Page 11 of The Summer I Stayed
She hums, crossing her arms. “I didn’t realize you had super vision. Want to get a closer look?”
“Only to make sure you don’t destroy my sander,” I retort, stepping toward her.
Her mouth opens in mock offense. “Well, Mr. Expert, care to show me how it’s done?”
I hesitate for a moment before extending my hand for the sander. “You want to keep even pressure and move in slow, steady motions.”
Maggie watches me intently as I demonstrate. The sander is silent in my grip as I glide it over the door, illustrating the technique. “You try,” I encourage, stepping back to give her room.
She takes the sander eagerly and starts to move it against the grain of the wood. “Like this?”
I shake my head. “See these circular patterns you’ve left on the wood? You’re supposed to move it with the grain of the wood.”
She nods, looking a little sheepish. “Right, with the grain.”
Without thinking, I place my hand on top of hers and begin to move the sander with the grain. Her eyes flick up to meet mine, and I realize our proximity. I quickly pull away, trying to ignore the warmth that seeped through her skin into mine.
“Hollis!”
I turn to the welcome interruption of Tom, my longtime friend, stepping out of his red truck.
“Tom,” I greet him, glad for the distraction.
He thumbs over his shoulder toward his truck. “Brought back the tools I borrowed last time.” A wide grin stretches across his face as he saunters over, throwing an arm around my shoulder in a brotherly manner. “And who do we have here?”
“Maggie,” she introduces herself, extending a hand to Tom.
“Tom. Pleasure to meet you, Maggie,” he says, shaking her hand before turning back to me with a teasing glint in his eye. “How are you bearing this grump?”
Maggie giggles, a sound that makes my chest oddly tight. “Oh, he’s not that bad.”
Tom raises an eyebrow at me before turning back to Maggie with a laugh. “Ah, fresh eyes. They always see the best in us.”
I grunt in response. His teasing nature is familiar and usually welcome. But with Maggie standing here, giggling at his response, it makes my stomach feel queasy. Maybe I’m just hungry.
“You’re softening with age, Hollis.”
Just as I open my mouth to retort, a blur of gray fur whizzes past us, barreling toward Maggie like a cannonball. Maverick. He bounds over, nearly knocking her off her feet.
“Easy, Mav!” I call out, wrapping my arm around Maggie to stabilize her.
“Looking for these?” she laughs, reaching into her pocket to pull out a small bag of dog treats.
Maverick lets out an excited bark.
“Sit,” she says firmly. To my surprise, he actually obeys her. His tail thumps against the ground as he sits politely in front of her. He tries to be still, but his anticipation is clear from the way his whole body wags along with his tail.
She rewards him with a treat, earning an eager lick on her hand in return. Maverick’s eyes shine with adoration, and I can’t say I blame him.
Tom chuckles at the display, clapping me on the shoulder as he leans closer. “You’ve met your match.”
“What?” I furrow my brows at him.
“Y’all have got work to do, so I’ll let you get back to it,” he says, ignoring my question. “Maggie, it was a pleasure. And if this guy gives you any trouble, let me know. I’ll set him straight.”
Maggie smiles at me, a hint of amusement in her eyes.
“See you at the station tomorrow, Hollis.” Tom salutes me as he backs up toward his truck.
