THE NEXT DAY, ANDevery day after, Maverick joined Madge and me for a run on the beach. He didn’t say anything; he just appeared and fell into step with us. Having his quiet companionship did just as much good for my heart as the exercise did – maybe more so. I saw him at my house each day as the repairs were made, but we never had a quiet moment together. Each night, he waited until the final crew member left and then gave me the sweetest kiss before he left. Never anything more and it was making me fucking crazy. I craved his touch more than food or water. If given the choice, I’d have chosen him over air.
It didn’t matter how many times a day I literally took matters into my own hand, my need for him grew stronger and stronger. Did he want me as bad as I wanted him? I saw his need in his eyes each night when he pulled back from our kiss, but he never took it a step further. Maybe this insane need was one-sided on my part. Or, maybe he was waiting for me to make the first move.
“What’s that? Is that a tattoo?” We had stopped to stretch at the end of the run on our fifth day of running together. Unfortunately, he always wore a tank top so I couldn’t get to see the beautiful stretch of skin that I had briefly touched once. Luckily, the tank that day was white so I got an eyeful of sexy when he started to sweat and it clung to his skin. I reached over and traced the outline of the dark ink I could see on his ribcage beneath his tank.
Maverick’s skin rippled beneath my touch and encouraged me to be bolder. I stepped closer to him, mindful that we were on a public beach, and slowly raised his tank until I exposed his tattoo. I gasped when I saw an exact replica of my skeleton key permanently inked on his flesh.
“Veritas,” I whispered. I was certain there was a story behind his tattoo beyond the obvious. I jerked my eyes up to his face, prepared to ask him about it until I saw the longing in his eyes. I wasn’t the only one drowning in need; he was just better at hiding it.
“I couldn’t let go either.” Still, I knew there was more, but it would have to wait because I had to have his lips on mine right then.
“Mav.” It was a whispered warning of my intent. I left one hand on his tattooed ribcage and wrapped the other one around his neck. His lids lowered over his brilliant eyes and his lips met mine halfway. The kiss was as sweet as the previous ones, but I felt how much held back that morning on the beach.
“How about we check out that pub tonight?” Maverick asked once our kiss ended. I knew he was offering more than a dinner between friends. I remembered how much he loved crab legs, but I was pretty certain it wasn’t the reason behind his smoldering eyes.
“Yes.” I was saying yes to all of it. I wanted to invite him back to my house that morning, but the crew and the Johnson boys would be arriving soon. I didn’t want any interruptions or time constraints once I had him naked in front of me. Instead, I kissed him softly once more and whistled for Madge to follow me back home.
The anticipation burned inside of me all day; the closer I got to dinnertime the hotter I burned. I ignored my erection in the shower after my morning run and again after the crew left. The next time I came, it would be on - or in - Maverick, not in my own hand.
Maverick returned for me at 6:00 p.m. as promised. His hair was still damp from his shower and I wondered if he had showed the same restraint that I had all day long. I suspected by the rigidness of his body and the tense way his firm lips compressed together that he had held off too. I briefly thought about inviting him up to my room, but figured the buildup would make it that much more explosive when we actually did come together.
He had traded in his work truck for Lola and it almost felt like she played a part in our mutual seduction. The way her engine rumbled when Maverick shifted her kept the blood rushing through my veins. It might seem very cliché, but watching him handling the gearstick made me think of his hands on my knob and had me fidgeting in my seat. I was about to recommend that we stay at my house and eat-in, but then the smell of seafood and melted butter drifted in through the open windows. My empty stomach reminded me that I had been too excited to eat breakfast or lunch that day.
Maverick turned his car off and looked at me. “I want you just as much, Noah, but more than sex, I really want to take you on a real date.” It wasn’t something we were free to do as kids. Neither of us were out to anyone back then, except to each other. Hell, I didn’t even know if he ever came out.
The pub was just starting to get busy when we arrived. There was music thumping from the speakers and various sports playing on flat screen TVs throughout the bar. I looked around at the tasteful, rustic oceanic décor while we waited at the hostess station.
“How many,” a sweet feminine voice asked. I turned and saw that she was gaping at my date. I couldn’t blame her; Maverick had the dark hair and coloring of his Hispanic heritage on his father’s side and the height and blue eyes of his Norwegian heritage on his mother’s side. Where his mother had very light blue eyes, Maverick’s eyes were a sapphire blue. The combination was enough to make almost anyone stop and stare.
“Two,” Maverick said. I’m not sure who was more surprised, the hostess or myself, when Mav slid his arm around my waist. “We’d like to sit on the back deck, if that’s okay.”
I had to give her credit, because the smile never left her face even through her surprise. “Right this way,” she said, pulling two menus from beneath her stand. I half expected Maverick to drop his embrace when she walked ahead of us, but instead he placed his hand on the small of my back as we followed her to our table. I’d never had a man place his hand there and it felt as intimate, or even more so, than holding hands. “Your server will be with you in a few minutes. Enjoy your night, fellas.”
“Thank you.” We both said in tandem.
The table was quiet while we both perused the menu, but once our orders were placed we settled into an easy conversation about our work. It wasn’t what I really wanted to discuss, but it was a safe start. I was dying to ask about his past, but I wasn’t sure what were acceptable questions. It was obvious as hell that something traumatic had happened to him and that he didn’t want to talk about it. The psychiatrist in me wanted to fix him, but the man in me just wanted to hold him close.
“You have a million questions you want to ask me, don’t you?” He had always been able to read me so well. I used to wear my heart on my sleeve and my every thought expressed on my face. I learned to school my thoughts better during college - not so much because I was going to be a doctor, but because I kept losing my ass at poker.
“I do, Mav, but I don’t want to pry.” I leaned forward and reached out for his hand. Maverick opened his hand and I slid mine over his until our fingers were entwined. “Why don’t you tell me what you feel comfortable talking about. How about baseball? Did you ever play baseball in college like you hoped?”
Maverick turned his head and looked out over the ocean for a few minutes. When he looked back at me, the expression on his face told me that maybe baseball wasn’t such a safe topic after all. I was about to tell him to forget it, but then he started talking.
“I played for two years in junior college and had quite a bit of success. I tried out and made a minor league baseball team after I graduated. I tore my arm up the first year and had to have surgery. It was never the same after that and I got cut from the team.”
“I’m sorry, Mav.”
“It was a long time ago,” he said, trying to brush it off as no big deal. I knew how much he loved baseball. I talked nonstop about pirates, sailing, and hidden treasures while he talked about baseball scores, techniques, and trivia. We had always been an odd pair, but somehow we clicked.
“How’d you get into construction?”
That was something he was more than willing to discuss in great detail. “I started out as a grunt for a well-known contractor in Atlanta once my shoulder was strong enough. I learned so much from Cal and I’m thankful for him every day.” I found myself being a little bit jealous of the glowing way he talked about Cal - his work ethic, the way he treated his employees, and for teaching Maverick how to love and appreciate classic cars. I began to question if their relationship had gone beyond professional, but Maverick quickly rejected that notion with his next words. “He was like the father I never had.”
Maverick had a father. I had met the man, but I also knew their relationship was strained. Maverick told me quite a bit with just that one sentence. I wondered if he no longer spoke with his father at all or just not very often. I shut down my inquisitive mind and let him talk about some of his favorite projects and why he loved old houses so much.
“They have so much character, Noah. If those walls could talk, they could tell us so much. Too many people want to tear down something when it gets a little bit of wear and tear, because it’s easier. Not me. I want to restore things to their former beauty, because houses today aren’t built like they used to be.”
I set my chin in my free hand and listened to him talk so passionately about the job he loved so much. His thumb lazily stroked circles on my hand that he still held while he talked. Just that simple caress had my body thrumming in anticipation for when we were alone. I was almost disappointed when our server brought our meals to the table until I saw Maverick’s face light up over the mound of steamed king crab legs on his plate.
