She shrugged. “Sure, why not?”
She sat cross-legged on the blanket. He sat next to her, his legs stretched out, the light from the flames flickering on his face. He smiled at her. “Nice night. I don’t miss the heat.”
“Me, either, although I’ll probably regret saying that in January.” She fidgeted, uncrossed her legs. “I shouldn’t stay long. I have things to do at home.”
“At least stay until the stars are out.”
She went still, narrowed her eyes on him. That was it, she thought. That knowing tone. That Sloan smugness. “I’ve been set up, haven’t I?”
He leaned toward her. “You didn’t stand a chance. All of us Sloans united to get you out here tonight.”
“My sisters weren’t involved, were they?”
“Do you see them here with pitchforks?” Brandon asked wryly.
“It’s not that they’re against you. They’re just with me.”
His gaze softened. “So am I, Maggie.”
She looked away from him and saw a star twinkling brightly in the darkening night sky. “Brandon…” She didn’t go on. What else was there to say?
“If you want to leave, Maggie—”
“I don’t.”
The words were out before she’d realized she’d said them and that it really was what she wanted. Brandon edged closer to her, and she sank against him, felt his arm settle around her. It was so quiet, just an owl hooting across the field toward Carriage Hill and Quabbin.
“Ah, Maggie,” Brandon said. “Maggie, Maggie.”
“We’re not kids anymore, are we?”
“Maybe not, but we have years of fun left in us.” He kissed her on the top of her head. “Decades.”
As they watched the stars come out, he talked to her about the work he was doing with his family, and he asked her about her catering business and what was up with her and Olivia at Carriage Hill. They talked about adventure travel and treasure hunts left over from Dylan’s father.
The night turned dark, stars glittering overhead. Maggie watched the fire die down, just glowing coals now. At least she’d had the sense to wear jeans and a sweatshirt given the cool temperature. The mosquitoes left them alone.
Finally she said, “I was so afraid of wanting to be back in Knights Bridge—wanting to raise Aidan and Tyler here—that I ended up blaming you. I had to come home because we were on the skids. It was an excuse.” She picked at a loose thread on the blanket, then looked up at him. “It was a bad excuse, and it hurt you and the boys. And me.”
“I’d talked you into thinking it’d be a sign of failure to come back here, and that I didn’t want to.”
She grunted. “You didn’t want to, Brandon. I’ve been listening to you say you couldn’t wait to get out of Knights Bridge and then that you never wanted to go back for years.”
“Yeah. I know.” He shrugged. “But things change.”
Maggie sat up straight, shocked. “You want to be here?”
“Pretty much.” He grinned that easy Sloan grin. “My family’s been waiting to hear me say that since I was just out of diapers. Maggie, I don’t care if you needed someone to blame for wanting to come back here for the boys—for yourself. I can take it.”
“I was so afraid of being impractical and impulsive. Starting my own business, buying a fixer-upper.” She pushed hair out of her face. “Oh, Brandon. I’ve been such an idiot.”
“No, you haven’t. I shut down. I told myself you and the boys would be better off on your own.”
“You were wrong,” she said, more forcefully than she’d intended. “I know you’ve been through a rough period and you’re being responsible, but I don’t want you to give up your dreams. Not for my sake.”
“When I lost my job, I felt like my dreams were what got us into trouble, and I dug a hole deeper for you and the boys.” He touched a finger to her chin. “There’s a lot of history between us, Maggie. When I lost my job, I felt like a failure. I felt like everything I’d told you for years about what I was going to do, how we were going to live, was just a lot of BS.”
“We were teenagers, Brandon. I wasn’t going to hold you to what you said when you were seventeen.”
“Or twenty-five? Thirty? And there you were, still filled with such dreams yourself. I felt like mine had only caused trouble for you and the boys, dug us a deeper hole. I put myself and my pride before you.”
“You put words in my mouth, especially about money.”
“They were what I was telling myself.”
“I didn’t know what to do. You’ve always been there for me, Brandon. Then you weren’t. Or you were, but you didn’t believe that you were. I never saw you as a screwup. You always had such hope and optimism. I didn’t realize how much that meant to me until they weren’t there.”
“We went through a hard year.”