Page 16 of Second Chance for the Grump

No, wait, Rowan.

Before I worried about kidnapping Maisey and taking her to Alaska, I had to settle the problem standing in our way.

Her ex.

And getting Charlie back. I wasn’t sure how a standard poodle would fare in Alaska’s winter, but I was willing to give it a shot. We’d pick him up some winter jackets before making the journey.

Maisey caught my eye, catching me staring at her, and smiled.

I smiled back, my grin too big for the way my emotions rumbled inside me. One glance from her, and she had me acting like a damn high schooler.

“You’re staring, young man,” said someone at my side.

I jerked and repositioned myself. How the hell had someone snuck up on me? The old man smiled, and I frowned. Especially a man who seemed to be in his late eighties. What was happening to me? How could I protect Maisey if I couldn’t even foresee this guy coming?

“I was not,” I said, answering his comment about the staring.

He ripped off a chunk of his funnel cake and waited to shove it into his mouth. “You were.”

My frown deepened, and I grunted at him. I would not fight with a man eating a funnel cake. I had too much dignity.

“You know, she’s been miserable without you.”

My jaw tightened. What was he trying to do?

He gave a little laugh at my rough expression and slapped me on the shoulder while he chewed. “Don’t screw it up this time.”

“I…” My sentence trailed off because I didn’t have an argument, and he wandered off in a new direction.

Maisey handed the woman beside her another candle, and they both sniffed it, making matching faces of dislike.

The guilt I’d carried around for two years settled against my shoulders again as I watched her and tracked which candles Maisey liked as well as those she didn’t. The old guy wasn’t wrong.

I’d hurt Maisey.

And myself.

Badly.

The fact that she called me, asked for help, let me stay at her place, and then kissed me still felt like a miracle.

I couldn’t mess it up this time. I wouldn’t.

Metal crashed somewhere close. The sound echoed across the festival, and everyone froze. My head snapped toward the disruption.

Instinct took over immediately. We were in a crowd, with noise, and now movement.

I ran toward Maisey, getting to her in less than a second as a man to our left swore, cutting through my worry.

“Sorry, folks. Nothing important,” he said, holding up a hand. “I told Mary that leg wouldn’t hold up another season.”

Someone sputtered, I’m guessing Mary. “I told you to buy a new one, Frank!”

“That’s foolish. I’m not gonna buy a new one when I could just fix this one,” he said, doing his best to right the collapsed table and scattered hand-embroidered kitchen towels.

Mary marched toward him, and I moved out of her way. “Well, you aren’t doing that either.”

Maisey giggled and leaned into me. “They’ve been married a long time,” she whispered.