Page 100 of More Than My Hometown

“I do. Hunting, fishing, camping…he loves it all.”

“And what if I were to say that the deal is already done with Hayes?” I lift an eyebrow, trying to feel her out. Maisey doesn’t react, her poker face perfectly intact. “That there isn’t an offer you could make me.”

“I’d tell you the God’s honest truth. My offer is better than anything Hayes Industries could muster, I promise.”

I sit back, her words hitting me like a hurricane wind. Better than anything Hayes could offer? Those are some big words. I have no idea what Gus told her, but my family’s legacy is a Fortune 500 company. We have a lot to muster up if we really wanted to. So Maisey really must think she has something. Or she’s bluffing.

Knowing Maisey, it’s the latter.

“And what’s that?” I ask, ready to see what she has.

“Ketchup.”

My heart stops. Ketchup.

There’s so much confidence in her voice. But even more love in her eyes and wild in her smile.

I all but come undone.

Reaching down, she pulls out three ketchup packets from underneath the table, lining them up and laying them out in front of me.

“One for our past, one for our present, and one for our future.”

Not just ketchup. Ketchup pacts.

My heart gets caught in my throat, tears starting to burn my eyes as I continue to stare at them. Maisey is offering up ketchup pacts for The Booby Trap.

Holy shit.

“Ewan…” she whispers. Her voice is so strong, even as quiet as it is, weaving its way into my soul. I can’t take my eyes off the damn condiment in front of me out of fear of the dam breaking, but I nod, almost imperceptibly so she knows I hear her. “Please don’t sign the store over to your brother. I know it’s not what you want. It’s not what I want either.”

I whip my head to look at her. Tears be damned. She smiles back at me, the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.

“What?”

“I called InterCon MediTrust this morning and turned down Reykjavík. So, fingers crossed I actually get the job at Tifton Regional or I’m gonna be working for my father and Landon for a little while longer.”

“What, no,” I exclaim. “That’s your dream⁠—”

“It’s not.” She shakes her head. “It was, don’t get me wrong. But dreams change. What I want is to stay here, with you.”

“Maisey, take the job; we can make it work.”

Reaching across the table, she takes my hand. “Are you listening? I don’t want to make it work. I want the sex tent. And a matching pair of children. And our blue heeler. Family camping trips. I want to try and weird Willa out with our sex noises!”

Errrr…what?!

“Where did that last one come from?”

“Dolly told me about how you knew about Willa and Nash before anyone because you could hear them through the walls,” she answers sheepishly.

Oh, yeah, that.

“Gotcha. Okay, we can add that to the list…” I make a mental note to try and out sex my little sister. Although I’m not exactly sure how one does that.

“That can’t be done from an island nation in the middle of the north Atlantic.”

No. No, it can’t.