Those two words were a punch to the gut that I wasn’t expecting.
Maverick Fox was standing in my barn, looking at me. Studying me. Scrutinizing me.
And for the life of me, I couldn’t look away.I just stared at him like an idiot while my mind tried to reconcile the man standing in my barn with the memory of a man I quietly held onto.
Time had changed him in a way that made him both rough and soft around the edges, wild yet calm. His dark hair was outgrown, curling around his ears and brushing along the collar of his worn red jacket, while his dark beard had grown in thicker. He was broader than I remembered, muscles filling out his arms, shoulders, and chest. Even his stance was stronger, tall and proud, like he owned the space he took up.
Those same stormy eyes met mine, and there was something in his expression that I couldn’t quite name. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly—not a full smile, not really—but something else. Something that looked suspiciously like amusement. It was almost as if the absurdity of this exact moment amused him.
For as entertained as he was, I wasn’t. I didn’t want him to think I’d intentionally orchestrated this.
“I’m sorry. I was unaware that you worked forTorque & Timber,” I began, needing to fill the stretching silence between us. “I will contact your boss and pay for your time, but you can go. I’ll find someone else to do the job.”
There.
Done and done.
It was the right and respectful thing to do. Not waiting to see if he’d reply, I walked out. Something uncomfortable weaseled through my chest, but I pushed it down.
“Or,” Maverick called after me, and I stopped out of sight of the door. “I could walk you through my initial thoughts to make sure you don’t get taken advantage of if you go with someone else.”
I drew in a deep breath and stared up at the sky.Oh, karma, how she hated me.I had planned to make it my mission to avoid him, and the universe delivered him right to me.
I counted to five to calm the rush of uncontrolled anxiety. I could do this. It was just a conversation. Not an apology. Nota fight. Not a public execution. I could handle a conversation about a barn that needed fixing.
“All right,” I said. I walked right back into the garage, where he stood with his hands in his pockets. That easy smile grew, making my stomach twist. “What am I looking at?”
“I ownTorque & Timber,” he told me instead. “We don’t charge for project assessments.”
“Oh.” I wasn’t expecting that—the part where he owned his own business. “Congratulations.”
“I don’t normally do farm work because farmers tend to wait until the very last minute to fix shit, and that makes my job harder,” Maverick continued. “But I think the previous owners did a decent job keeping up the place. The outside will need more work than the inside, but that’s mostly cosmetic as is.”
“Okay,” I replied. That was good. To be honest, I didn’t know anything about owning a barn. “I haven’t decided if I’m keeping it or tearing it down.”
I genuinely had no desire to own farm animals, which made the barn useless. The only thing stored in the barn was the riding lawn mower, but I could easily buy a shed to put near the house for that. It’d make my life easier.
But there was that little thought ofwhat-ifin the back of my head.
What if we got farm animals?
What if I turned it into something for Aria and her friends as she grew?
Or maybe I could make it a family project with her, something we could decorate and build together.
“I mean, both are options.” Maverick shrugged. “It just depends on what you’re looking to do with the space. Let me walk you through the options.”
For the next half hour, I followed him around the inside and outside of the barn. He talked me through every little thing he’dalready noticed and a handful of new things along the way. The outside needed more work than the inside, but even that wasn’t awful.
And Maverick… he was so damn professional that it was jarring. Unexpected emotions nudged their way to the surface—things I swallowed because there was a time and place to deal with everything. This right here, right now? This wasn’t a therapy session, and he wasn’t my therapist. It wasn’t my place to put those feelings on him.
So, I kept things professional. I answered questions when he had them, but mostly I just listened. I kept my distance and remained silent while he wrote up an estimate for me on the work to be done. He even wrote down the name of someone who could tear the whole thing down for me, if I wanted, along with the name of someone who could help with landscaping, if I wanted.
But by the time he handed over the estimate, I wouldn’t need the phone numbers. I would need his help because I could picture a bar filled with twinkle lights and purple chaos.
“I know you said you don’t do farm work,” I said as I took it. “Would you have a recommendation for someone who could do the job?”
“I’ll do it,” Maverick replied, making me frown slightly. “It’s not that much work. I can have it done in no time.”
