and Willa snorts.
“I did the same. Hell, he came over and fixed the fridge one time, made Garrett hand him tools.”
We all snicker at that.
“So, really, it’s your fault we are the way we are,” Sadie announces, and before my mom can protest, she looks at me. “But I have a feeling our Galentine’s will be canceled once Dr. Do-My-Body-Good finds the balls to ask you out.”
I shrug. “Probably.”
Willa groans as Mom laughs. Sadie’s brow furrows as she snaps, “I don’t know what your obsession is with him all of a sudden. He’s been next door to you for like a year.”
“I have always found him attractive but haven’t gotten him to notice me.”
She gives me a blank look as she sets down the scissors. “And it took getting knocked in the head by a stone dick to get you to ask him out?”
“I didn’t know if he was interested,” I tell her once more.
“I still don’t think he is,” Sadie sings, and my blood boils.
I glare back at her. “Don’t you have the hearts of young children to go eat?”
She snorts. “I do.” Then she screeches, “Where are the children I call my nephews? I am ready to eat their hearts to keep myself young!”
“Noooo!”
Adam and Wyatt scream as Dad yells, “Damn it, Sadie. I was kicking their asses!”
“Language!” Mom yells just as Sadie takes off after the boys, and then Dad comes into the kitchen. He’s wearing a ratty-ass Assassins tee that I think he’s had since he was eighteen, but my mom looks at him like he’s in a suit. “Such a dirty mouth.”
“You like my dirty mouth.”
Willa and I groan as they kiss, very passionately for the kitchen.
Or maybe I want passionate kisses. In the kitchen.
Hell, anywhere. I just want to kiss Dermot.
Badly. When we walked Kip together, it took twenty minutes of waiting for him to hold my hand before I finally just took his hand in mine.
His large hand enveloped mine, and I felt that same tingle I got when he helped me up.
He gave me a shy smile, and I beamed up at him while Kip trotted like a champ.
It was perfect, it was everything, and I want more.
Doesn’t he?
“Dad,” I say, and my father’s kind blue eyes fall on me. His lips curve, the wrinkles around his eyes gaining purchase on his handsome face as he looks at me with that expression he always has when he looks at his daughters.
Pure love.
“Yes, Maggie boo.”
I smile at my nickname. “How do I get a guy to ask me out?”
He scoffs. “Just kiss him.”
I let my shoulders fall. “Dad, that can’t be your answer to everything!”
“Hey! It worked on your mom,” he says, waggling his brows at her. “Worked out great for us.”
“This isn’t the ’90s, Dad.”
“A pity, really,” Dad mutters as Mom nods.
“I miss the ’90s,” Mom says on a sigh.
Dad agrees before looking at me. “Have you told him you’re interested?”
“Yes.”
“Is he interested?”
“Yes.”
“Then kiss him.”
Mom giggles as Willa rolls her eyes. My dad? Well, he smacks my mom’s ass and walks away like he just dropped a mic.
I let my head fall to the counter as the sounds of Sadie chasing the boys fill the living room. It’s always such chaos over here. Even when the boys aren’t around, it’s just loud. We’re a loud family and I love it on any other day, but today, I’m annoyed.
What am I doing wrong? Maybe I’m still knocked out and this is all a dream.
“I wrote my newest character with his nose again, then I had to go back and change the whole backstory so he is the long-lost brother of Liam from the last book,” I mutter against the counter.
“Man, I loved Liam’s dirty mouth,” Willa says with a dreamy sigh.
“Right? The way he tossed her into the back of the truck and devoured her? Jesus, I had to ask Dad to reenac—”
“Mom!” Willa and I yell together, but she just giggles.
I sigh deeply. “I adore his nose. It’s so cute. Isn’t Dermot’s nose cute, Mom?”
“Yes, honey.”
“The whole dude is hot,” Willa says as if I don’t know this myself. “Maybe you should just ask him.”
I lift my head, meeting her gaze. “Ask him what?”
“Ask him why he hasn’t kissed you.”
I press my lips together, thinking that little suggestion over. I’ve been very direct about everything else, so why am I dancing around things now?
I reach for my phone in my back pocket and open our text thread.
Thursday, 4:32 p.m.
Me: What are you doing?
Dermot: I just drove to Lake Placid, and I’m at my sister’s coffee shop while she makes me help her close down. She had people call out, so she’s closing alone. Waiting to finish up so we can head to dinner.
Me: Boo, employees can suck. My mom is the worst.
Dermot: Highly doubtful. She gives me snacks.
Me: You come into the shop?
Dermot: Maybe.
Me: Nice. Are you busy?
Dermot: Not for you.
Ugh, he’s so sweet!
He is making me crazy.
Me: So, you know how I have lips?
Dermot: …I am aware of them, yes.
Me: Okay, I was wondering if you knew they were there.
Dermot: Yes, Maggie. I know you have lips. Very pretty lips.
Me: Okay, and you know how I use them to kiss Kip?
Dermot: I’m gonna say yes, but I’m just gonna be real honest, I have no damn clue where you’re going with this.
Me: Understandable, but stay with me.
Dermot: I am.
Me: My lips love kissing Kip. He’s such a great kisser. But they’re really interested in someone else.
Dermot: Oh?
Me: Yeah.
Me: You.
Dermot: Your lips are interested in me?
Me: Yes.
Me: Are you following what I’m saying?
I tap my finger against the counter as I wait for his response.
Dermot: Very much so.
Me: Okay. Are yours interested in mine?
Dermot: Very much so.
Me: Oh.
Dermot: I’m glad we cleared this up.
Me: Me too.
Me: I also want to go on a date.
Dermot: Noted.
Me: With you.
Dermot: Thank God.
Me: So yeah.
Dermot: Yeah.
When nothing else comes, I inhale deeply to keep myself from tossing my phone. I set my phone down slowly, just as Mom and Willa back up, acting as if they didn’t read all that.
And then I promptly drop my face to the counter.
“Maggie! You’re still concussed.”
“Not enough since I keep saying dumb shit.”
“That was painful,” Willa said, shaking her head. “You’re so weird.”
“Eat ass, Willa,” I mutter against the cool surface.
From the living room, Sadie yells, “She wishes she could!”
Willa sighs deeply. “It’d be nice.”
With that, Mom yells, “Girls!”