“Yes ma’am. In a minute. Just want to make you have things under control first.”
I added more oil to the pan,notlooking at Maverick, who hovered somewhere over my left shoulder, not moving. We stood without speaking as the pan heated, and as I added the salmon filets to the oil.
As the silence dragged on, my temper rose until it bubbled over like boiling water, and I turned away from the stove and crossed my arms. “I didn’t ask for, nor do I require your assistance—when it comes to my ex, dinner, or anything else.”
“It doesn’t mean you lack anything by asking for help,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck before turning away from me and sitting back down at the little table, the beers all but forgotten. He turned the chair to face me, his legs spread wide and his elbows resting on his knees, watching me with a thoughtful but stern expression.
“No, it does not. But there’s a big difference between me asking for help and you inserting yourself into situations because you think I need rescuing.”
His expression changed so fast I’d need to check for whiplash later. Maybe he wasn’t used to women who pushed back. Whatever the reason, his expression only darkened further as he stood and cracked his knuckles, towering over me and invading my space.
“I heard you were invited to karaoke night.”
“I was, but I’m not so sure it’s a good idea. Between drama with Trey, and my dad…” My voice trailed off as I shruggedbefore turning back to the stove and gently flipping the salmon over. “I mean, who knows where I’ll even be in six months.”
“And you think that’s a good enough reason not to…” When he didn’t finish his sentence, I turned from the stove, keeping my eyes on my shoes so I wouldn’t have to look at him. “Fine. You’ll give me an answer soon, Summer, and be missed if you don’t come and sing.”
“Would you miss me, Maverick?”
He stepped away from me and to the glass door that led onto the porch, opening it. I didn’t bother turning around, knowing whatever moment we’d shared, I’d ruined it with overthinking.
I’d always ruin things.
“Yeah, woman. I’d miss you.”
When the door closed with a click, I dared to turn around, watching as he walked across the yard and back to Bev’s house. My eyes strayed to the way his shirt stretched across his broad back, and the hint of ink peeking from his sleeves.
Because everything was fine.
Just freaking fine.
Chapter 14
There had tobe some sort of underlying personality quirk I’d yet to discover. Some innate part of my psyche that made me a glutton for punishment. There was no other explanation for me taking part in the nonsense that was Karaoke Night.This chaos was meant for girls after a breakup and guys when they drank too much. Any red-blooded male in his right mind wouldn’t be caught dead flipping through a decade old, three-ring binder with beer stained, sticky pages that listed bad country songs intermixed with soft rock, top ten hits from the nineties.
“Another drink?” Magnum asked, taking the empty bottle from my hand and motioning to the bar.
My eyes barely flicked over the space before landing back on the table of women laughing loudly and almost comically ignoring me.This entire evening made my left eye twitch. And with every not-so-covert glance in my direction, I knew freaking Summer just had to be running her mouth about something, probably me making a fool of myself in her kitchen.
Why I’d allowed myself to act like such an idiot was still a mystery, or perhaps the result of exposed asbestos from those old kitchen cabinets we’d ripped out last week. There was no other reason for the insistent giggling coming from her table, right?
I knew I wasn’t much to look at, but my clothes were clean, and before Miller showed up and practically dragged me out of the house, I’d even managed to spray on that expensive cologne I got for Christmas last year. There was notonegood reason for all the ruckus coming from those pushed together four-tops. No amount of fruity tropical drinks or martinis with chocolate swirled inside the glass could cause the group of girls to lose their inhibitions that much—except if it was at my expense.
I glared at Addison as she flipped her long, red hair over her shoulder and then threw her head back, laughing at something her friend—Mina, maybe?—had said. Addison’s husband, our business partner, Simon, sat at a table close by with Mark and Miller.
My feet moved a step closer, wondering if I should overtly sit with them so I could stop whatever nonsense was happening with the girls. As if he sensed my inner turmoil, Magnum knocked his shoulder against mine and arched a brow before motioning with his head to the bar.
“Yeah.” I scrubbed a hand over my face and tore my eyes away from the table on the opposite side of where we were perched.
“She’s going to be okay for five minutes without you staring,” he joked, slapping me on the back as he passed. I scoffed, following him to the end of the bar and scowling while he waved down the bartender. “What the hell is going on with you?”
“Me? Nothing. The real question is, why aren’t you sitting at the table with the other whipped men reminiscing about your recent honeymoon.”
“Whipped men? You mean our brothers?”
“Whatever. I’ll take another IPA, please.” I turned away from him and waited patiently for the beer, determinednotto let my eyes stray back to that table.
“She sounded pretty good singing, right? What was the name of that song again? Courageous? Confident?”
