Smiling at the way he’d effortlessly diffused any lingering awkwardness, I’d watched as he scratched the five o’clock shadow on his cheeks that had turned into the beginnings of a beard overnight. The streaks of gray throughout his scruff made him even more handsome in the darkness of my bedroom, and for a fleeting moment, I wanted to haul him back to bed and not worry about any repercussions.
Instead, I’d pushed that thought aside and focused on the promise of our date. “I’d like that, Maverick.”
“Good,” he said, moving to scratch his opposite cheek. “And now I won’t be able to think about anything but peeling you slowly out of whatever you intend to wear.”
“Then you better not wait long before you call.”
“Oh, don’t you worry about that. I won’t.”
I’d nodded again, nibbling on my lip until he’d crawled back onto the bed, bracketing his hands on either side of my head and kissing every shred of rational thought from my mind.
With a parting wave and a rare, honest smile afterward, he’d slipped out of my bedroom and down the stairs as I’d drifted back to sleep, not moving a muscle for the rest of the night.
The pleasant memory faded as the scent of pine trees in fall, sandalwood, and freshly washed cotton filled my lungs, causing me to bury my face deeper into the cool, colored silk. I wanted to soak up every millimeter of his unique scent that still permeated the fabric on the opposite side of my bed.
His side of the bed.
Maverick Hansen.
I flipped back around to lie flat, throwing a hand over my face to stave off the morning light seeping in through the blinds, while my mind vividly replayed the events and emotions that had led to us falling into bed together.
The vulnerable expression etched across his features as I’d opened the glass door was unmistakable. The way he ran a handthrough his hair, the gesture slow and weary, and then sighed, a sound like the surrendering of a defeated army. Malibu had risen from her place on the kitchen floor and trotted forward, pressing against him, her body trembling slightly as she let out a low whine, sensing his distress. Even the way he’d held himself gave away his turmoil—the normally broad shoulders and chest slumped, a hand pressed against the door frame with his fingers digging into the wood.
Every minute detail pointed to a man who’d felt the brunt of responsibilities for too long and finally had nothing left to give. My intention was not to take him to bed but to provide him with basic comfort and physical touch. The sturdy presence of another could always quell my nerves even if that physical presence had to come from Trey. Well, until we separated.
But this was different. Maverick was different, reminding me of a cross between a frightened ten-point buck and a possessive grizzly bear. The pleading look in his eyes yesterday stayed at war with the tight, tangible ball of anxious energy that swirled around him like a fractal aura. How could I not reach forward and extend a hand? How could I not melt into his embrace, feeling something so profoundlydifferentfrom every other hug I’d experienced within the last decade?
Was it so impossible to think that every other decision in my life had led me to this moment? Or had I simply been denied the affection I’d craved for so long that I latched on like a frenzied barnacle?
My phone beeped again, and I groaned, grabbing it from the end table and opening my text messages.
Mina:I did it!
Mina:GIF of dancing pineapples
Me:Did what, babe?
Mina:I put in for a sabbatical from the office and booked an Alaskan cruise. This is happening! No more regrets and no more waiting!
Me:GIF of fireworks
Me:That’s amazing! All that’s left now is to meet a stunning Englishman and fall madly in love.
Mina:We’ll revisit that when I go across the pond. Now? Mimosas! Waffles! Bloody Marys! Brunch is calling, and you’ve answered.
Me:No arguments here.
Mina:Page’s Okra Grill at 11?
Me:Great choice! See you there.
I checked the clock and groaned. Although I had plenty of time to make myself presentable, I wasn’t ready to leave the warmth of my bed. Giving myself twenty more minutes, I put my phone back on the nightstand and closed my eyes, happy to replay the memories of last night for a little longer.
“There you are,”Mina said, waving from a booth tucked into a corner by the bar. “I ordered a mimosa flight and need help deciding which one is the best.”
“Then I got here right on time.” I leaned in and gave Mina a one-armed hug before sliding onto the opposite side and taking the mimosa from her outstretched hand.
“This one is mango and pineapple. I’m not sure if I like it.”
