“Work is overrated,” he grumbled.
Ella laughed. Given the fact she was making no attempt to leave the bed, he figured it was safe to say she was all talk.
All talk.
While the sex between them was still off-the-charts amazing, Maverick’s favorite part of the last few days had been the times when they simply sat together and talked. Because this adult version of Ella was no longer holding backanything. Once she’d shared the details behind the letter and her family’s abrupt departure from Gracemont, it was as if she’d taken the cap off the bottle and everything else spilled out.
She’d given him a million details about her difficult childhood, about her years with Gigi, her job as a journalist, how she’d gotten into writing romance novels, and her current relationship with her family.
In that regard, Ella had a habit of selling herself short when it came to her mother and sister.
He’d been extremely blessed with his family. He’d spent the night with enough of his buddies growing up to know his family was probably more the exception than the rule. But Ella’s family dynamics were so far removed from his experiences, he couldn’t help but be in awe of her strength, how she’d stood up for herself against an abusive father. She’d fought tooth and nail for her right to go to college, for her career, for gaining her freedom from his oppressive ideals.
Maverick had listened to every single word, spellbound, while falling even more deeply in love.
It was apparent that there would be no mending anything between her and her father, the bridge between them long since burned. According to Ella, her dad had lost the ability to hurt her a long time ago, something that had saved her mental health and helped her grow into her own person.
The same, however, couldn’t be said for her relationships with her mother and Martha.
Maverick understood why she struggled so hard with those women. At the very heart of things, Ella was the polar opposite of them in regards to…Jesus.Everything.
Last night, she’d rattled off the list of “do not discuss” topics she followed when talking to either of the two women, and Maverick swore it was longer than his average grocery list. Politics, religion, women’s rights, Ella’s writing, Gigi’s will, Ella’s single marital status, Martha’s childrearing beliefs…and at least a dozen more topics were included.
Once she’d finished her list, Maverick made a joke, wondering what the hell theydidtalk about. Ella hadn’t laughed, as he’d intended. Instead, she agreed, telling him every visit and phone call was like tiptoeing through a minefield.
Despite their differences, however, Ella genuinely loved them, and given some of the stories she’d shared, he could tell her mom and Martha loved Ella, too. The problem was, their love was the conditional type, too often tied to their husbands’ attitudes toward Ella at any given moment.
Both women had texted several times over the past few days, and her mother had even called once. Ella hadn’t responded to any of it, claiming she wanted to keep the real world from intruding on them for as long as she could. Maverick was grateful for her efforts because he felt the same way.
They needed this time to get reacquainted, and, as far as he was concerned, the last three days had only reinforced just how fucking perfect this thing between them was.
“We’re running out of food,” she pointed out.
After that kiss in the wine cellar, Maverick’s plans for him and Ella had shifted into fast gear. With the renovations on Hideaway completed, he’d gotten busy building them a little love nest, stocking the fridge with food and the bathroom with toiletries, even going so far as to pack a suitcase of clothes because he’d fully intended to hunker down with her for as long as he could.
Maverick hated the idea of rejoining the world, even though he knew their time was running out. “We have enough food for one more day.”
Ella narrowed her eyes. “You can’t keep blowing Grayson off. If you’re serious about traveling to Idaho with me, you’re going to miss a lot more days.”
It wasn’t harvest time yet, which was a good thing. During the harvest, it was all-hands-on-deck and leaving would be impossible. They would have to make their trek across country pretty damn soon in order to avoid that.
Maverick had to begrudgingly admit she had a point about him leaving Grayson holding the bag so much. He’d called in sick yesterday, and his brother had laughed his ass off, commenting that he wasn’t sure a chafed dick counted as being sick. He told Maverick to have fun, assuring him he’d hold down the fort.
Since he’d started working at the winery full time, Maverick could count on one hand the number of times he’d missed worked. Mainly because he was a healthy guy and because he loved the work he did. He didn’t even consider it a job. It was more like a calling. And ever since graduating high school, the winery had been his true love, the one thing he’d put his heart and soul into.
Now, however, that top spot had been claimed by Ella. Dad had instilled a strong work ethic in all his sons, but he’d also preached about the importance of family. Dad insisted there was nothing more important, not even work. Maverick had never tested that theory until right now.
“I’ll text him.” Reaching over, he grabbed his phone from the nightstand.
Gonna be late. Very late.
Grayson’s reply was almost immediate.
Is very late code for tomorrow?
Maverick grinned, amused. He and his brother spoke the same language—sarcasm—and it worked well for them. Annnnd since his brother had opened the door to another “sick day,” Maverick decided to walk through it. Wild horses couldn’t pull him out of this bed. Not when Ella was looking so gorgeously rumpled and well-sexed.
Probably.
