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Maggie frowned. The last time she and Gwen had talked about boys, Maggie had been fake dating Dean. Maggie studied the older woman, gaze moving from her red hair pulled into two round buns to her brown clogs. This was not the first time in their history of friendship that Maggie had wondered if Gwen was clairvoyant.
“Oh, honey,” Gwen said, reading Maggie’s confused frown. “It’s been Mac for months now, probably longer, even if you only just figured it all out.”
“I think I might need another muffin.” Maggie took a huge bite of the chocolate confection sitting in front of her. “If anything is going to make me feel better right now, it’s sugar and chocolate all mixed together.”
Gwen left the table and grabbed another plate, but this one had a plain croissant. Maggie frowned. She couldn’t complain about free food, but croissants weren’t exactly her favorite. Chocolate croissants would work in a pinch, but they definitely didn’t outrank a double chocolate muffin bursting with giant chocolate chips and sprinkled with crunchy gems of sugar.
“Thank you,” Maggie said around another bite of her muffin, and Gwen just laughed.
“It’s not for you, darling,” she said. Behind her, Maggie heard the café door slam open.
The tingle of awareness started at the back of Maggie’s neck and spread down into her chest and deeper into her belly. She didn’t need Gwen’s wink to know who’d walked into the Perk-u-Later. She didn’t even have to turn around. Maggie’s heart started pounding like a bass drum.
Maggie kept her gaze trained on her table and her baked treat until a pair of gray boots came into view. She recognized the threadbare laces and the edge of dark denim, and she swallowed past a lump in her throat. Her delicious muffin sat like a lead weight in her stomach, and for a moment she felt the café swoop into and out of focus. It was a good thing she was sitting, or she might have fallen over.
“Maggie,” he said from above her, “look at me, please.”
An enormous hand came down on her little round table, palm up, as though asking for something. Maggie let her gaze roam from his open hand marked with pale calluses, up his muscled forearm with soft dark hair and tan skin, over his bicep that curved from the time he spent swinging a heavy hammer against glowing hot metal, over his smooth throat just begging for her lips, to rest on his beautiful, frowning face.
“Am I too late?” Anguish pitched his voice to a low rumble.
Maggie directed her head to shake ‘no,’ but her body didn’t move.
“I love you,” Mac said, and Maggie’s tears welled up again. “I’ve been in love with you since the first day we met. There isn’t a minute of my day that passes without you in it. There isn’t a single thing I hear that I don’t immediately want to share with you. I’ve spent so long believing that you’d never want me back, never love me back, that I took what you offered the very minute you glanced my way. I owe you an apology for that. I took everything you were willing to give, and then I was upset with you for not understanding what I wanted. For wanting something different. You said you wanted to be my friend, and Maggie, I couldn’t—” He ran a shaking hand through his hair, and Maggie couldn’t help but smile as it stood on end. “I couldn’t be your friend, Maggie. I wanted to be more than that. Ineededto be more than that.”
“I never meant for you to think we were only friends,” Maggie said. She slid her hand over his palm, letting her fingers trace the bumps of calluses and the smooth bands of scar tissue.
“I’ve got that now.” Mac’s fingers flexed as he squeezed her hand with his. “What you said in my office? It was every dream I’d never let myself have. It took me a moment to realize that you were really there, and then you were out the door and down the hall and I could have kicked myself for not catching on sooner. Please tell me I’m not too late to fix this.”
Maggie shook her head.
“Words, Maggie.”
“Not too late.” The words felt wrenched from her very soul.
“Thank fuck,” Mac breathed.
Maggie didn’t know which one of them moved first, but she found her lips against Mac’s in the sweetest, gentlest kiss of her life. She was still holding his face in her hands, and his palms had moved to her hips, cupping her with soft intimacy.
“I love you,” Maggie whispered against his mouth. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”
“I love you, too,” Mac whispered back. “I’d have waited forever if I needed to.”
He pulled back from the kiss, but didn’t let her step away from his body.
“I want to tell you it’s all smooth sailing from here, but it probably won’t be,” he said and pressed his forehead to hers. “I’m not great at talking about things like feelings, and I don’t like many people.”
“I have a lot of anxiety, and I spend hours talking to characters in my head. And I often miss things that are right in front of me.” Maggie added.
“I have some hang-ups about friendships and about trusting my relationships, but I promise that they have nothing to do with you. I think you might be my best friend, Maggie. And I’d like to keep you.”
“I’d like that, too.” Maggie pulled his head down for another kiss.
THE END
Maggie and Mac's story is over for now. If you'd like a little insight into Mac's thoughts and experiences during their journey to Happily Ever After, including the story of how they met, sign up for my newsletter atwww.authorstellastevenson.com
Maggie's book—the one she wrote about Dean—is coming soon. Read on for a sneak peek of BLIND LUCK, featuring untrusting boudoir photographer Jenna, her golden construction foreman Luke, and a blind date that goes completely off the rails.
