9. Maggie
NINE
MAGGIE
I stared at the incoming call from Jason and sighed, refusing to touch the phone resting on the picnic table as I gathered another bite of the backcountry skillet onto my fork.
There hadn’t been any room at The Sunrise Skillet’s patio, so I ventured farther downtown to an outdoor picnic area and claimed a table with a view of the mountains.
But it didn’t matter that I was in a relatively quiet place to take a call. I had nothing left to say to him that I hadn’t already said.
“He’s probably just calling about money,” I grumbled.
Ellie, lying contently in the grass beside my table, looked up at me as though to say Gee, do you think?
For the first time since I pulled out of the driveway of Jason’s place four days ago, I felt a pang of sadness.
I wasn’t going back—not that he was even asking me to.
Luanne was likely pressuring him to get money from me for all the deposits she was out. But I refused to pay a single dime.
Not only had she violated my trust by trying on a dress I strictly forbade her from even peeking at, but she was the one to insist the simple wedding I wanted wasn’t grand enough.
Jason convinced me to accept her money to help elevate the event, but he failed to mention the strings that decision came with.
The venue, the caterer, the DJ—hell, even the cake—were Luanne’s choices.
Any objections I made were overruled by the pair of them reminding me who was footing the bill.
In hindsight, I should’ve called things off long before she destroyed my wedding dress, but I’d been clinging to the hope of the past. The hope that after the wedding was over, Luanne would go back home halfway across the country and the two of us could resume the relationship we had before I quit my veterans relocation assistance position I had in North Carolina to be with him in the first place.
Life before the proposal had been so . . . nice.
I thought that after two years of being long distance, quitting a job I quite enjoyed and moving to the opposite coast to be together would be some epic fairytale story we’d someday tell our grandkids. Instead, it was the single thing that shattered the bubble we’d apparently been living in.
There was no future—I wasn’t sure there ever had been.
But I missed the FaceTime calls, the long emails, and the ridiculous memes.
I missed my friend.
It was the reason I couldn’t seem to bring myself to block his number and be done with it. It was as though I’d be deleting all the good memories with it—like I’d be deleting the person I knew he was before he gave me a ring.
“It’s pathetic, I know,” I said to Ellie, glancing back at my phone in time to see the voicemail notification pop up.
I wouldn’t listen to it.
But I wouldn’t delete it either.
“You know what we need, Ellie Belly?” I said, taking the final bite of my skillet before gathering up the trash. “I think we need to find a good book. Maybe Diana Davenport’s latest release.” When she didn’t appear interested, I added, “And I bet the bookstore will have some fun socks.”
Immediately, she hopped to her feet, tail wagging.
With the promise of socks, she didn’t fight me when I clipped her leash back on. The last thing I wanted was another encounter with Officer McGrumpy where Ellie was missing her restraint. He’d probably write me a ticket.
An uninvited flash of him shirtless at his kitchen table jumped into my mind, and I groaned. It’d been happening all morning. As annoyed as I was, I kept catching myself trying to make out his tattoos, as though if I just concentrated hard enough, the fuzzy memories would focus into answers.
Maybe Mom was right to be worried about me. Clearly, I was mental.
Or maybe you just really need to get laid.
Half a block from the park, Ellie took a sharp right toward a random door, and I nearly tripped over my own feet as I pivoted unexpectedly. The words Mason Hardware & Supply were painted in gold lettering on the glass-front door I nearly face-planted into.
“Why do you want to go in here?” I asked, already reaching for the handle.
It was rare she got this way, but when she did, her determination knew no bounds.
Perhaps she’d spotted a sock display through the window, or a little kid she wanted to greet.
Either way, it would be much less of a hassle if I let her take the lead until she found what she was after.
If she decided to protest and plant herself, carrying her would be the only option.
Bells lightly jingled overhead as we stepped across the threshold. I had no idea if dogs were allowed, but I’d let Ellie worry about that if her presence became an issue.
The hardwood floor creaked with each cautious step as I scanned the expansive store.
It was bigger on the inside than it looked outside, the space several rows of shelves wide.
In the front part of the store, they were no more than three feet in height.
Halfway back, the shelves climbed to the ceiling.
There were green labeled signs with gold lettering: electrical, lawn and garden, tile, doors and windows, door hardware.
Oh, right. I did have a doorknob to replace. I glanced at my dog, but I doubted Ellie was aware of that. It’s not as though I needed that closet knob today. I had four weeks to fix it on the sly, and even then, I wasn’t eager to let the tulle monster loose.
An older man waved at me from the front counter. He was assisting a customer at the checkout, so I followed my dog toward an aisle labeled pet supplies. Ellie wasn’t big on toys, but every once in a while, she caught the bug. Maybe she just wanted a stuffed moose or fish.
As I wove through the aisles, I caught a glimpse of a man about my age and a little girl at the back of the store, engrossed in conversation. She held a hand scanner with both hands, and he had a clipboard and a pen in his. Did he work here, too?
“Hey, miss, welcome in,” the older man from the front counter said as he headed my way. The bells chimed overhead as the customer he’d been assisting left.
“You must be the owner?” I guessed.
“Joe Mason.” He extended his hand, and I introduced myself as I shook it.
If I’d been in charge of casting for the Hallmark movie this town clearly was, he was exactly the man I’d pick to fill the role of local hardware store owner.
He looked every bit the part with his thick, gray swept-back hair, a yellow carpenter’s pencil tucked behind his ear, a red and gray flannel shirt, and worn jeans.
“Anything I can help you find?” he asked.
I was about to admit I was looking for a particular glass doorknob when I heard a familiar voice behind me.
“Are you lost?”
“Lost?” I repeated.
“Really, Luke?” the older man scolded, smacking him with a clipboard.
I bit back a grin.
“Ignore him. He’s not housebroken,” the other younger man said, approaching with the little girl in tow.
Luke scowled at that comment, which only made it harder to hide my smile. So I didn’t this time.
“I like your dog,” the little girl said.
I focused on her so I wouldn’t look at Luke.
The last thing I needed was to be assaulted with another unsolicited image of the man shirtless and feeding my dog bacon.
Especially since I’d apparently drawn a crowd.
I’d chock it up to small-town friendliness if Officer McGrumpy weren’t part of the equation.
The little girl wore pigtails, a blush-pink sweatshirt that read nine is a vibe, and a pair of leggings decorated with paw prints. She was cute as a damn button.
“Do you want to pet her?” I asked since Ellie’s attention was already fixated on the girl—she’d probably be offended if she didn’t get pets.
“I’ll be gentle,” she promised, reaching out a tentative hand for Ellie to sniff.
“My daughter’s obsessed with dogs,” the other man explained. “And she’s really good with them. Sometimes, I swear she can read their minds.” I offered him a smile in response, and he added, “I’m Connor—the nice Mason brother, fully equipped with manners.”
“Brother?” I glanced back and forth between the two, trying to pick out the similarities.
They were both on the taller side, definitely over six foot, but Luke had two, maybe three inches on his brother.
Whereas Luke’s hair was a dirty blond, Connor’s was a deep brown, like espresso.
Luke had light blue eyes, and his brother brown.
I’d never have pegged them to be related, let alone siblings.
“As you can see, I got my dad’s good looks,” Connor said, as though reading my mind. “Luke was adopted.”
“I’m staying out of this.” Joe raised both hands in mock surrender. His grin said he was enjoying this almost as much as I was.
“Assholes,” Luke mumbled under his breath.
It took me a moment, but finally it dawned on me that the reason Luke might be at the hardware store in plain clothes this morning was because it was a family business. His family’s business.
“You willingly work with this guy?” I asked Joe, hiking my thumb toward Luke.
“Willingly is a loose term.”
“I don’t have to be here,” Luke piped up.
“I tried to get you to take the day off,” Connor said.
The nonchalance of his tone seemed to grate on Luke, as his frown deepened. I stole another glance at those icy blue eyes, ready to add another jab of my own about stubbornness until I spotted bags under those eyes. I started to ask how long it’d been since he slept, but the little girl cut me off.
“Ellie’s a really good girl. Aren’t you, Ellie?”
My pup lifted a gentle paw to either side of the girl’s shoulders for a hug, as if to prove her goodness.
I stared, dumbfounded, as words lodged in my throat.
Did I mention her name? I glanced up at Luke, catching his eyes for a split second before he looked away, and considered he might have told her.
Or maybe the girl simply read the name etched into her bone-shaped tag dangling from her collar. Duh, Maggie.
“She’s the bestest girl,” I agreed.
“Were you here to pick out something for your dog?” Joe guessed.