“I’m not saying it’ll change anything between you and me. I don’t expect any of you to like me—I don’t. You have every reason not to. I just… I just needed you to know that I’m not taking advantage of him. I’m not using him or… I don’t want to hurt him. I’m not going to hurt him. I’m in this for the long haul. I mean that.”
When the words finally ran out, the quiet that followed between us was deafening. My chest rose and fell with anxious breaths, and I carefully counted backward from five in my head to calm it. Every nerve in my body buzzed with the confession that I couldn’t take back. I wasn’t sure what was worse: what I’d said or the fact that I’d said it.
“I was just going to ask if you’d like to come make a plate for your little girl,” Millie replied. “The kids usually eat at their own table. We let them play games and such while they eat in the playroom. It makes the day more special for them, like a treat.”
“Oh.”Well, that made my rant worth absolutely nothing.I pushed away from the wall and turned to follow her into the kitchen. “I can do that.”
Halfway to the kitchen, she stopped in the hall and faced me.
“For what it’s worth, I’m rooting for you two,” she told me. “But that man is as much my son as my boys are, so you won’t want to stick around if you hurt him, you hear me?”
“That’s fair.”
“I know you two have a good thing going on right now,” she continued. “Just give the rest of us a chance to catch up. We’ll get there.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I murmured. She gave me a reassuring smile—or at least what was supposed to be a reassuring smile. I hated the idea of having to jump through hoops, but I’d do it. For Maverick, I’d do anything.
CHAPTER 112
maverick
We sat around the dining table, crammed in elbow to elbow, with piles of food spread out between us. There was wine and beer—none of which bothered me. I was full of good food, relaxed with my hand on Harley’s thigh, and happy.So happy. This was what holidays were supposed to be. Loud, messy, a little chaotic, and full of all the good things. While every holiday with them had been great before, it was different with Harley here. Better.
Better in ways I hadn’t realized I was missing.
I wasn’t oblivious to the tension in the room where Harley was concerned. It wasn’t obvious, but it was there in the quiet pauses and glances that lingered. And I understood it. They were my family, and they were worried about me. Not all of them shared Roxy’s enthusiasm for Harley and me getting back together. But they were trying.
And Harley… I knew he saw it. Despite that, he held his ground. He answered all the questions they threw his way with ease and grace. There was no tension or hesitation, as if he didn’t mind handling everything they threw at him.
It was a start—a good start all around.
“So you run a business for other businesses?” Waylon asked, frowning after Harley said he ran a business consultation company.
“I do.” Harley nodded. “It’s not as simple as it sounds. Some people aren’t prepared for what it takes to run a business.”
“Amen to that,” James muttered under his breath, making me chuckle. I knew that concept all too well.
“I just step in and give them the blueprints they need to run their business more efficiently,” he explained. “I can’t make them do anything, but I analyze their data, look for weak points, and come up with options for improving their business.”
Screaming from the playroom stopped our conversation dead. It wasn’t the usual kind either—no shrieking laughter, no roughhousing. This was pure and panicked.
What the hell?
“She’s dying!” Beau shrieked as he came running into the room. “She’s dying! We didn’t do anything!”
My blood ran cold.
Harley was already moving, his chair slamming back as he bolted from the table. I was right behind him with my heartdropping straight out of my chest as my mind struggled to catch up. Something was wrong—very wrong.
The playroom was in utter chaos. Chairs knocked over. Toys scattered. The kids were crying and shouting over each other. They were frozen in place or scrambling out of the way. But none of it fully registered.
All I could see was her.
Aria was half out of the chair and leaning over the table, her body shaking. Her face—Jesus fuck—her face was swollen, blotchy, and red as it spread up from her neck. Her lips were puffy, and her eyes were barely open. Her hands gripped the edge of the table so tightly that her knuckles had gone white. She attempted to drag in broken, desperate breaths that weren’t enough.
“On the floor,” Harley said, his voice cutting through everything. He grabbed her and pulled her down, not gently but not carelessly either. He was fast and efficient, as if unaffected by everything.
She fought him, her body bucking in panic, while he lay her down flat. One leg stretched over hers to keep her from thrashing.
