Tears pricked in my eyes. I hadn’t wanted Charlie to know about me being pregnant, but I’m glad she’d found out anyway. It felt nice to be seen. To be understood. To have someone in a similar boat—well, minus the bullshit drama. It felt nice not to be so alone.
“Thank you,” I said, offering her a soft, genuine smile.
She bumped shoulders with me, a warm grin lighting up her face. “You’re welcome. Also…totally not pressuring you at all, but it would be pretty cool to get to raise babies with you.”
I snorted, rolling my eyes, but my smile pulled wider. The idea was intriguing. But fear still rode my thought process right now. “Need help with decoration duty?” I asked.
She nodded, understanding the need for a distraction. “Boy, do I ever.”
She stood up, grabbing my arm and hauling me up after her before launching into a tirade of all the things we needed to get done. I welcomed the distraction with open arms. It gave me something to do other than worry. Because as comforting as this little chat had been, it also filled me with concern.
Concern about what decision I would make.
Now, more than ever, I didn’t know what to do.
Maverick and I pulledinto the roundabout before Cash’s house. He glanced over at me, his gaze blocked by his sunglasses.
“You sure you wanna do this? We can go back home. I don’t mind.”
I appreciated the concern, but honestly, the distraction of this party would be a welcome reprieve from the shift that forged between us since he’d gotten back from church.
Sure, he was courteous, and kind, and caring as ever, making sure to tend to my every need, but he hadn’t touched me since he’d gotten back. And if I’d learned one thing about Maverick Holstrom since moving in with him, it was that touch was his love language—a brush of our fingers, shoulder nudges, chin tilts and warm embraces, hell, even a forehead kisses. But since he’d gotten home…nothing. I’d never thought myself one who craved or even needed physical touch. But it’s like he had magic in those fingertips. Every inch of me longed to reach out and touch him, but I didn’t.
Something had changed between us. That much was clear.
I thought of Charlie’s words.“Talk to him.”
But sometimes actions spoke louder than words…especially with Maverick.
And not gonna lie, I was afraid to. Afraid of finding out exactly what he thought of this situation. What he thought of me. Would he regret sleeping with me? Would he want me to leave? Would he want to end things romantically?
I wasn’t ready to hear those answers yet. So instead of asking him, I braved a smile, hoping, praying he didn’t press any further as I said, “I’m sure, Maverick. Thank you, though.”
Something flickered in his eyes. A flash of emotion there and gone so quickly I couldn’t place it. But I felt it like a crack forming between the two of us. Making that shift, that chasm wider.
And I didn’t know what to do to stop it.
Chapter thirty-two
Cowboys Ride Away
Maverick
“Maverick.”
I’d grown used to her calling me Mav or cowboy in casual conversation, so when she used my name like that…it felt odd. Almost like a rift had forged between us.
She’d been closed off, guarded, unreadable since I’d gotten back from church. Understandable. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what she was going through. What she was feeling.
I didn’t want to add to her worries, her stress. As much as I longed to touch her, hold her, and offer her whatever comfort I could, I didn’t want to push. She had so much to worry about, I didn’t want her to have to worry about us either. I’d be here for her. Waiting. For as long as she needed.
Cheyenne got out of the truck before I could stop her, making a beeline for Cash’s front door. It’s like she was trying to avoid me. My chest tightened, worry burrowing deeper and deeper.
What had changed? Well, aside from the obvious. Did she not want to be with me anymore? Or worse, did she think I didn’t want her anymore? The fact she was pregnant changed nothing for how I felt about her. It might for some people, but it didn’t for me. Hell, if she changed her mind and told me she wanted to keep it, I’d be okay with that. And if she was worried what other people would say, well, I’d come up with a solution for that too.
I needed to talk to her, but not here. Not with so many people around. Tonight. Tonight, I’d talk to her.
I’d barely made it to her side before Cash opened the door, dazzling in all his star-spangled glory. His board shorts were red white and blue with a red solo cup and ping pong ball pattern. He wore no shirt, but a myriad of shiny mardi gras-styled beads in red, white, and blue. His large, polarized sunglasses even had an American flag design on their plastic frames.
