“I just didn’t want you to feel guilt-tripped into anything.”
“Trust me, Summer. I’m not one to do anything unless I’ve truly thought about it. After I was widowed—”
He took a breath and closed his eyes. I was gripping his hand halfway out of my chair to comfort him before I realized I didn’t know how he’d react. Sitting down slowly and adjusting my dress, I waited, giving him the attention he deserved.
“After she died, all I felt was guilt. It consumed me for longer than I’ll admit. It wasn’t that I made some grand declaration that I’d never date again; more like I made up excuse after excuse not to. And I was fine with that. Fine with my life. Until you.”
I opened my mouth, but no sounds came out, so I shook my head and widened my eyes as his hand squeezed mine. It fit so easily, making me whimper, barely loud enough for him to hear, but he did, leaning closer as his voice softened.
“Now, I’m looking for excuses to catch a glimpse of you. Helping Mom with the pups and fixing things around your dad’shouse that work perfectly fine. I know I’m not some big catch. With my age and baggage, it’s—”
“Don’t sell yourself short,” I said, squeezing his hand harder than I meant to. “You own a thriving business that makes beautiful designs. Your mom showed me the fixtures you installed in her bathroom and kitchen. They are truly one of a kind. Aside from that, you’re handsome, kind, have a wonderful family, and a super cute dog. Need I go on?”
He shook his head and tried to pull his hand away, but I kept hold. As someone who had been conditioned to always second-guess a compliment, I understood his trepidation.
By the end of my rant, I knew my voice had taken on a patronizing tone, and my cheeks flushed crimson. It wasn’t something I did consciously, and another bubble of anxiety rose to the surface as I remembered how much this used to annoy Trey. But this man wasn’t my ex. Not at all. He was a snarky man of few words who commanded the room with his presence and exuded a quiet confidence. A man who had his full attention on me.
“You’re some kind of woman, Summer. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone so quick to defend me. And that just proves my point that what I feel for you couldn’t be sated in a single night.”
“I’m glad you think so,” I said, letting go of his hand and wrapping my fingers around the stem of my wineglass. I finished the last drops as Maverick motioned to the bottle, but I shook my head. “And I agree. I’d like to take a chance on this. On us.”
“So, where do we go from here?” he asked, running his hand along the edge of his shirt collar.
“Honestly? Well, I appreciate you bringing me here. Truly, I do. But this fancy place isn’t me and isn’t something I need. How about we go get some spicy tacos from the Cachita’s Kitchen food truck and take Malibu for a walk or something?”
“Are you sure? You wouldn’t rather split some cuisses de grenouilles? Frog legs are supposed to be a delicacy. I think.”
“If you really want to stay here and split those, I’m your girl. And I’m sure I’ll enjoy the fancy food… But I promise I’d be just as happy with a spicy chicken sandwich and good conversation.”
“Far be it for me to argue with a beautiful woman. Could I tempt you into sharing a cookies and cream milkshake?”
“Now, you’re speaking my language,” I said, laying the black linen napkin on the table.
Maverick stood and reached for my hand, helping me from the table and leaning close to press his lips to my cheek. “Head to the front. I’ll take care of the bill and then get you that spicy chicken sandwich, baby.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
Chapter 28
The air wasthick with the smell of damp grass and jasmine as Maverick walked around to the passenger side of his truck and opened the door for me. The low thrum of cricketsand the rustle of an evening breeze against the trees drew my gaze to the secluded landscape around his house. It all came together to make me feel like I’d stepped into a world where charm and contentment lingered in the cool air.
A wide porch wrapped around the front of his home, its columns strung with soft, amber string lights that flickered gently. He reached for my hand and squeezed, helping me step out and moving us toward the front steps.
My heart beat wildly with anticipation and something I couldn’t put words to. There was a steady thump beneath my sternum. Not pain, just a flutter or a hum of anticipation. I shifted slightly and caught him doing the same as his stance subtly adjusted, like something in his soul wouldn’t settle.
This moment felt like a turning point, the catalyst for everything that happened next. But what was that supposed to be? Another night of mind-blowing sex and then sneaking back home and hoping Dad didn’t catch me?
Nope.
This was more. It had to be.
Manicured flower beds lined the curved path from the driveway to the porch, blooming with gardenias, while low, discreet landscape lights cast a gentle upward glow into the blossoms, creating a play of shadows on the petals and leaves. A towering live oak anchored the left side of the yard, its broad canopy lit from beneath to highlight the sweeping branches and Spanish moss as they caught bits of moonlight.
The scent of jasmine grew stronger as we walked up the porch stairs. It was quiet—peaceful, but never still. This place felt lived in, loved, and waiting to welcome someone home. We didn’t speak or look at one another, but as I followed him onto the porch and slipped past him to go inside, I could have sworn he leaned closer and breathed me in.
The silence stretched between us as he followed me into the darkened space, tossing his keys onto a table in the front hall before switching on a light. Warm white light bathed the open space in his entryway, and I knew even before focusing on the fixture above me that Maverick had created it.
Suddenly, I was painfully aware of just how close he was standing. I could feel his warmth, smell the subtle undertones of his scent beneath his cologne. I blinked. Why did he have to smell so good?
