tired.” Maggie forced a smile. “Not really up for doing the mayoral thing tonight.”
“You’re welcome to hang with us,” her friend offered.
“Come with us,” Ellie shouted, grabbing her hand. “We’re going to get apple cider and kettle corn and have our faces painted.”
The warmth of the girl’s fingers wrapped around hers made the band of tension wrapped around Maggie’s stomach ease ever so slightly.
“It’s a real girls’ night out,” Brenna added with a smile at her daughter.
“Then count me in,” Maggie said.
They headed into the square, stopping at each booth. With Brenna and Ellie flanking either side of her, Maggie was able to relax, greeting old friends and various townspeople and remembering why she worked so hard at her job.
She loved this little corner of the Willamette Valley, from the terra-cotta and classical revival-style buildings to the bright yellows and golds of the leaves in the fall.
“At least I’m not getting a ton of side-eye anymore,” Maggie said to Brenna as they stood a few feet from the face-painting booth, waiting for Ellie to be transformed into a Bengal tiger.
Brenna toasted her cider cup against Maggie’s. “I told you all they needed was time. People were a little shocked that you walked away from the wedding, but that doesn’t change what you mean to this town.”
“There are still a few who haven’t forgiven me.” Maggie lifted a finger to touch the small butterfly one of the teenagers working the face-painting station had drawn onto her cheek. Ellie had insisted Maggie get her face done before the girl would agree to sit. “My grandmother might be one of them.”
Brenna made a face. “I can’t help you there. Oh, no. Don’t turn around.”
Maggie immediately looked over her shoulder to see Griffin walking toward them, an unfamiliar woman at his side. The woman was beautiful, with flowing, raven-colored hair, a fashion-model-thin frame and long legs tucked into vintage cowboy boots. She wore a baggy dress that just grazed her thighs, but the shape of a dress didn’t matter when a woman looked like that. Griffin towered over her and was leaning close as the woman gazed up at him.
Maggie’s heart stuttered.
No, they weren’t heading toward her. The two of them were so engrossed in each other they could have been walking on a deserted street for all they noticed the crowd around them.
Until Griffin looked up. His green gaze caught on Maggie, the heat from it like being stabbed with a hot poker.
“What part of ‘don’t turn around’ confused you?” Brenna muttered under her breath.
“It’s fine,” Maggie said, her voice weak as she faced forward again. “Who is she?”
“Maggie?”
Heat pooled low in her belly at the sound of Griffin’s rich baritone. Pathetic. She was the most pathetic woman on the planet. This man had rejected her four months ago. She had no reason to be twitter-pated over him. She had no reason to feel anything for him. To borrow from one of Maggie’s favorite old-school pop songs, tell that to her heart.
But she spun around, pasting a bright smile on her face. “Hey, Griffin. How’s it hang—”
She yelped when Brenna pinched the back of her arm. Hard.
“Hey,” Griffin said slowly, darting a dubious glance between the two of them. “I’m...um...doing fine. How are you?”
“Hunky-dory,” she said, then inwardly cringed as Brenna groaned. “I’m fine, too,” she amended, her cheeks feeling like they’d just caught fire. “Fine.”
“Great.” Griffin nodded and she watched his throat bob as he swallowed. “I wanted to introduce you to an old friend.” He indicated the woman standing next to him. “This is Cassie Barlow. Cassie’s an interior designer up in Seattle. We’ve worked on a few projects together over the years.”
Is that what the kids are calling it now? Maggie thought to herself. She held out a hand, her cheeks aching from the perma-grin plastered across her face. “Nice to meet you.”
“You, too,” the woman said, her eyes bright. “Great butterfly.”
Seriously, could cheek muscles grow so hard they cracked? “I had my face painted,” Maggie said, then sighed. Master of the obvious. How charming.
“My daughter demanded it,” Brenna offered quickly. “Maggie did it for Ellie.”
Griffin introduced Brenna to Cassie and then Cassie turned to Maggie again. “Grif tells me you’re mayor of this town.”
Grif. She called him Grif. Oh, yeah. They worked together. Worked together on getting busy, most likely.
Maggie blinked when she realized everyone was staring at her. “Yes, mayor,” she agreed like an imbecile. “I’m mayor.”
Cassie tilted her head and Maggie thought the other woman must think her the biggest ninny she’d ever met. But Cassie’s eyes remained kind. It was ridiculously difficult to hate someone with such kind eyes.
Ellie ran up to Brenna at that moment, her face painted in black and orange stripes. The girl held up her hands like claws and growled at her mom, then turned to Maggie and roared loudly.
“I’m ferocious,” she announced.
Maggie cowered in mock fear, never so grateful for the interruption. “Oh, scary tiger,” she said, making her voice tremble. “Have mercy on this little butterfly.”
“You’re too tiny for me to eat,” Ellie said with a nod. “I better go get a corn dog.”
Maggie grinned, then looked up at Griffin and Cassie. “You heard the tiger. We’ve got to feed her before she starves.”
“It was lovely to meet you,” Cassie said softly.
“You, too,” Maggie agreed. She gave a casual wave. “See you around, Grif.”
Griffin gave a sharp nod but didn’t respond.
And even though Maggie wanted nothing more than to escape this awkward interaction, she couldn’t quite force her legs to walk away from him until Ellie took her hand and tugged.
“She thinks we’re together,” Cassie murmured as Maggie disappeared into the crowd milling about the town square.
“We are together.” Griffin unclenched his hands, which had ended up fisted at his sides, and concentrated on keeping his expression neutral. It took every bit of willpower he possessed to watch Maggie turn away. He wanted to reach for her, to pull her close and bury his face in her hair, breathing in her flowery scent.
“As in we’re dating.”
