“Thank goodness. But it still feels like I just stepped off the battlefield.”
He stepped closer, reaching toward me before shaking his head and dropping his hands to his side. “You didn’t just win your case, Summer. You protected what mattered. That’s who you are. That’s why—” He hesitated, voice low but steady as his gaze stayed on mine. “That’s why I came. I couldn’t stand not being here with you.”
My throat burned and I didn’t fight the swell of emotions threatening to spill over.
“Even after what I said?” I exhaled, curling into myself and wanting nothing more than to disappear.
“Especially after what you said. It may have been harsh, but it was the truth, and something I needed to hear.”
Without thinking, I stepped into his space, wrapping my arms around his waist and burying my head against his chest. His breath hitched, but his hands stayed by his side. I waited, holding him tight and silently hoping he’d choose me. Choose us.
One breath turned into two, and then three. By the fourth, I wondered if he’d only shown up because he didn’t want to go back on his word, and not because of how he felt about us. When I exhaled for the fifth time, my arms loosened and I closed my eyes, keeping my face pressed to his chest—wanting to remember his scent and feel before breaking away.
As my fingers skimmed his side, trailing down his body before letting go, he grasped them, wrapping them back around his waist before tugging me closer. One hand cupped my head while the other settled on my back, rubbing soothing circles. We stood there, in the middle of the sidewalk, grasping each other like we were the only two people left on the planet.
Dad cleared his throat, and I lifted my head from Maverick’s chest, blushing as I looked at my father. He winked, silently giving me the approval he never had with Trey.
“Why don’t we take a raincheck for lunch.”
“Oh, Dad. There’s no reason for that,” I said, taking one step away from Maverick, but keeping our hands intertwined.
“That’s all right, sir. It wasn’t my intention to interrupt your lunch date.”
“Nonsense. I’m glad you’re here. This way I won’t be stuck eating a salad.”
I rolled my eyes as Dad stepped up to Maverick, stretching out a hand. They shook, and Dad lightly slapped him on the back.
“You’ll be okay?” he asked, setting a hand on my shoulder. I nodded, shamelessly smiling as Dad took his keys out of his pocket and headed to his car.
The courtroom doors opened with a bang, sounding like a gunshot and making me jump. I turned to the noise, watching Trey step out into the sunlight, his face tight with fury. His fiancée followed, but he paid her no mind, and I immediately felt a pang of sympathy. He paused when he saw us, and I crowded Maverick’s space, laying my head back against his chest.
Trey’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing, quickly descending the steps and walking in the opposite direction. The passing crowd swallowed him whole as his fiancée followed with her head held high and one hand resting protectively on her stomach. I turned away, not watching them go, and not caring where they went.
As the noise of the city swirled around us, I felt untouchable. Traffic, distant horns, and footsteps sounded around us, but as Maverick’s hand stayed in mine, squeezing, I knew nothing else mattered. Sometimes victory wasn’t about what you gained, but what you refused to lose—and I refused to lose him.
Chapter 37
Rain pattered softlyagainst my kitchen window as I watched Summer, standing barefoot on the cool tile floor, preparing two cups of steaming hot chocolate in mismatched mugs. I stepped inside quietly as Malibu huffed, shaking herself off,clearly unimpressed that she had to do her business in the rain. My damp coat went on a peg outside the mudroom, and I toed my shoes off, not wanting to track in more water.
The afternoon was a blur once we left the courthouse, stopping for a late lunch and then heading back to my place. As afternoon faded into evening, we moved around one another, filling the time with gentle touches and quiet words. There was somehow too much and not enough to say, but the silence wasn’t oppressive. Instead, it was reassuring, like coming home after being away for months.
She looked content in my space, wearing one of my oversized T-shirts and joggers. The scene looked like it could have played out a thousand times before, and with astounding clarity, I knew this moment was what I wanted to strive toward. Us—together. Not loud, dramatic declarations of love, but soft devotion and unwavering loyalty.
The love was still there—stronger than anything I’d ever experienced—but that word couldn’t express all that I felt. I’d lived my life as a man of few words, never needing to talk at length when a sentence would do.
But what scared me more than the depth of my feelings for her was that, for the first time, I wanted to find those words. Wanted to share everything with her. From stories about growing up to telling her how proud I was when Miller compared me to Dad, everything became an open book I yearned to let her hold and casually flip through the pages to her heart’s content.
The faint smell of cinnamon and chocolate lingered in the air as Summer smiled, sitting down at the breakfast nook and pushing the sweet beverage toward me. Not wanting to be so far away, I tugged her up from the chair and settled her on my lap, resting my head in that perfect spot between her neck and shoulder, where her scent was the strongest, bringing with it peace and clarity.
We both knew we were at a crossroads, ready to take the next step toward our future. The seriousness weighed on me like a wet blanket, but it wasn’t uncomfortable—more like a realization that this was something we were both ready to commit to.
The rain outside grew heavier, a steady percussion on the glass as we sat together, lost in our thoughts. I lifted my head, letting my gaze linger, memorizing her face.
“When I said you’d never understand what I was going through, I was out of line.” Summer met my eyes as I spoke, searching for something within their depths. I tilted my head, watching as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, worrying the delicate skin.
“No, you weren’t. I’ll never understand the pain of losing a spouse, and it was wrong of me to make light of how you felt. It scared me, Maverick. Thinking I’ll never measure up to her. And that wasn’t even half of it.”
She shook her head before adjusting herself on my lap and wrapping her hands around the mug. Bringing the rim to her lips, she took a sip, closing her eyes and sighing.
