Page 272 of A Merry Mountain Christmas

“Blue’s not coming,” Adalia told Maisie. “She texted you too, but I know you. Usually your phone is off at the kennel. It’s something to do with a support group meeting, but she was a bit cagey about giving details. Obviously it’s not AA.”

Obvious, since they always went out for drinks, and Blue seemed to get tipsy off a single drink.

“Huh. We’ll have to interrogate her the next time we see her,” she said.

Jack smiled a little, as if amused, and she suspected it was because he was the type who’d allow someone to sit with their secrets. He would no more press someone for a confidence than he would let Iris go to a twenty-one-and-up concert.

“Well, what do you say, Durand?” she asked, letting her tone get a little playful. “Willing to let someone else make you a drink for a change?”

He glanced upstairs, looking a little twitchy at the thought of leaving Iris, but then something in his posture straightened and his gaze landed on Maisie. His eyes danced over her for a moment, like she was wearing a dress and heels instead of torn-up old jeans and a random shirt, then settled on her face. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess I could be accommodating. Let me run up and tell Iris.”

The second he was up the stairs and out of sight, Adalia turned to Maisie, raising her eyebrows.

“You’re welcome,” she said.

It took Maisie a second to realize what she meant—Adalia must have noticed something between them at Thanksgiving.

“So Blue didn’t have a meeting?” she asked, shaking her head slightly. “That’s some master-level manipulation.”

“Oh, she does,” Adalia said, “but it’s ending early. She offered to meet us later.”

“Adalia, I don’t…” But she didn’t have time to finish whatever it was she’d intended to say—and honestly, she wasn’t sure—because Jack came down the stairs. And every bit of her seemed to lift in anticipation.

Great, Red, the first man you ever loved still has no idea, and now you’re in danger of falling for a man who’s told you it’s a no-go.

But there was a naughty part of her that wondered ifeverythingwas a no-go, or just dating. Because they’d been plenty good at the other stuff.

CHAPTER TWELVE

The ride to the restaurant was awkward. Adalia had insisted that Jack sit in the front seat next to Maisie because he had longer legs. Then she’d proceeded to pepper them both with questions, keeping them talking while she listened from the back like their would-be dating therapist. But the awkwardness hadn’t kept him from noticing how close he was to Maisie. She was just inches away, and he clasped his hands in his lap to keep from reaching over and snagging her hand resting on the console. From the few glances she snuck in his direction, the impulse wasn’t one-sided.

Once they got to the restaurant, Adalia immediately claimed the seat across from Maisie at the four-top table, leaving two empty chairs between them.

Jack didn’t protest, although he was beginning to question the wisdom of joining them. Adalia was usually pretty chill, but her machinations were painfully obvious. She’d noticed him talking to Maisie on Thanksgiving. She must have decided to help prod things along. He suspected it had something to do with the fact that she’d started phasingEmmainto herPride and Prejudicewatching schedule. Things he only knew about because Iris, who scoffed when Adalia put them on, lovedthose movies too. The real question was if Maisie was part of the attempted setup, but he quickly dismissed the idea. Maisie would have taken a more direct approach.

They ordered drinks and a couple of appetizers, chatting about Maisie’s shelter and how much Adalia and Finn’s art benefit had helped with funding. The contacts she’d made had apparently been just as useful as her share of the proceeds. However, she was maddeningly silent about Iris’s afternoon, other than to say she’d enjoyed having her there and looked forward to seeing her next Tuesday. The drinks and fried cheese ravioli and spinach-artichoke dip arrived, and Adalia gave them a mischievous look and hopped out of her seat. “I’m going to the restroom.”

“Do you think she’s coming back?” Jack asked in a dry tone, watching her glance back at them.

“Hard to say,” Maisie said, taking a sip of her peach Bellini. “It could go either way.” It delighted him a little, the way a woman as tough and no-nonsense as her savored sweet drinks. They’d joked about putting each other into boxes, but he already knew no one category could contain Maisie O’Shea.

Setting her drink down, Maisie shifted to face him. “It’s important you know that I had nothing to do with this. I know it looks a little sketchy since I offered to bring Iris home.”

He shot her a grin. “I know this was all Adalia. Plus, she wasn’t lying about needing a ride. Bessie really is in the shop.”

“I’m glad to hear her orchestrations don’t run so deep,” she said with a smile. “In any case, I truly intended to drop Iris off and pick Addy up. It was supposed to be a simple exchange.”

He laughed. “Is anything ever simple with Addy?”

She laughed too. “You have a point, but her heart was in the right place. She has no way of knowing that we both have good reasons not to get involved right now.”

Both.

What did that mean?

But she took a big sip of her drink, indicating she’d said her piece, and he didn’t feel comfortable pushing. He never had. When he was a little kid, he used to ask his mom all kinds of questions—why it rained and how yogurt was made and where she’d disappeared to for twelve hours without calling. Her answer to that latter question had put an end to his curiosity.

“I needed to get away fromyou,” she’d said. He’d been six.

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