Page 66 of Ransom

"So," Maggie says, a mischievous glint in her eye. "A little birdie told me Max had pie for breakfast."

I groan. "That little rat. I knew he'd snitch."

"It has fruit," Maggie mimics in a high-pitched voice, laughing. "That's bullshit."

"You've got to admit, the kid's not wrong."

Maggie rolls her eyes, but her smile is fond. "You're a terrible influence, Blair McKenna."

"You love me anyway," I tease, bumping her shoulder.

"God help me, I do," she sighs dramatically.

We wave at Mrs. Peterson watering her flowers. "Morning, ladies!" she calls out. "Maggie, how are you feeling today?"

"Oh, you know," Maggie replies with a shrug. "Some days are better than others. Today's not too bad."

Mrs. Peterson nods sympathetically. "Well, you just let me know if you need anything, dear."

"Will do, thanks!"

As we continue walking, Maggie's grip on my arm tightens slightly. "So, speaking of things I need to know about," she says, her tone casual but her eyes sharp. "How are you feeling about the whole Ransom thing?"

I sigh, knowing I can't avoid this conversation. "He's still in town. Or at least, he was yesterday."

Maggie's eyebrows shoot up. "Holy Jesus. I thought he left. What happened? How did you find out?"

"He came by the shop yesterday," I admit. "And then we talked after work."

"Blair McKenna!" Maggie stops in her tracks, tugging me to a halt. "You better spill all the details right now."

I laugh, shaking my head. "There's not much to tell, honestly. We talked, I forgave him."

"You forgave him?" Maggie's eyes widen. "Just like that? You? The woman who literally spat every time someone said his name for the decade after he left?"

I forgot about that. Apparently, I wasn't as good at hiding my emotions as I thought I was. "I had a lot of feelings to process."

"A lot of feelings is a big fucking understatement, Blair."

"Alright! Fine. But…it was time to let it go. I don't have the headspace for it anymore, Mags. I have to let the anger go, so I have room for everything else."

Her eyes get glassy, and she looks down the street, blinking. She knows exactly what I mean when I say 'everything else.' Finally, she sniffs and turns back to me. "So you talked. Give me the details. Don't leave any of the good stuff out. My love life is non-existent, and I’m living vicariously through you."

I give her the details she asked for, but I don't tell her how it felt to sit next to Ransom. Not close enough to feel the heat of hisbody, but close enough to feel like a woman. It sounds dumb, but for me, it's a fact. Most of the time, I'm as big or bigger than the men I interact with on a daily basis. There are a few exceptions, like Matt and Adam.

Ransom's so much wider through the shoulders than he used to be. So much taller. And his face looks lived in. Ransom at fifteen was hot. Ransom at forty is devastating. "He's got a good life now, Mags. He built a family for himself. And I have a family too." I give the hand on my arm a little squeeze. "It was time to let go of all that old anger."

We start walking again, pausing to let Mr. Granger cross the street with his ancient basset hound.

"Morning, girls," he wheezes. "Beautiful day, isn't it?"

"Sure is, Mr. Granger," I reply with a smile. "How's Buster doing?"

"Oh, same as always. Stubborn as a mule, but loyal as they come."

We watch them amble away before Maggie turns back to me. "So, what happens now? With Ransom, I mean."

I shrug. "Nothing, I guess. I don't think he'll be back again. He seemed to finally understand that I'm happy here and I'm not selling the garage. Ever."

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