I nearly rocked back at the challenge in her voice. She never fought with Bad in front of us. Behind closed doors, yes. I’d heardthe fights. But in public, they usually appeared as a unified front, for the most part.
Aunt Violet met my stare once more. “Look, I try not to get involved in you boys’ affairs—”
Bad huffed, another warning in his gravelly tone. “So, don’t.”
She ignored him, continuing on as if he said nothing. “I like Cheyenne. I really do. She’s funny, kind, beautiful.” Aunt Violet’s shoulder rose and fell in a guilty shrug. “But that girl’s as wild as the wind. She may be smooth and steady right now, but she may be gone in the next minute, leavin’ you in a cloud of dust.”
I gritted my teeth as I clenched my fists at my sides, my fingernails digging into the meaty flesh of my palms. “I know.”
“Do you?” She pegged me with a sad, yet stern stare. “Are you prepared for that very likely possibility, Maverick?”
Her words broke open the dam holding back the fears I fought so hard to keep at bay every day. They roared to the surface, breaking through the cracked infrastructure.
Of course, I knew how fragile this situation was. Of course, I knew that I could wake up one day and she’d be gone without a trace. All I could do now was hope and pray that she had enough reason to stay.
ThatIcould be enough reason to stay.
Drawing on every ounce of dwindling calm I possessed, I sucked in a breath. Returning my aunt’s stare, I made sure my voice, my words didn’t hold a shred of doubt. “I understand your fears, Aunt Violet…and I know you’re just tryin’ to look out for me. But this ismy life, my choice. I love her and that baby, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make them happy. I need you to respect my decision.”
We stared at each other in silence for a long moment. Everyone in the room looked at us to see who would break first. Aunt Violet may be strong and stubborn and fierce like the waves, but I was the cliff she crashed against—unmovable. There was no way in hell I’d break first.
She breathed deeply, her gaze softening as a chink formed in her protective armor. With a sigh, she opened her arms to me and pulled me into a hug. “My sweet boy,” she murmured as she held me.
Most of my anger melted away as I hugged her back.
She pulled away and cupped one of my cheeks as she looked up at me. With a sad smile, she whispered, “I hope she deserves you.”
But Aunt Violet had it all wrong. It wasn’t about who deserved the other more. This was a team, a partnership. We were only as strong as the other. Cheyenne and I might not have been together long, but we worked well together. We played to each other’s strengths. We made each other better.
Chapter thirty-nine
Giving Up On That
Cheyenne
The front door openedand shut, the scent of magnolias filling the air. Aunt Violet.
I turned to meet her gaze as she came to my left side. I wouldn’t say it was as hot as coals, like it had been earlier, but it definitely lacked the usual warmth I’d grown accustomed to. She sucked in a breath, no doubt readying herself for the tirade I knew was coming, so I spoke before she could.
“Look, with all due respect, Mrs. Mooney, if you’ve come out here to scold me, you can save your breath. I already know what you’re gonna say,” I said on a sigh.
I just wanted to get this over with. I was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. Hopefully everyone would leave soon so that I could soak in the tub—preferably with Maverick—and then snuggle in bed while he ran his fingers through my hair until I fell asleep. It had become almost a nightly ritual, and the thought of it now brought a sense of longing to my chest.
Aunt Violet scowled, one of her brows rising in challenge. “Oh, and what exactly do think thatis?”
I blew out a breath, letting my eyes flutter closed for a moment before replying, “You think I’m using Maverick. Taking advantage of his kindness for my own personal gain. You think I’m no better than Ashleigh.” I finally leveled her with my gaze—far calmer than I actually felt.
She pursed her lips, her head tilting to the side ever so slightly.
I nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I thought… Look, I don’t blame you for thinkin’ that. I would think the exact same thing if I were in your shoes. But believe me when I tell you, I have no plans on hurtin’ your nephew.”
She let out a sigh. “I know you have no plans to, but that don’t mean he ain’t gonna get hurt.”
I didn’t know what to say. We were at an impasse. A crossroads with a dead-end on either side. Nothing I said would change her mind. Only actions. So, I just lifted my shoulders in a shrug and said, “I’m gonna make this work with him, whether you believe it or not.”
“I hope so,” she replied softly, coming to lean against the railing beside me. Crossing her arms over her chest she continued, “I like you, Cheyenne. I really do. But I know your kind.”
“My kind?” I scoffed.
