She was also in his house, with a serious expression, looking like she wanted . . . something. To talk?
Shit. That probably meant a “we need to talk” scenario. He was on borrowed time as it was. He was going to have to make the biggest pitch of his life . . . and he wasn’t really what anyone would call persuasive. Davy had gotten all the charming genes.
He cleared his throat. “Can I get you anything? Something to drink? You hungry?” Anything that would keep her there a little longer, keep her occupied, while he sorted out his argument. Dammit, he should’ve done that today. Lord knows he’d thought enough about it!
She gave him a quick, curt shake of her head.
It really wasn’t looking good.
He grimaced. Well, she had every right to not be interested. But he wasn’t going to just assume, and he wasn’t going to roll over and pretend. He had feelings, dammit. And he had the right to at least present his case.
“Why don’t you have a seat,” he said, surprising himself with how firm his voice was. “I think we probably need to talk.”
She blinked at him, probably taken aback at his tone. She nodded, taking a seat on the couch, and he sat next to her . . . close enough to smell her coconut conditioner and that sweet, slightly spicy scent that was just her, but not so close that she felt crowded or uncomfortable. At least, he hoped not.
“Here’s the thing,” he said. “I talked to my family today—that is, my mom and Davy. Even Sheryl. And a few things became clear. First, I’m not going to keep getting treated like shit, and I said as much.”
Her eyes went wide. “You did? Holy shit, that’s fantastic!” She closed the difference, drawing him into a tight hug and nuzzling against his chest for a second. Then she pulled back. “I mean, it sucks too. But you deserve so much more than the way they’ve been treating you. I’m glad you stood up for yourself. And I hope they pull their heads out of their asses at some point soon.”
He grinned, even though the pain was still pretty fresh. “Davy seems to have come around, which was a surprise,” he said. “Sheryl was still pissy, but I don’t care. As for my mom . . . well. We’ll just see.”
Maggie nodded. “That’s still a hard decision,” she said. “I remember that, from Nana Birdie. It’s easy to feel guilty . . . and relieved.”
“You understand.” Of course she did. Maggie seemed to plug into him on a cellular level. She just got him. “Anyway . . . I never wanted to move back to Fool’s Falls. I came back when my father was dying, and then wound up staying to make sure my mom was okay. But I’m seriously considering moving back to the west side.”
Now her expression fell. “You’re leaving?”
He took a deep breath. This was probably the wrong way to go about this, but now he’d stuck his foot in it, so it was too late. “Not necessarily,” he said. “Here’s the thing. I know we’ve only just started, well, whatever we have between us. We haven’t labeled it. And I don’t want you to feel pressured. We can go as slow as you like. But there’s something there.”
She was staring at him, still as a stone. But she was listening.
“I’ve gotten to know you over the past few months, and I hope it’s obvious that I feel really close to you. I trust you.” He swallowed, then went for it. “I think I fell for you before I knew what was happening.”
Her eyes widened. Her breathing shallowed.
“I’ve been thinking of leaving the Falls for a while now,” he admitted. “Didn’t think I could, because of my family dynamics, but it’s been a long time since I’ve considered it home here. Then I met you. I’m not ready to leave you.”
She was still quiet. She didn’t seem angry, and she would’ve probably said something if she was. Was she still processing? Trying to come up with an escape plan? Ready to grab one of his skillets and whack some sense into him?
What the heck was she thinking?
“My point is, I . . . um. Fell in love with you.” He felt a stubborn bubble of hope. “That’s kind of fast, but I don’t care. I love you.”
She blinked. Then he watched the delicate column of her throat work as she swallowed convulsively.
Then she tackled him.
He let out a surprised “oof” as she spread over him like a blanket, pushing him into the deep couch cushions. He let out a bark of startled laughter.
“I fell in love with you too,” she grumbled, then kissed him. “And I drove here, in the dark, to tell you. And it’s fast, and scary as fuck, but I don’t care. You make me feel safe, and happy, and wanted.”
She rested her chin on her hands, just below his chin, and surveyed him with long-lashed eyes.
“So I am keeping you,” she added solemnly. “We’re not in a hurry, right? We can figure all the other stuff out. But we can do that together.”
He could feel his own wide smile as he kissed her back.
CHAPTER 41
I WAS TOLD THERE WOULD BE CAKE
Aiden couldn’t remember the last Christmas he’d enjoyed this much. He was at Maggie’s house, celebrating with her and Kit. After coming to the understanding that he and Maggie were an Official Couple, he was both excited and nervous to meet Kit under better circumstances. At least Trev had finally fucked off back to Wyoming. After what he’d heard from Maggie, he wasn’t ready to pretend to be polite with that asshole.
He grinned. Maggie was definitely rubbing off on him.
She and Kit had set up a small artificial tree, adorned with mostly homemade ornaments. He’d driven to Spokane and braved the holiday crowds to get them presents, not wanting to show up empty handed. Based on what Maggie had told him Kit was interested in, he got Kit a few anime T-shirts from his favorite geek store. For Maggie, he got a box set of classic-movie DVDs since her streaming service could be spotty in the Upper Falls. He also got her a bunch of wool socks and a large, super-soft sweater. They seemed pedestrian, but he also knew that she’d hate things like jewelry or perfume. These gifts were comfy, for both her body and her mind. He hoped she liked them, anyway.
Now, after enjoying a delicious dinner of rib roast, buttery mashed potatoes, and green beans with slivered almonds, he was full and content and washing dishes while Kit did the drying, since Maggie had done the bulk of the cooking. （He had helped with mashing potatoes this time, something Kit had chuckled at, teasing her for being short.） Maggie was sitting in the living room, looking for Christmas music that “didn’t drive her up a wall” on the TV’s radio stations.
“So,” Kit led, as he towel-dried and put away dishes with the speed of long practice, “you and my mom, huh?”
Aiden felt his cheeks heat, but he nodded. “Yeah.”
“That’s cool,” Kit said. “I should let you know, though. If you do anything that hurts her, I will make your life incredibly, creatively, and unbelievably painful in the short time between my finding out and your body going mysteriously missing. Just so you know.”
Aiden paused in scrubbing the roasting pan, staring at him. Then he started chuckling.
“Kit!” Maggie chastised from the living room. “I heard that!”