There were no dishes to wash—thanks to Maverick and his aunt—so, with nothing else to do and a house to myself…well, aside from Brandy, I made my way to the bathroom to soak in the tub.
The hot water soothed my muscles, as the essential oil bath bomb and Epsom salts soothed my soul. Listening to my favorite country station on the house speakers, I closed my eyes and settled deeper into the tub.
Brandy’s toenails clicking against the tile floor in excitement were the only indicator Maverick had returned. It still amazed me how someone as strong and powerful could move so quietly.
“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” His deep voice sent shivers shuttering down my spine. I opened heavy lids to take him in. Dear Lord, he was sexy as hell in his usual getup—black on black on black.
I smiled. “You gonna join me?”
His eyes burned with want and need, his lips curving up into a sensual grin, but he shook his head and nodded at the plate in his hands. “Not yet. I made you somethin’.”
I sat up in the tub, examining what he’d brought. A cake. Probably vanilla or buttercream, maybe even cream cheese from the light frosting—my favorite. “You cannot keep spoilin’ me like this, Mav. I’m gonna end up bein’ the size of a house,” I teased, even as I gestured for him to come closer.
He obliged, much to my delight, offering me a fork as well. “You could eat a million cakes and you still wouldn’t be the size of a house.”
God, he was so perfect and sweet. I grabbed the utensil from him and looked at the cake he offered me.
“You sure you don’t want to cut me off a piece? I feel bad just diggin’ in with a fork.”
He shrugged. “I made it just for you anyways.”
One of my eyebrows quirked up. Okay, super sweet. But… “Why?”
Another shrug. “I just wanted to.”A man of many words.
I eyed him and the cake for a moment longer. “You’re sure it’s okay to just take a bite?”
“Chey, eat the damn cake.” His tone held a warm, playful note to it, but beneath that there was a layer of finality. I didn’t argue as I stuck my fork in and cut out a chunk. My heart froze mid bite as I noticed the color of the cake itself…
My chest tightened. Excitement and fear and disbelief and so many other emotions I couldn’t even begin to comprehend or explain swelling and rising in my chest like a tsunami. I swallowed the bite in my mouth. “Oh my God…”
Pink. The cake was pink.
“Is this…did you make me a gender reveal cake?” My heart beat faster than hummingbird wings.
His lips pulled up into a soft, bashful grin, his eyes holding a mixture of hope and worry in them. “I made it just in case you wanted to do it tonight…but with how the night went, I figured you wouldn’t want to make it a big deal.”
Oh my God. A girl. Both elation and fear danced along with my thumping heart in my ribcage. I was having a girl.
“Maverick…” I breathed.
I had no words. Nothing to explain just what this man’s actions did to me. Tears brewed in my eyes like summer storms, my throat tightening with emotion.
This man…this perfect, wonderful man who managed to keep the gender from me for over two weeks. Who managed to bake mea cake without me even realizing it. Who managed to give me the sweetest most intimate and meaningful gender reveal I could ever imagine…
I didn’t deserve him.
His face fell, his shoulders sagging as he placed the plate on the countertop, mistaking my inability to speak as unhappiness, no doubt. “I’m sorry. I shoulda asked before I went and did somethin’. I didn’t think you’d wanna do a big ol’ party for the reveal. I—I’m sorry.”
I shook my head, wiping the tears that slipped down my cheeks before reaching for him. “Come here,” I choked out, my voice failing me.
But actions always were easier for us.
Like a magnet, he gravitated toward me, clutching my hand in his.
“Get in,” I whispered, pleaded.
He undressed slowly. First, his cowboy hat that he placed upside down on the countertop beside the pink-filled cake. Then his long-sleeve button up and his undershirt, putting his beautiful scars on full display. He’d stopped hesitating when he bared them to me. I still couldn’t fathom why he’d be ashamed of them at all. One day, I’d make him feel comfortable enough to not wear a long-sleeve all together. But for now…baby steps.
