ZAYNE PULLED HIS truck up to the Purple Shamrock and headed inside the local hangout. Bridget O’Hearn ran the family business with her Irish husband, Finn. Her last name had been McKinnon back in high school when she and Zayne became friends. An only child, Bridget had been a bit of an outcast, too, despite all her McKinnon cousins. She’d resented the family pub back then for taking all of her dad’s time. She and Zayne had bonded over the chips they carried on their teenage shoulders, hanging out together to make fun of the kids who made fun of them for being different. When her dad died a few years ago, she’d come back to save the business with hopes of selling it, but she’d ended up falling in love—with the pub and with Finn O’Hearn.

“Hey, Zayne.” Bridget slid a glass of ginger ale his way. “You’re usually a lunch guy.”

He took a sip of soda. “I was hungry, thirsty and lazy, so I figured I’d grab something here on my way home. I had a client appointment tonight up in Geneva. Could be a big job.”

“Technically the kitchen closed ten minutes ago, but I’ll make you a burger and fries. Seems like you’re getting a lot of big jobs lately.” She headed toward the kitchen. “I don’t know how you keep up with it all.”

He didn’t. At least not very well. Someone slid onto the bar stool next to his. It was Bridget’s grandmother Maura McKinnon. Maura was one of several women in town who’d done their best to help his family when he was a kid, dropping off food, toys and clothes. At the time, Zayne had resented the charity. He didn’t want anyone’s hand-me-downs or handouts. But honestly? He’d have barely eaten or been warm without those boxes that showed up on the steps of the trailer.

“I hear you’re getting some help with that,” she said, eyeing him with curiosity.

“Help from who?” His was a one-man shop.

“Tani told me Andrea Wentworth is setting up some kind of ordering and billing system.”

“Oh, that.” He shifted in his seat. He hadn’t been comfortable leaving her there alone earlier. There’d been a tightness around her eyes he didn’t like. A shadow behind her determined smile as she insisted he go. He frowned. He wasn’t used to some of the feelings she brought out in him. Like...caring. He shrugged a shoulder, not wanting to reveal this unfamiliar sensation. “She offered, and it’s not costing me anything, so I figured why not?”

Maura tipped her head to the side, sending her short white hair swinging.

“I thought it was costing you a corn maze.”