Liam stared at her for a long beat, his lips slowly curling upwards to match the gleaming look in his eyes. Without saying anything, he turned to the small fridge that sat tucked under the back counter, returning with a six-pack of beer and placing it in front of Maggie.
“Stone and Wood Pacific Ale,” Liam said. “All the way from Byron Bay, Australia.”
“I’ll take it.” Maggie handed her credit card across the bar, ignoring the questioning look on his face.
“So, what are the two of you up to tonight? Is this a hot date, or something?” he asked as he processed the transaction.
“No,” she guffawed. “It’s a not-date.”
He arched a brow.
She went on to explain, “I invited him over for dinner. Just a little something to say thank you for helping me at my house. Evan doesn’t date. You know that.”
“No. He doesn’t date …” Liam handed her credit card back, placing the beer into a brown paper bag and though he wouldn’t meet her eyes, she couldn’t miss the knowing smirk on his lips. “But he did come in here all frantic a little earlier, asking me if I remembered what kinda wine you ordered that first night you were in here.” He lifted his face, a glint flashing in his eyes as he indicated the beer. “Now this …”
“He what?” Maggie’s brows climbed high in surprise.
“Yeah.” He nodded. “He ran in here in a huff, asked me if I remembered what wine you ordered … which I did, might I add, because I’m the world’s greatest bartender,” he said with a smug smile before continuing, “He had a beer, bought the wine, then he ran outta here yelling something about going to buy a new shirt.”
Maggie stared at him, trying to make sense of his words. Was he being serious? He looked serious, if a little annoying, like a little brother who knew a secret he wouldn’t tell.
“Seems like a date to me.” Liam shrugged, smiling to himself as he wiped down the oak countertop with his rag.
Looking down at the brown paper bag containing the beer, Maggie considered what Liam was telling her, a million confusing thoughts swirling around in her brain. But just when she was going to ask more, they were interrupted by another customer at the bar.
“Have a good night, Miss Maggie,” Liam said with a wink before turning to the elderly gentleman waiting to be served.
Giving him a tight smile, Maggie grabbed her beer and, with a curt nod, she turned and headed back to the restaurant counter to collect her take away, her heart suddenly racing a lot faster at the realization that tonight was a hell of a lot more than just dinner between friends.
Chapter 30
Evan did one final check of himself as he hopped out of his truck. Glancing at the house, he made sure he was out of sight before looking at his reflection in the side mirror and smoothing back his wayward hair. He blew out a hard breath. He was more nervous than he would ever admit out loud, self-doubt flooding his mind.
Grabbing the flowers he’d picked up in town, and the bottle of wine he’d grabbed from Liam at the pub, he couldn’t help but wonder. What if he’d given Maggie the wrong impression? He’d been so quick to emphasize that this wasn’t a date. Was it really not a date? A date was usually dinner out at a nice restaurant. This was a meal at Maggie’s house. Maybe it was just a thank-you dinner. Maybe he should have stopped at the wine; the flowers might give off the wrong impression. Evan Boyd didn’t date. Or … did he?
Looking down at himself, he’d even dressed the part of a date in his good pair of blue jeans and the crisp white button-down he’d frantically picked up from Millers at the last minute. He’d sprinted into the department store right as they were closing when he’d realized his only other button-down was still in the laundry hamper from a week ago. God, he really needed to get his shit together.
Shaking his head, he sighed heavily in defeat. This was totally a date. Hell, he’d even trimmed his beard. Not a date? He scoffed to himself and almost laughed out loud. He needed a drink. That’d help calm his thundering heart. He’d had a beer at the pub when he picked up the wine for tonight. He’d gone there specifically to ask Liam if he remembered what kind of wine Maggie’d ordered that night at the pub. Of course, the cocky bartender had remembered. He’d smugly confessed that he remembered everything about Maggie. Then he’d winked. Evan had almost reached over the bar and grabbed the kid by the scruff of his shirt until he realized he was just trying to rile him up.
“Are you just going to stand out here all night?”
Evan almost jumped a foot in the air. He turned toward the sound of Maggie’s angelic voice, but he couldn’t see her. Sure, it was dark, the moonlight wasn’t bright tonight like it was most nights, but as he scanned the area, he couldn’t see her anywhere.
“Over here …”
Turning again, he found her standing in the open window smirking knowingly at him from inside the house.
Shit. He’d been busted in his moment of hesitation.
Holy shit … He was forced to do a double take.
Of course Maggie looked beautiful. She always did. But tonight she looked different. Her normally long brown hair was now sitting just shy of her shoulders, the ends a little lighter than the rest which brought out the green in her eyes.
Evan shook his head in an attempt to snap himself out of his daze. Clearing the sudden bubble from the back of his throat, he managed to mutter, “Oh, hey.”
“You coming in?” Maggie asked with a giggle, waving him in.
“Yeah. Sure …” Evan clutched his bottle of wine and those damn flowers like his life depended on it, turning and walking around the house to the porch.
He paused at the first step, taking in the space. It had been transformed. Sparkling fairy lights had been strung up illuminating the porch along with glowing lanterns and a few strategically placed citronella candles. A small table was neatly set with a tiny glass vase of wildflowers and delicate dinnerware.
He was forced to bite back his own shit-eating grin; this was totally a date. He mentally high-fived himself for buying the flowers.
Inside, the house smelled like a dream. Vanilla with floral undertones and so Maggie-like, but also delicious with the hint of something that made his stomach rumble with anticipation. Evan almost floated through to the kitchen. As he continued through the door, he stopped to take in the scene.
Maggie looked good. Better than good. Tight jeans and a delicate white strappy top that made her olive skin pop. Her feet were bare, and he couldn’t help but notice the pale pink polish on her toes. Her feet were a bigger turn-on than he’d ever imagined feet could be; he forced himself to look away.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Maggie began, turning to him, which was when he noticed the sheepish smile on her face. “I got held up at the salon talking to Barb, and I ran out of time to cook anything. So, I just picked up a few things from the pub.”
Evan’s gaze settled over her shoulder to where there were a few aluminum trays set up on the countertop.
“I didn’t know what you’d like, so I just ordered a few different things. Mac and cheese. Clam chowder. Crab stuffed haddock. Cobb salad.”
“It all looks great.” Evan smiled, moving forward. Remembering the flowers and wine in his hands, he looked down at the items, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. Looking back up, he met her kind eyes with a nervous smile as he handed her the gifts. “For you.”
Maggie’s cheeks flushed as she looked from the wine to the flowers, back to the wine, a small smile tugging at her perfect lips. “Oh, my favorite wine. How on earth did you know?”
Evan felt his cheeks heat. Pressing his lips together, he shrugged a shoulder. Sure, he could’ve told her the truth, that he’d gone to the pub like a goddamn stalker and asked Liam if he remembered what kind of wine she’d ordered the last time she was there. But he already felt way in over his head. And women liked an air of mystery, right?
“Flowers and wine …” Maggie mused out loud, casting him a wry glance. “Very date-ish. Don’t you thin
k?”
His cheeks flamed. What the hell? He wasn’t the kind of guy to blush; suddenly his cheeks were turning pink every few minutes like a sixteen-year-old schoolgirl. He hoped like hell she didn’t notice.
“Would you like a beer?”
“Um, yeah. Sure. Thanks.”
“Help yourself. There’s a six-pack in the fridge. I grabbed it from the pub when I picked up dinner. Liam helped me pick out your favorite …”
Evan paused on his way to the refrigerator, picking up on her playful tone. “Wait …” He turned, looking at her. “That cocky little shit told you about the wine, didn’t he?”
Maggie glanced at him with an innocent flutter of her lashes despite the smile she was trying to conceal. “Nice shirt, by the way,” she said knowingly, running her eyes over the white button-down he was wearing.
Evan shook his head, chuckling under his breath. “I swear, I’m gonna kill him.”
Maggie giggled. “I’m going to put these in some water.”
He watched as she made quick work of pulling a big glass vase from one of the overhead cabinets, humming to herself as she filled it with water and began arranging the flowers. He couldn’t help but grin to himself as he turned and took a Stone and Wood—his all-time favorite beer—from the fridge. He may have been caught out, but he no longer cared; this was totally a date.
***
Maggie groaned somewhat shamelessly, her eyes rolling back in her head. “Oh! This is so good,” she murmured as she popped another forkful of stuffed haddock into her mouth.
“Those noises should be illegal,” Evan finally said, shifting in his seat while clearing his throat.
She couldn’t help but flush at his words, butterflies fluttering low in her belly when she realized what he was saying and why. “Sorry.”
He flashed her a mischievous smirk before mopping some of the garlic butter off his plate with half of his bread roll.
With a sip of wine, Maggie took the opportunity to study Evan while he was busy finishing his meal. He looked handsome tonight. More handsome than usual, if that was even possible. But more than handsome, he looked carefree and happy. He was always happy, or maybe cocky was a better term to use, but with that facade he put on there was a heaviness about him. Not tonight. Tonight he seemed genuinely happy. Tonight his eyes crinkled at the corners with his boisterous laughter, and it made Maggie smile, wondering if maybe, just maybe, it was because of her.
“Can I ask you something?”
Evan looked up from his now clean dinner plate. His eyes met Maggie’s with a curious regard. Nodding, he picked up his beer bottle and took a long pull, relaxing back in his chair.
Maggie hesitated for a moment. She didn’t want to cross any lines, but she also wanted to know more about him. Where he went all those years ago, and why he came back. So, throwing caution to the wind she did ask, “Why did you come back here?”
A slight furrow appeared between Evan’s brows as he stared at her for a few long beats. “What do you mean?”
Maggie shifted, averting her eyes and toying with the stem of her wineglass as a distraction from his weighty stare. She contemplated herself a moment, before looking up at him again. “I was just wondering what made you come back.”
He nodded slowly. With a resigned sigh, he rested his elbows on the table, clutching his beer bottle a little tighter, his carefree happiness fading by the second.
Maggie offered a casual shrug. “Why would you give up on what you loved, what you were obviously so good at, to come back here to fix boats?” Realizing how harsh that sounded, she cowered, shrinking a little in her chair. “Sorry. That sounded really rude. There’s nothing wrong with fixing boats. I just … Oh God. You don’t have to answer … I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay.” Evan chuckled, interjecting her ramblings.
She gave him an apologetic look, hating herself at that moment.
“The truth is I came back here because I lost my shit.” Evan’s gruff words caused her to stiffen a little. He avoided her eyes, focusing on the beer in his hands, his fingernail picking at the label as he continued, “I was engaged. I told you that. My fiancée left me.”
When he met her eyes, she nodded, remembering him admitting that after she’d told him about Tom. But there was more to it. She knew it then, and she knew it now. She could see it in his eyes.
“Well, she left me because things got too difficult … shit happened. It caused me to lose my way. I was drinking a lot. Partying. I quit baseball. I just … I gave up.” He shrugged his broad shoulders, sighing heavily as he stared at the bottle.
Maggie looked at him for a long moment, taking in the sheer despondency that had come over him like a looming storm cloud. Jane’s words echoed in her mind and she folded her hands together, hesitating before finally asking, “What … what happened?”
With another heavy sigh, Evan placed his beer onto the table, bowing his head, and she watched his shoulders heave with a deep breath. She suddenly wished she hadn’t asked. But when he looked up again, he leaned over to the side, reaching into the pocket of his jeans. Pulling out a slightly worn brown leather wallet, he opened it, looking down at it for a long moment. Then, taking something out from one of the pockets, he slid it across the table toward her, not meeting her eyes when she offered him a questioning glance.
With her brows knotted together, Maggie’s eyes narrowed on the photograph in front of her. Picking it up, she flashed Evan a cautious glance before looking closer at the picture. The angelic face of a beautiful little girl stared back at her. Golden blonde curls framed a set of chubby cheeks, cornflower blue eyes, and that smile. She’d seen it before. It was Evan’s smile. In fact, the little girl was a miniature version of the brawny man sitting opposite her, and she couldn’t suppress a gasp when it suddenly dawned on her.
Evan looked up, his blue eyes glassy, reflecting the dim glow of the lantern sitting on the table between them. He smiled, but it was forced and didn’t even come close to meeting his eyes. Maggie looked from him to the little girl in the photograph and back again, and, somehow, she just knew, and her heart tore in two.
“Her name was Hannah,” Evan said.
Maggie stared at the little girl, tears pricking her eyes, but she remained strong while he continued. “When I first moved out to Oklahoma to play ball, I met a girl. Hailey. She was like no one I’d ever met before. Not through high school. Not through college. She was different. Beautiful, a little crazy. But me and her, we fell in love, fast. I was always off in different cities playing baseball, but Hailey was that girl for me. And I loved going home to her.”
Maggie smiled, although she could feel his heaviness, and she knew his words were hurting him. She nodded encouragingly for him to continue.
“We were only together a few months before Hailey found out she was pregnant. Nine months later Hannah came into our lives …” Evan paused, swallowing hard, his jaw fixed tight as he stared at the back of the photo Maggie was holding.
“When Hannah was three, she, um, well, she started getting real sick.” He looked down at his hands as he continued, “We didn’t know what was wrong. She slept all the time. She couldn’t walk properly. She hadn’t developed. She wasn’t like all the other three-year-old kids, you know?” He looked at her then and Maggie nodded, trying so hard not to look as sad as she felt deep down. His words were heartbreaking, and she could only imagine what they were doing to him.
“Hannah was diagnosed with an aggressive brain tumor. She passed away a few weeks before her fourth birthday. She’d be almost ten now. Same age as TJ.”
Maggie closed her eyes at that, those infuriating tears of hers burning painfully. She didn’t want to cry. He didn’t need her tears. But she couldn’t help it. Reaching across the table, she grabbed Evan’s hand and she held onto it tight, finally opening her eyes and meeting the sadness in his.
“Hailey, she couldn’t deal with it.” He shook his head. “The loss, it was too much for her to cope
with. So, she split. Moved out to California. I ain’t ever seen her again. Last I heard, she was married to some guy, living just out of Oakland.” Evan sniffled, the only sign that his emotions were getting to be almost too much. “I ended up turning to the bottle. Partying. Doing dumb shit. The coaches tried helping me, but I was beyond help, you know?”
Maggie nodded. She didn’t know, but she could imagine how something so terrible like losing a child would break someone, even someone so strong as Evan.
“I ended up quitting, and one night I was … I was so close to the edge.” A faraway look came over Evan as he stared off into the distance of the night, lost momentarily. Then he shook his head and met Maggie’s eyes again as he continued, “Janie flew out to Oklahoma the following morning. She found me at my worst. Then she packed my shit together and brought me right back here with her. She … she saved my life.”
It suddenly all started to make sense. Evan’s jaded sadness that he hid so well. Jane’s overprotectiveness of her little brother. Evan’s reputation. Maggie remembered something he’d said to her not so long ago; I know what it’s like having to keep secrets … It’ll drive you crazy. She hadn’t known what he’d meant when he told her that while sitting on this very deck a few weeks back. Now she knew, and the thought that he’d been carrying such a heavy weight around with him while she’d been crying on his shoulder and leaning on his apparent strength to deal with her issues with Tom, well, it tore her up.
“I’m so sorry, Evan,” Maggie whispered, carefully handing him back the photograph of his beautiful Hannah.
He took the picture, smiling down at it one last time before tucking it back into the safety of his wallet. Shrugging a shoulder, he picked up his beer and finished what was left before giving Maggie a sad smile. “Wow, I really know how to bring the mood down, huh?” he joked, adding a light chuckle.
Maggie smiled sadly, shaking her head as she reached for his hand again, taking them both in hers. “Thank you for telling me. It means a lot that you’d confide in me about your Hannah. So, thank you.”
The Long Way Home Page 23