Maverick Read online

  She appeared in his doorway, dressed the way she’d appeared the night before and Maverick’s grin was wicked as he took her in from head to toe. In that outfit, with her wild hair, bruised mouth and shiny eyes, she looked as if she’d been thoroughly fucked. It gave him a lot of pleasure knowing he was the one responsible.

  Except she didn’t seem all that happy to see him.

  Or his smile.

  “My purse?” she asked, glancing around the room.

  “Over there,” he pointed to the table beside the bed. They’d scooped it up the night before because she was the only one with a supply of condoms. Maverick made a mental note to remedy that situation next time he was in town.

  She grabbed her black bag and rooted around for her keys, walking toward the door without even glancing his way.

  “You’re leaving now?” he asked, following her out into the hall and down the stairs.

  She didn’t answer. Just nodded.

  This woman was really going to make him work.

  “Just so you know, I do count eggs and breakfast among my many skills.”

  “I’m not hungry,” she replied, reaching for the door. “But thanks.” Her back was still to him and annoyed, Maverick strode toward her, leaning against the wall beside her.

  “Hey, are we okay?” he asked carefully. Shit. He was usually the one ready to leave the next morning. In fact (and he wasn’t being an asshole or anything), he couldn’t remember the last time a woman had been so eager to leave him.

  Her red nails closed around the door handle. “Yes, Rick. We’re okay.” She glanced up at him, those pale eyes unreadable. “But let’s not make last night anything more than what it was.”

  “And it was…”

  “We had sex.”

  “Four times.”

  She tilted her face. He decided not to bring up the fact that her cheek was chafed from his stubble. He wondered what her inner thighs looked like.

  “Yes we had sex four times.” Her mouth twitched. “The blowjob was complimentary.”

  She tugged on the door and inched it open, letting in cold, fresh air.

  “I really do make a mean breakfast.”

  She toed the edge of the door with her boot, closing it enough to keep the cold air at bay. “I have to go. Connor…”

  He moved back. “Of course. I get it.” And he did, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. Guess he was a selfish bastard. He’d been looking forward to spending a lazy morning with her, sharing hot coffee and scrambled eggs.

  “Just so you know I came here last night to tell you off.” Charlie met his gaze, eyes unflinching.

  “Right. You said that.”

  “My plan wasn’t to have sex with you.”

  “No sex.”

  “No. Not even once,” she replied.

  “So I should consider myself lucky that we managed to do the deed four times?”

  “Extremely lucky.”

  “Huh. And this morning—“

  “I told you, complimentary.”

  “Got it.” Maverick paused, suddenly serious. “So when am I going to see you again?”

  Her eyes slid from his and she leaned her forehead onto the door. “I’m not sure that we should.”

  “That’s unacceptable.” Maverick inched forward and grasped her chin, pulling her toward him so that she had to look into his eyes. “Look, that was a stupid move on my part, about the dance. I’m sorry that you think I blew you off because that wasn’t my intention. I’ll admit that at first I thought it might be a mistake to get involved with someone when I’m only here for a short period of time but now…”

  “Now?”

  “I’d like to get to know you.” Surprised at his admission, Maverick faltered. “I want to see you again.”

  Something flickered in the depths of her eyes. Something that made him wonder. She extricated herself from his grasp and opened the door.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “You’ll think about it,” Maverick repeated, watching her practically run down the steps toward her beat up Chevy. Red and orange light lit up the black horizon and he shivered from the cold. Charlie navigated her way through the high snowdrifts that had made their way across the driveway the night before and paused at her truck.

  Shit was she just going to leave?

  She looked at him, a small smile touching the corners of her mouth. “Yes Rick whoever-the-hell-you-are. I’ll think about it and maybe if you’re lucky—“

  Relief rolled over him. “You mean extremely lucky.”

  She snorted at that. “Maybe if you’re extremely lucky, I might offer up another round of complimentary sex.” She opened the driver’s side door and the hinges creaked. “Maybe.”

  “I’ll be waiting,” he replied, unable to keep the grin off his face as she slid inside her truck and cranked the engine. He stood there, shivering in the cold, watching until the truck disappeared down the laneway that led from the estate to the main road. When he finally closed the door and leaned back against it, Maverick wasn’t sure what to think of this turn of events.

  Had he just been blown off? Or was there the promise of a lot more of what he’d had the night before. And if there was (and let’s be real, he was all-in for more of Charlie Samuels), he was going to have to buck up and come clean about who he was and what that meant.

  Was he willing to possibly blow Cooper’s cover? If word got out, was he willing to give up the peace he’d found out here? Would the press hound him? He scowled, thinking back to their relentless pursuit after the whole Elle thing.

  He supposed the real question was, was Charlie Samuels worth that risk?

  Chapter Ten

  Charlie made it back to her house ten minutes before Davis was supposed to bring Connor home. Eight o’clock was when her brother’s favorite cartoon started and he usually spent a lazy Sunday morning in his plush blue chair with a bowl of dried Cheerios and a glass of orange juice. She’d cut it way too close.

  Charlie rushed upstairs, stripped down to her—damn, must have left her panties at Rick’s—and pulled on her old, flannel pajamas. Her hair was a disaster so she clipped it into a loose knot on top of her head and shoved her feet into her slippers. Tossing her clothes into the laundry hamper just inside her closet, she eyed the bathroom.

  She really needed to brush her teeth and was more than a little afraid to see what she looked like. She took one step toward the bathroom but then heard a truck in her driveway. Crap. She literally flew down the stairs and was lucky she didn’t fall and break her neck. Though she stumbled over the last one, lost her slipper, and stubbed her toe on the edge of the last step. When Davis opened the door, she was rubbing her big toe and swearing like a trucker.

  “Hey now,” Davis said, following Connor inside. “Let’s keep it clean. It is Sunday after all and I don’t think the big guy upstairs would appreciate that kind of language.”

  Charlie ignored Davis and smiled at her brother. “Shark Man is on in like two minutes, buddy. Let’s get off your coat and boots.”

  Connor held out his hands and she quickly peeled away his winter coat, hat and boots and she pointed to the living room. “I’ll grab your cereal.” With a glance at Davis, she continued, “Can you help him find Shark Man? Pretty sure it’s on channel 265.”

  Without waiting, she hurried toward the kitchen, grabbed Connor’s favorite bowl and filled it with Cheerios. Next she rinsed out his Shark Man plastic cup from the dishwasher—she’d forgotten to run the damn thing the day before—and filled it up with OJ. Once she had Connor’s stuff together, she returned to the family room where her brother was already engrossed in the next adventure of Shark Man. She set his bowl and cup on the small table beside him and then took a step back.

  He was still wearing his Spiderman pajamas and his hair looked as if it hadn’t been brushed. She smiled, her heart softening, and bent forward to ruffle the top of his head. Connor jerked at her touch, shaking his head, eyes still on the TV, and
with a sigh, Charlie backed away.

  “You want coffee?” she asked Davis. She wasn’t really in the mood for company because, holy hell, everything she’d done the night before was coming back to her in vivid detail. Everything. Sweet Jesus, the things she’d let Rick do to her.

  The things she’d done to him.

  Complimentary blowjob? Who the hell said that? Especially to a guy she barely knew on what was pretty much a non-date, first date. Ugh.

  Cheeks burning, she sailed past Davis, not waiting for an answer and headed straight for the coffee machine. Once she’d scooped out enough coffee grinds for a full pot and filled the reservoir with water, she grabbed two mugs and set them onto the table.

  “What?” she said. Davis leaned against the doorframe, his blue eyes unwavering. Shit. Was that a smirk?

  “Ava said you bailed early last night.” Ava. Of course. She’d sent Charlie an insane number of text messages and didn’t stop until Charlie had texted her back, somewhere between the outbuilding and Rick’s house. The text had been curt.

  Stop or I’ll hurt you.

  “And?” Keep it cool. Simple. Nonchalant.

  “Said you left without saying goodbye and that you were in a foul mood.”

  “What are you? The dance police?” Charlie watched him warily. There was no way he could know. Was there?

  Davis shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “We just hoped that you’d have a good night is all.”

  “Yeah well, being alone at a Valentine’s Day dance is pretty pathetic and I wasn’t feeling it. Watching her and Seth—“

  “Seth Rogers?”

  “Yes, he’s the only Seth in Fisherman’s Landing, why?”

  “No reason.” Davis cocked his head to the side. “So you left.”

  She nodded, reaching for the half-brewed coffee pot. “So I left.” She filled a mug for Davis and handed it to him. “How was Connor last night?”

  “He was good. We watched the hockey game. He ate a lot of popcorn and fell asleep before it was over.”

  “There were no issues?”

  Davis took a sip from his mug, swirling the coffee around a bit before answering. “He took a shine to the piano that belonged to my mom. Started banging on the keys, but most of them are dead and the damn thing sounds like shit.”

  “Really?” Charlie asked. “The piano?” She thought back to the other day at Rick’s.

  “I’m only sorry that it’s nothing more than a hunk of junk. After he went to bed I had a look inside, thinking I could maybe do something with the hammers, but most of them are broken. I guess I should haul it out to the junkyard.” He smiled. “The little guy seemed intense about it.”

  Charlie’s throat constricted and she set her mug on the table and crossed the room, giving Davis a big hug. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “Lucky for you, you’ll never have to find out.”

  She pulled away and laughed. “One of these days Jason Davis, some woman is going to knock you on your ass and she’s going to take you away from me.”

  “I’m a townie for life. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

  She frowned. “Don’t you want more than this?”

  “Don’t you?”

  Annoyed, she frowned. “We’re not talking about me.”

  “Maybe we should be.”

  “Oh for God sake. Let’s just forget about it, all right?”

  “Fine by me,” he said, a smart-ass grin on his face. He drained his mug and handed it to her. “I’ll take another.” He moved to her fridge. “You got eggs? I’ll scramble us up something.”

  The two of them settled into a routine that they’d done many times before. After her father died, Jason had started coming around Saturday nights after work and he’d be back Sunday mornings. He’d been close to her father as well, and they’d needed each other to get through their grief.

  The sun was now up in the sky and outside her kitchen window the rays danced over the snowdrifts, sending dazzling reflections of lights into her eyes. In the distance she could see the icy Atlantic and she shivered. It was going to be another cold one. She closed the blinds a bit to cut the glare and peeled a few potatoes, some onions and green peppers. Once she was done, she handed everything over to Davis and he fried them up along with the eggs.

  She checked on Connor, but her brother was happily munching on his Cheerios, eyes glued to Shark Man, and by the time she returned to the kitchen, the food was ready. She grabbed two plates, handed them to Davis and while she topped up their coffee mugs, he readied dished out the food.

  I really do make a mean breakfast. Rick’s words slid through her mind.

  Charlie cleared her throat, because damn, she needed not to think about Rick. Or all that hot sex.

  She and Davis ate in silence for a few moments and then Charlie put down her fork, brows furrowed as she stared across the table at Davis.

  “So, Connor, was he actually trying to play the piano?”

  Davis shrugged, swallowing the last bit of his coffee. “Hard to tell. Like I said, the thing is a piece of crap and most of the hammers don’t work.” Davis cocked his head to the side. “Why?”

  “When we were looking at the Shelby the other day, Rick had a keyboard set up and Connor started playing it. Random notes, nothing more, but he’s been so closed off ever since…” she exhaled, eyes on Davis. She didn’t need to explain. “He showed some interest and I’m wondering if it’s something I need to explore. I mean, he’s got to come around, don’t you think? He can’t stay this way forever.”

  Throat tight, she couldn’t continue, so she grabbed at her toast but truthfully, her appetite had fled.

  “I think he’ll come around in his own time and that’s pretty much what all those doctors have said. You just gotta be patient, Charlie.”

  “Yeah, well, patience isn’t exactly a thing that I’m good at.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  She threw her toast at him, but Davis caught it and popped it into his mouth and they finished their breakfast in relative quiet. When they were done, she loaded the plates into the dishwasher while he cleaned up the counter.

  “You know, life would be great if the two of us were into each other.”

  “Don’t I know it,” Davis replied with a chuckle.

  She leaned against the countertop and smiled. A few years back, after one too many tequilas, he’d kissed her. And apart from the fact that she’d been with Jeremy at the time, they’d agreed that the kiss was not only a mistake, it had been plain awful.

  “Okay, so you’re good to go for tomorrow?” Davis asked. He worked Saturdays alone and she worked Mondays. That way she had the weekend with Connor and he had two days off in a row as well.

  “Yep,” she said, following him to the door. He paused then and turned to her, that smart-ass grin lighting up his face once more. “Did you by chance drive out to the McLaren place last night?”

  “Wow, that was random.” Fuckedy-fuck. “Why would you ask that?”

  He shrugged. “You don’t look like you had a quiet night is all.”

  Her hand drifted to her messy knot of hair.

  “In fact, you look like you’ve hardly slept.” He cocked his head to the side. “Or maybe that’s because your eye makeup is smudged.”

  Damn.

  “And your cheek…”

  Her hand drifted to her skin and she winced for the first time. What the hell?

  “Is it sore?” Davis asked with a wink. “Kind of looks like rug burn or I don’t know…like some guy who hasn’t shaved was up close and personal.”

  Busted.

  “Will you just stop,” she said. Dammit. Rick’s stubble had gotten her good.

  Davis chuckled and headed outside.

  “How did you know I went to see Rick?” she shouted after him.

  “I didn’t.” He didn’t bother to turn around, but then he didn’t need to. “But now I do.”
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br />   Charlie slammed the door shut and stuck out her tongue, glad that Davis couldn’t see through oak. She undid her hair clip and let her tangled waves fall around her shoulders as she wandered back into the family room.

  Shark Man was about to slay the enemy and Connor didn’t even know she was there. He looked so small and fragile with his pale skin, pale eyes, and russet curls.

  He looks just like mom.

  A wave of pain rolled over her and Charlie wrapped her arms around her midsection, trying to find some bit of comfort because suddenly the sadness inside her was almost too much to bear.

  She leaned against the wall, eyes on her vibrant red toes, and felt them well up. She thought back to Davis’ question. There was a time when she had wanted so much more than Fisherman’s Landing was ever going to give her. There was a time when she thought she’d find a life that fit. A life that was meant to be hers. She’d had it for all of two seconds, because life threw her a curveball that she hadn’t seen coming.

  Michigan Institute of Technology seemed a lifetime away and so did her dream of becoming an engineer.

  Oh god, she needed to focus. She needed to think about other things. Like the mortgage and the stack of bills on her desk.

  She had Connor. She had some kind of life. And really, that was more than a lot of folks had. It should be enough. It had to be enough.

  Didn’t it?

  Chapter Eleven

  By Wednesday Maverick couldn’t take it anymore and he sent a text message to Charlie.

  So you still thinking about it or what?

  He hit send before he had the chance to chicken out and when he glanced at the message a few moments later, he cringed. Seriously, his buddy’s twelve-year-old could compose a better text message than he could.

  With a groan he tossed his cell and ran his hands over his freshly shaven jaw. If his mother could see him now, she’d thank him. She’d always been into the clean cut, Tom Cruise types—big smiles and big bank accounts (He could thank Mr. Cruise for his name as well, Top Gun anyone?). And she’d razzed him but good the last time she’d seen him. Said it looked like a cat’s butt was stuck to his face.