She watched him for a long moment. “Do you ever miss being a cop? You know, the excitement of it all?”
“Why would I?”
She shrugged. “Because for as long as I’ve known you, you always wanted to be a cop. Or at least that’s what Laurel told me.”
He studied her, assessing, before he explained, “You’re right. Being a cop was always my dream job. I come from a long line of cops, so it’s kind of in my blood. But working for Nash is good too. I needed a change after Laurel passed away. I couldn’t go back to that life.”
Maisie nodded, remembering how Hayes had been when she’d first walked into his house that day and found him so utterly broken. “I get that. Laurel’s death was hard for me too.” She hesitated, then quickly corrected, “I mean, not as hard as it must have been for you—”
“You loved her too,” Hayes interjected gently, reaching out to comfort her with a hand on her arm. “Laurel was in your life longer than mine.”
“Yeah, she was,” Maisie drawled, thinking of how things had been for her after Laurel passed away. “You know, that’s what was the hardest. If something happened good or bad, I’d always reach for the phone to call her, but then I—”
Hayes flinched.
“Sorry.” She reached for his hand on her arm, tangling her fingers with his, squeezing gently. “We can talk about something else.”
“Nah, it’s all right.” He grabbed her hand again when she began pulling away. Eyes on her, he placed a kiss on the back of her hand before letting go. “Talking about Laurel is good. It’s nice to remember her and not only see pain.”
Maisie reached for her fork. “I think so too. My sisters really pulled me out of the dark time. So did Penelope. They filled that void. Became the friends I needed.”
“Which is what makes pulling these festivals off so important to you?”
“Exactly.” She scooped some cheese grits onto her fork, liking how easily Hayes seemed to understand her. “I’m not sure where I’d be if it weren’t for my sisters and Penelope. And while the brewery was never really my thing, I don’t want to fail them, not after they were there for me.” At Hayes’s understanding nod, she continued. “Clara’s the brains of the brewery. Her ideas are just incredible. And Amelia is the reason Foxy Diva is such a hit. It took her months to perfect the beer, altering my grandfather’s recipe. Now it’s my turn to do my part.”
“And you’re doing it,” he said reassuringly.
She shrugged slightly. “I’ll breathe a lot easier when these festivals are over. Clara will have what she needs to push ahead to find a distributor for the beer. And my part in all this will be done.” Then she’d have to figure out what to do next within the company. Maybe she could take over the social media and marketing since they were gaining more followers.
“We’ll get there,” Hayes stated. “See this through.”
Her chest expanded, air a little easier to drag in. He watched her in a new way, with a little more curiosity and a lot more heat, and she liked it. She ate the cheese grits, wondering what Laurel would think of all this. Her with Hayes. She guessed from her friendship with Laurel, her friend would say, “The guy you’re with isn’t the Hayes I knew. The husband I loved died when I did. He’s someone different now. Someone you like. Just be happy.”
“Can I ask you something?”
She glanced up, finished her bite. “Sure.”
Hayes’s expression turned probing. “Why have you been single for so long? You dated when Laurel was alive. Had that one boyfriend for a year.”
“Seth?”
Hayes nodded. “Yeah, that one. Whatever happened to him?”
She hesitated, wondering if she should share, considering the truth may hurt. Deciding the truth mattered above all else, she explained, “After Laurel passed away, I changed. Hell, everything changed. I began to take things more seriously, and I think it all got too real for him. Too dark, I think.”
“So, things got tough and he bailed?”
“I know it seems harsh, but I couldn’t really blame him. Things went from super fun to super sad. All I did was cry. He wasn’t looking for that. He wanted fun Maisie.”
“You might not blame him, but I do,” Hayes muttered, scooping up pulled pork on his fork. “Have you seen him since?”
She pushed the grits around with her plastic fork. “He called a while back. It was actually kind of sweet. I think he felt bad for the way he had acted. Wanted to make sure I was okay.”
Hayes’s eyes searched hers. “Are you okay?”
Emotion thickened her throat. She pushed past it. “I actually think I am.” She hesitated, trying to collect her thoughts, not even really sure herself. “My heart changed with Laurel’s murder. I just don’t think I ever knew the world could be so cruel. You always hear of bad things happening, but how could something so horrible happen to someone so good?” She glanced to her food, so Hayes wouldn’t see the welling of her tears. “It took me a very long time to see the beauty in things again. And to realize that, while there are evil people, there are more good.”
A long sigh fell from his lips, and he gave a slow nod. “I can understand that.”
She wiped the fallen tear before he noticed. “So, to answer your dating question, I didn’t date the year after Laurel left us, because I didn’t want anyone in my life.”
“What about the year after that?”
She looked at him, finding his attentive stare on her. I helped you, she wanted to say. But not wanting to make him feel bad about taking up her time, she said instead, “The brewery started to take off and that took over my life.”
He stared at her intently, a million unknowns hanging in the air, and she looked out and found Ralph giving her a cute smile from behind his tent. She smiled back and gave him a little wave. He returned it, but then the smile vanished and he looked away.
One look at Hayes told her why. Hayes glared in the guy’s direction. Don’t, his expression demanded. This time, she smiled. “So, enough about me, you did spend the night in jail. Are you sure you’re really okay?”
Hayes looked at her with something that looked like possession flaring in his eyes. “I am now.”
7
By the time they got back to their room for the night at the Range, Hayes was almost too spent from the long day to notice the hellish room they’d walked into. Almost. What had Clara been thinking when booking this place?
An oil painting of a deer in the forest hung over the queen-size bed with the brown and orange floral bedspread, the same orange color of the shag carpet. While the place itself looked clean enough, Hayes suspected it hadn’t been redecorated since the 1970s.
“Yeah, it went really well,” Maisie said into her phone to Clara as she shut the door behind her.
Hayes dropped their overnight bags by the end of the bed and then pointed toward the bathroom.
“Shower,” he mouthed.
Maisie gave him a thumbs-up and said to Clara, “Right? I was thrilled with how excited everyone seemed to be. My Instagram was blowing up all night.” Hayes headed for the bathroom door, but paused before closing it as she added, “Yup, Hayes was fine. Don’t worry. We’re all good here.”