Page 30 of A Good Egg

"What you're experiencing today exists because Maisie and Nora O'Malley refused to surrender their heritage, despite my quite persuasive offers." Appreciative chuckles followed. "Their steadfastness forced me to recognize what I'd overlooked throughout my career—that a property's true value can't always be calculated in ledgers and spreadsheets. Sometimes it resides in history and shared experiences."

Maisie's gaze held mine, something bright and fragile in her expression.

"I've made a decision I want to share with you today,” I continued, “I'm making Starlight Bay my home." The declaration felt like removing a constricting garment worn too long. "I'm establishing a consultancy focused on heritage preservation and adaptive reuse—helping communities maintain historic properties while creating sustainable futures for them. Beginning with the old cannery building, if the town approves."

"Consider it pre-approved!" Mayor Reeves called from her table near the window, triggering a round of applause.

"The Little Red Hen taught me something essential," I concluded, raising my glass. "That the most valuable ingredients in any venture aren't projections and profit margins, but vision, community, and courage. To The Little Red Hen, the O'Malleys, and the town of Starlight Bay—thank you for this education."

Maisie slipped away toward the kitchen as the toast concluded. I followed, finding her in the quiet prep area, momentarily alone amidst gleaming equipment and dry goods.

"Did you mean it?" Vulnerability shadowed her question. "You're actually staying?"

"Every word," I confirmed, pulling her gently into my arms. "I just resigned from Sheffield & Associates."

The swinging door opened as a server entered, then retreated with flustered apologies upon seeing us. Maisie's giggle broke the moment's intensity.

"We should return," she said reluctantly. "The final seating starts soon."

"Meet me afterward?" I asked, not ready to let this momentum fade. "There's something I want to show you."

Curiosity brightened her eyes. "Where?"

"A surprise. Trust me?"

Her hesitation lasted barely a heartbeat. "I do."

The afternoon concluded with triumphant exhaustion as The Little Red Hen served its final Easter guests. When the last patron departed, Maisie gathered her team for heartfelt thanks before they dispersed, leaving only the core group—Nora, Carter, Piper, Maisie, and myself—to share a quiet celebration.

"To The Little Red Hen," Carter proposed, raising his glass. "And its stubborn creator."

"To homecomings," Nora added, maternal pride evident in her gaze.

"To community," I offered.

As twilight approached, I guided Maisie outside, where the evening had painted everything in honeyed light. Apple blossoms perfumed the air, their fragrance carried on a gentle breeze.

We walked until reaching the crest of a small hill overlooking the farm. The weathered farmhouse, the red barn now transformed into The Little Red Hen, the orchard stretching toward distant water—all bathed in sunset's glow.

"I first saw your farm from this spot," I told her, taking her hand. "I was calculating how many luxury units we could place on each acre."

"And now?" she asked softly.

"Now I see something irreplaceable. A heritage worth protecting. A town of people worth getting to know. A woman worth changing for."

Her breath caught. "Logan—"

"Maisie O'Malley, I’m falling in love with you. I arrived seeking property and found something immeasurably more valuable—my heart."

Tears gathered in her eyes, shimmering with sunset's gold. "I’m falling in love with you too. Despite my best efforts not to."

"I hear the most worthwhile things often arrive disguised as obstacles," I murmured, drawing her closer before claiming her lips with mine and knew with absolute certainty that I believed in miracles.

Epilogue

Maisie

Easter bells chimed as we stepped out of Starlight Bay Community Church into brilliant April sunshine. Logan squeezed my hand, his smile carrying that secretive edge I'd noticed all morning.

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