PROLOGUE
MAVERICK
In the beginning…
Ididn’t yet know how love would take me, standing on that hill among the peach trees. They were covered in thick green leaves with fallen fruit on the ground. The scent of damp earth surrounded us, fertile and pungent, and the air was thick and wet with heat.
It clung to our skin like a warm washcloth, making my hair stick to my forehead. Still, I wouldn’t be anywhere else. I wouldn’t be down at the creek with my cousins, laughing and playing in the ice-cold water, even if it would be a much-needed relief.
I’d rather be here, with her, gathering fruit for her mother’s famous homemade peach ice cream, catching the occasional breeze, watching her slim hands work.
Dove Rhodes turns to face me, and it’s like staring at thesun. My stomach dips, and I blink away, spots blinding my eyes, language escaping me.
Every year my family visits hers in north Louisiana. Every year since Mom and I joined Aunt Raven and Haddy at an International Princess Girl pageant in Atlanta.
Haddy won, Dove didn’t even place, and our moms all bonded over their shared experiences in the world of competitive beauty.
It was the start of a lifelong friendship bound together by annual visits. Our family or theirs would make the journey during summer or fall breaks. We’d spend a week telling stories, sharing meals, making s’mores, lying out under the stars. It was always family-oriented and friendly, but somehow, this year, everything has changed.
This year is different—at least for me. This year I feel like more is at stake.
Maybe it’s because I’m fifteen now, and I don’t know how many more of these trips I’ll make. Maybe it’s because I’ve finally discovered what I’m good at—playing hockey, and it makes me feel strong and confident, like I can take on anything and win.
Maybe it’s because Dove and I are here alone, which never happens.
We’ve always been surrounded by family. She’s closer friends with my cousins Haddy and Gina, and it’s always been boys versus girls in all the games.
I’ve always wanted this moment, but now, actually being here, it’s like we’re meeting for the first time. She’s so confident. She’s funny and smart and so pretty. I open my mouth to say something, and with one sweet smile, I forget all my words.
“I saw Haddy won International Princess Teen.” Shespins around on the ball of her foot to face me, the empty straw basket we’re supposed to fill bouncing on her hip.
Light illuminates her pink cheeks. They’re dusted with the faintest white fuzz, and they rise with her smile, revealing straight white teeth.
“Uh-huh” is my intelligent reply.
“She’s such a pro.” Dove turns away again, pausing at a tree and reaching straight into the thick leaves to pull down a slightly damaged fruit. “I never could get into it.”
“Yeah,” I say, searching my mind for something better than these one-word answers.
I’ve never, ever had a problem talking to people. Folks always say I’m just like my uncle Garrett, the life of the party.
My mom is equally outgoing, always friendly and welcoming to everyone. She likes to remind me we were once a family in need, and the kindness of strangers kept us together. So we should always return the favor.
For whatever reason, all that flies straight out the window when Dove is around. All I seem to be able to do is watch her with my mouth hanging open like a love-struck fool.
If I could remember how to form sentences, I would say I agree with her. Pageants are truly stupid if someone as beautiful as her didn’t even place in that one so long ago.
At the time, she said she didn’t care. She was there supporting a friend of hers, who also didn’t win anything.
Instead, I’m mute.
I follow her through the late-harvest trees, watching as she expertly finds every remaining fruit. All that’s left are the unripe ones or the ones that can’t be used.
When I reach into a tree, I only find leaves. Dove is likeone of those master athletes. Peach picking for her is easy, effortless, fun even.
Admiration expands in my chest as I watch her, and I do my best not to let my eyes linger on her hips… or the way her body sways beneath the thin cotton of her dress.
She walks with purpose, the leather strap slung over her slim shoulder. Her pale blonde hair is tied up in a messy bun with a few silky curls dancing down around her cheeks.
