I opened my mouth, closed it, then shook my head. “I’m not sure what to say. He didn’t deserve you, and I’m so sorry about how it ended.”
“Don’t be. I was pissed off and confused and my confidence took a serious blow, but I realized almost immediately that I never felt jealous. I wasn’t broken at the thought of him with someone else. I was just…more humiliated than anything.” Her eyes looked suspiciously shiny and I nodded in silence. “Anyway, I drank my way through it. Now I’m here with you, and we are going to have an amazing couple of days. Starting with checking out this adorable antique and crafts shop.”
She pointed to a little hobbit-sized hut I hadn’t noticed before, but I knew immediately it was her style. Advertisements for homemade quilts and candles hung in the frosty windows and I followed her as she practically sprinted toward the entrance.
“Trevor would never go in places like this. He called them granny shops.”
“Then let’s go in. By all means.”
I motioned for her to go inside and all at once we were flooded by the smell of a thousand candles and thick, warm air.
Quilts hung from the walls and little displays of handcrafted soaps and lotions were littered through the rest of the tiny room.
Maggie wandered over to one of the quilts that was made from a soft, fluffy fabric in muted grays, creams, and pink. She ran her fingers over the intricate stitching.
“I wish I could do something like this. It’s incredible,” she murmured.
“Thank you, dear.” A woman who looked like she’d been around for the signing of the Declaration of Independence spoke from behind the counter, and Maggie turned to face her. “You did all this yourself?”
The lady nodded, her white curls springing up and down with the motion. “Yes I did, missy. The arthritis hasn’t gotten me just yet.” She closed one blue eye in a broad wink.
“It’s amazing. Really. You should be very proud.” Maggie grinned at her.
“You know, I bet you could learn to do it, too,” I offered and the kindly old lady nodded.
“Months to learn and a lifetime to master. But you’ll never be cold a night in your life.” She laughed at her own feeble joke and we laughed along with her.
As they continued to talk, I walked back to the quilt and glanced at the price tag. Not cheap by any means, but given our touristy location and the quality of the craftsmanship, it seemed fair. I gathered the quilt in my arms and set it on the counter.
“I’ll take it.”
“Sam, no,” Maggie said. “You already bought my ticket here and I can’t—”
“It’s not for you. It’s for my place. You never have any blankets when you come over and you always love to snuggle under them. It’s about time you had one,” I countered.
Fact was, I’d have gotten her just about anything under the sun to see her smile again.
“But Sam...” Maggie said, but the woman behind the counter waved her off.
“You know, my mother always said to accept a gift with a smile and a hearty thank you,” the old woman interjected.
I raised my eyebrows at Maggie. “See? And you always give me grief when I argue with you about the stuff you get me. Now can you please just—”
“Fine,” she said with a chuckle. She rolled her eyes but grinned all the same. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I handed the woman my credit card and she swiped it before shoving the whole of my new quilt into a bag.
This could be good and bad. A quilt like this would be a reminder of Maggie to keep in the house. Every time I looked at it, I’d think of the way her eyes had sparkled as she surveyed the neat stitching and fine seams.
Maybe I should make her take it home after all…
“There you go!”
The old woman’s gravelly voice snapped me out of my daydreams and I took the bag gratefully.
“Thank you again,” I said, and she nodded.
“A pleasure. Always nice to see young couples in this village. Especially a pair as perfectly matched as you two.”
Maggie blinked, her eyes widening, but I just smiled and took her arm.
“Have a great day,” I called back over my shoulder as I led her from the shop and out into the crisp air.
“Okay, good stop. Where to next?” I asked.
Maggie looked at me, dazed, and then shook her head and said, “Uh, I dunno…Italian food maybe? Trevor hated tomatoes. And mozzarella cheese.”
A clear indicator that he was a fucking monster as far as I was concerned, but I held back the commentary, settling on, “Your wish is my command.”
We followed the cobblestones deeper into the little village until we reached a strip of shops and restaurants. We checked out a couple of them from the outside and settled on a bistro tucked in the corner.
When we walked in, the scent of spicy sauce and garlic greeted us and I knew we’d picked the right place. Fires crackled merrily in every corner of the restaurant and we selected our seat near one. We’d just taken off our coats and had settled in when a smiling waitress came over and handed us some menus.
“I’ll never understand that,” Maggie said suddenly.
“What?” I asked, not taking my eyes from the menu.
“Why people always think we’re together. You know, Trevor used to get so mad because one time when we went out with you, some woman made a comment to him about being a third wheel.”
I raised my menu a little higher, careful to hide my grin. “Yeah, it’s weird, huh?”
“It’s just strange to assume. I mean, we could be brother and sister.”
Friend-zoned had been bad enough. And now, just when I thought there was a glimmer of hope…
She thinks of me as her fucking brother? Just kill me now.
A knife twisted in my gut but I kept my voice level. “You think so?”
“Yeah. Maybe. I don’t know, it’s just weird. So what are you thinking of ordering?”
In truth, I hadn’t seen a single word on the menu yet and suddenly felt like the last thing I wanted to do was eat.
“I think we should start with some hot toddies,” I announced, snapping the menu shut. “I ate a late lunch and I’m not that hungry.”
She grinned and closed her menu, tossing it on the table next to mine. “I can definitely hold off on the food and I’ve always wanted to have a hot drink near a snowy ski lodge. Trevor hates snow so…”
I nodded. “You got it then.”
And truthfully, after that brother-sister comment?
Alcohol was the best idea I’d had all day.
Chapter Five
Maggie
Shortly after our drinks arrived, Frick and Frack—AKA Peter and Jeremy—texted and we had them join us at the restaurant.
Together, we all decided to split a couple pizzas and, from there, the conversation fell easily into what sick moves they’d managed to pull off while they were carving through the snow.
Every now and then, Sam would shoot me a sympathetic look, knowing that I had no idea what they were talking about, but in truth, their company was a welcome break. Between what the woman in the shop had said and the lady on the plane’s insinuation, my mind was going a mile a minute and I was beginning to look at Sam in a way I definitely shouldn’t be.