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“This week. I don’t even know if he’ll buy something. Maybe he’s just one of those lookie-loos who want to see everything but then decides to go elsewhere.”
“That would be annoying.”
“Happens more than you think.”
I sigh, and my phone pings again.
Hunter: I managed to get away tomorrow afternoon rather than Thursday. Does that work for you?
I grin. Today’s Tuesday. It’s only a day early if he comes tomorrow.
But I’m excited to see him again.
Still, I don’t want to seem too eager.
Me: I can shuffle some things around for you.
I watch the three dots dance on my screen.
Hunter: I’ll see you tomorrow. Dinner?
Me: I really can’t. And don’t pout. I have to work.
There’s no reply, and I can’t help but grin when I set my phone aside.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this,” Maggie says, catching my attention.
“Like what?”
“With little hearts bursting above your head. You’re not usually one to crush on someone.”
“Maybe I just don’t tell you about it when I do.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “No, you’d tell me. I hope this guy doesn’t turn out to be a jerk and a half.”
“Maybe just three-quarters of a jerk.”
Maggie smirks. “That would be less than most guys.”
“You know, Cameron’s always been a nice guy, Mags. What in the world did he do to you now?”
“It’s not that he did anything,” she admits. “He’s not a bad guy.”
“Then why are you miserable?”
“Because he’s done nothing at all,” she repeats. “And it’s damn annoying.”
“Maybe you need to light a fire under his ass.”
She doesn’t say anything for a long minute and then shrugs one shoulder. “You know, just once, I’d like to be the priority without asking to be. I want him to choose me. Not because I ask him to but because he wants to. I want to feel important.”
“Yeah, but he’s not a mind reader.”
“And that’s the worst part. Because if he doesn’t just instinctively want to be with me, to make me the number-one spot in his life, then there’s no room for me at all. I’ll never be with someone who loves everything else in his life more than me again. I can’t do it, Maeve.”
“No.” I reach over and link my fingers with hers. “No, you can’t. You’re right. When was the last time you spoke with him?”
“It’s been a few weeks.” She shrugs as if it’s no big deal.
But I know it is.
“I might go on a date with someone else.”
I blink quickly, surprised. “Who?”
“I don’t know yet. I have to figure that part out.”
“Good for you.” I squeeze her hand and then let go. “Go get them.”
Chapter 4
~Hunter~
I’ve spent the better part of the last two days with her. She’s shown me six more homes, including the one we’re in now, and last night, I spent several hours at the pub where I nursed one beer, ate my weight in that amazing stew, and took it all in.
Took her in. I can’t get enough of the way Maeve laughs, of the way she moves. Hell, I was only away from her for a couple of days and I missed her.
Not to mention, I like what I’ve seen of Maeve’s family business.
I’m close to my parents and am grateful to have them close by. But I’m an only child, so watching the O’Callaghans and the way they interact, how they work together, has been an education.
“I didn’t realize until he came into the pub last night that Kane O’Callaghan is your brother,” I say as I glance at another kitchen. “I have a few pieces of his glass in my home. Bought them at a charity thing a few years ago.”
She grins in that proud way she does when she thinks of her family. Her smile lights up any room. Yeah, it’s cliché, and no, I don’t give a rat’s ass.
“That’s awesome,” she says. “Yeah, Kane’s the only one of us who doesn’t put some time in at the pub. But he’s always in his glass barn, making something new, or traveling, or just enjoying his wife and their son. The pub was never for him, and that’s okay. He comes in from time to time to look in on us all.”
“And your parents?”
“They’re in Ireland right now,” she says. “But are headed this way in a few days because Izzy’s about to have that baby any moment, and they wouldn’t miss that for the world.”
“You’re a tight family.”
She nods slowly. “When we came here from Ireland, we were all each other had. It was us against the rest of the world, so to speak. It helped that we all speak English. But, of course, with thick accents, we were still outsiders.”
“You don’t have much of an accent,” I point out, itching to touch her. To pull her to me. To kiss the hell out of her.
