by Laura Pavlov
“Edward and I broke up,” she whispered.
Surprised, he watched her closely. “Today? Is that why you didn’t answer your phone or the door?”
Her tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip and it took all he had not to nip at her plump lip. He waited for an answer.
“No. We broke up while we were in France. I didn’t feel the need to advertise it,” she said with an apologetic shrug.
Interesting. She sure as hell made a choice to lie to him. Was it to keep him at a distance?
“Well, at least you won’t be the Countess Elephant. What a relief.”
“It’s obviously the reason I ended it,” she said dryly.
“I thought we were friends. Do you lie to all your friends?”
She reached up and pulled a pine needle from his hair, her fingers lingered longer than necessary before she tossed it to the side.
“We weren’t officially friends until last night, remember? Which is why I’m telling you now.”
He wanted to kiss the cocky smirk from her mouth.
“So why didn’t you respond to me all day?”
She rolled her pretty eyes. “I needed a me day. We’ve been spending a lot of time together.”
He knew their chemistry scared the shit out of her. The pull that lived between them. And it should scare her. Because if she ever wanted to act on it—he was all in. And they both knew he could never give her what she wanted.
Elle Fiore wanted a prince on a white horse. Maverick wanted her naked in his bed. Even still, desire surrounded them like a magnified force.
He turned to see headlights coming down the driveway.
“You hungry, Peaches?”
“What?” Her gaze filled with confusion, as he pushed off her and helped her to her feet.
“I ordered pizza. Delivery guy just pulled up.”
“Oh, sure. I need to take a quick shower and rinse off first.” She turned and started toward the guesthouse.
“See you in a while, friend,” he said, walking the opposite direction.
“I bet I’m the first female friend you haven’t slept with.” She moved inside and shut the door.
She was correct. At least as far as all his single female friends went. But sleeping with Elle Fiore wasn’t a good idea. Jackson warned him. Peyton warned him. Hell, even he had warning bells going off every time she was near. But damn, if he didn’t want to.
He met the delivery guy in the driveway and dropped the box on the kitchen counter. Daisy followed him to his bathroom as he reached in and turned the water on in the shower.
He’d spent ten minutes on top of the woman consuming his every fantasy. He could still feel her warm, soft skin beneath him. He needed a cold shower like a dying man in the desert needed water.
He may as well turn off the hot water heater, because he didn’t see anything but ice-cold showers as long as his designer was living next door.
Taking in the little bite marks on his shoulder as the water blasted him, he laughed. She didn’t break his skin, but damn, if she hadn’t marked him. And the crazy thing about it—he was proud of her. The girl was fierce.
The only thing more consuming than her was football. But Elle was turning his world upside down.
And that he couldn’t allow.
Chapter Seven
Elle’s Tip of the Day
Take what you’ve got and light it on fire!
The walls were down, and the refigured floor plan looked amazing. Tommy and his team worked hard to complete the demo quickly and get the new layout put in place. The floors were bare, and the kitchen and bathrooms had been gutted. The cement flooring was still covered with sawdust and remnants from the teardown. A chalky scent of drywall filled the air. The wood plank flooring had been delivered along with endless décor pieces Elle had ordered. Boxes were piled high in the center of the room.
Nothing beat a blank canvas for a designer. An opportunity to create something unique and special. The changes were already dramatic, and she and Maverick stood in the entryway and took it all in.
“Holy shit, Peaches. You were right about those walls.” His hand landed on the top of her head, gripping it like a football.
“Is there some reason you continually palm my skull every time I make a design choice you agree with?” she said with annoyance. He chuckled and removed his unusually large hand. She combed through her hair with her fingers.
“I could always tackle you again if you prefer?” He rested his hands on his narrow hips, shoulders back, and his strong broad chest on display. Proud as a peacock. He stared straight ahead at the incredible view of the lake and she took in his handsome bronzed profile. It was too difficult not to stare. A blind woman on a galloping horse couldn’t miss his gorgeousness.
The memory of him lying on top of her left her all squirmy and anxious. In his quest to prove a point about safety, he damn near gave her a glimpse of every, last dirty thought she’d ever conjured up.
Damn Maverick Wallace and his hard, masculine body. And damn his manly smell. It had become her kryptonite. The man weakened her resolve faster than a hot knife moved through butter.
“If you ever pull a stunt like that again, I swear I’ll slap you to sleep. You know, you’re awfully touchy for a Neanderthal.”
She moved toward the boxes, grabbed a pair of scissors, and opened the stack of packages. He reached for her notepad of sketches she’d drawn for the kitchen design.
“You can slap me to sleep anytime you want, Peaches. These drawings are impressive. You’re more talented than you give yourself credit.”
This was the thing about Maverick Wallace—he paid attention to detail and noticed the stuff most people didn’t. Even her mama believed Elle just shopped for pretty things for clients. Maverick treated her like an artist perfecting her craft. He was smart, and genuine, and real.
“Thank you for appreciating the work…seeing something special,” she said.
He winked and she rolled her eyes, but they both knew she didn’t mean it.
She hadn’t met a man like him in a long time. Aside from her dad and Winston, of course. Maverick saw more than a pretty little package who’d competed in more pageants than she wanted to count. He saw more than the girl who shamed her family and lost their so-called legacy. Sure, Edward had been a gentleman. Chivalrous and charming in his sleek tuxedos each time they attended formal events together. He was regal and charismatic. But he’d never taken an interest in her career, or in her personally. They’d never discussed her childhood or that she’d learned who her biological father was at eight years old, or how hard her mama had pushed her to win every pageant she entered.
Though the manwhore strode into her life on a giant jackass in lieu of a white horse—he proved to be more of a prince than she wanted to admit. He wasn’t capable of being with one woman long enough to invest in them.
****
“Are you looking forward to going home this weekend?” Maverick asked, as he settled across from her at a table at Pete’s.
“I am. It’s my dad’s birthday. I’m excited to see Peyton and Dani, and of course, baby Jojo. How will you survive without me?”
Maverick Wallace weaseled his way into her circle of trust, which she never expected. Tomorrow she’d drive back to the city and put a little distance between her and her new bestie.
“I don’t know, Peaches. Who would have guessed we’d become such good friends, huh?”
“Definitely not me,” she said. “But with me out of your hair the next couple days, think of all the ladies you can entertain at the brothel.”
“How do you know I don’t have women over now? It’s not like you sleep at the house,” he said, a frown took up residence on his face.
His demeanor changed. The man was normally all tease and charm. She’d obviously hit a nerve. But she always teased him about his lack of commitment, so why take offense now?
“I guess you’re right. I have no idea what goes on after I leave.” A tightness squeezed her chest.
Why did she care? They were friends. Nothing more.
He raised a brow and gave her a nod and Roth approached the table. They’d been to Pete’s four times in the past two weeks, and Roth was their server every time. He grew friendly with Elle, but his hostility toward Maverick hadn’t dimmed.
“Hey, Roth.”
“Hello, Elle. I see you’re still gracing this one with your presence.” He thrust his thumb in Maverick’s direction, a look of disgust on his splotchy face.
Maverick rolled his eyes. “She sure is, Roth.”
“I saw you guys running down the highway this morning. I’m surprised you can keep up with her, Wallace.” The disheveled man frowned.
“I do my best,” Maverick said, setting down his menu.
Country music trickled through the bar and the sweet smell of barbeque made her stomach rumble. The sun was going down, and golden orange hues seeped in through the windows cascading a warm light throughout the cozy room.
After the caveman, who currently sat across from her, gave her a lecture about the safety of running alone at night, he convinced her to run with him a few mornings a week. He made this big deal for her not to stress about keeping up with him. You know, because he was a professional athlete and all. She enjoyed every second of his arrogant spiel about his speed and agility, because she knew it wouldn’t be a problem.
And—it wasn’t.
Maverick Wallace was in amazing shape, no doubt about it, and his pace was quick. But Elle had been running for as long as she could remember. Running to escape expectations she could never meet. Running toward a life she hoped to find far away from Savannah. It had always been an outlet—a break from her reality. She’d challenged him the whole time. They were both drenched in sweat and gasping for air when they finished.
“I suppose you have to if you want to keep your job,” Roth said, and Maverick smiled with a nod.
Roth the sloth raised his pen to his pad. His movements so slow she grew impatient as she watched. She placed her order and waited for what seemed like a lifetime for him to scribble the words down on paper. Maverick copied her order. She wasn’t sure if he wanted the same thing, or if he just couldn’t bear to watch the man write down something different.
“He’s such a jerk to you. It doesn’t bother you?” she asked once the sloth walked away.
“Nah. He’s got issues, so if throwing a few insults at me makes him feel better, have at it.”
Instinct told her there was more to the story there, but he seemed a bit off tonight, so she didn’t push.
“I heard Jackson’s coming to see you this weekend. You guys will have fun.”
“Yep, they’re finally starting work on their lake house. He wants to see what his contractor’s got in mind. We’re going to take the boat out and hang out with a few old friends tomorrow night.”
Jackson and Peyton bought the old pizza place. Joseph, the man who raised Jackson, owned it when they were young. They decided to make it a family vacation home. The property held a ton of memories for them, not to mention it sat on a beautiful property on the water.
“You guys grew up here together, right? Were you always close?”
“Yeah. Jackson and I have been tight since we were kids. Lost touch for a while after everything went down with his sister. He shut everyone out during that time. But I found him a year or so later, and we picked up where we left off. Now that we live in the same city, it’s like it was when we were kids. I’m looking forward to them having their own place up here too.”
Jackson’s sister, Chloe, had been caught in the middle of a violent fight between their drug addict mother and her drug dealing boyfriend the summer before they all left for college. Chloe lost her life in a horrific way, and it took Jackson nearly a decade to move forward with his own life.
“Yeah, Peyt’s excited to get things going with the house. She can’t wait to bring Jojo up for summer breaks like she used to.”
“Man, Jackson used to count the days until summer when we were young. I remember we’d ride our bikes over to the Krofts’ house, and wait for Peyton to arrive,” he said with a laugh.
“They were destined to be together, huh?”
“I think so.”
Roth set their food down, and they dug in.
“You don’t think you’re destined to meet your soulmate?” Curiosity got the best of her.
He thought about it before speaking. “I guess I found mine already.”
“You did?”
“I found it on the field. Football is my center. Guess everyone’s fairy-tale is different, Peaches.”
Football was his fairy-tale? As in, his soulmate? Was he serious? He sure believed so and he was happy as a pig in poop about it.
“Interesting. So, since you play football you can’t have a relationship? Do all football players feel the same way?” She took a bite of her salad.
“No. I think everyone’s different. I have relationships. But my priority is the game. It’s my job and my passion. It’s what I do best—well, with the exception of one other thing.” He wriggled his eyebrows at her.
He’d just compared his football skills to his bedroom skills. If he was as good in the bedroom as everyone said he was on the field, he had reason to brag. The man was clearly talented. And oh my, did it just get hot in here? Because right now, she was hotter than a goat’s butt in a pepper patch.
“Have you ever had a girlfriend?” She wiped her sweaty hands on the napkin resting in her lap under the table.
“Of course,” he said, licking the sauce from his fingers. Elle bit down hard on her bottom lip, fighting the urge to dive across the table and take a little sample for herself.
“You’ve had a serious girlfriend?”
“Sure.”
“What’s your longest committed relationship?”
“Does it only count if I was with the same girl the whole time?”
Her head fell back in laughter. “Um, yes. It’s not a committed relationship if you’re with multiple women.”
“Says who?” He displayed his sexy smirk which continued to do crazy things to her lady parts.
“Says me and most of America.”
He smiled and dropped his napkin on his plate. “Well, then I guess about six months.”
Longer than she expected.
“You never cheated?”
He frowned. “Christ, Peaches. Do I strike you as a cheater? You seem to be confused.”
“About what?”
“There’s a difference between not wanting to be in a committed relationship, and not being capable of being in one. I’m very capable. It’s a choice. My choice. So, no. I’ve never cheated on anyone I was in a relationship with.”
So defensive.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed.”
“You know what they say about assuming…”
“I do.”
“So how about you? Let me guess. You’ve always been a relationship girl?”
“Yep, pretty much.”
“Let me hear about all your magical courtships.”
“Well, I dated James Ratcliffe, correction, his formal name is James Ratcliffe the second. We dated all through high school. Mama was thrilled because the Ratcliffe family is well-known and respected in Savannah.” She used her haughtiest voice and laughed.
“What happened to poor James and his highfalutin family?”
She closed her eyes and shook her head. “James really was the sweetest guy I’ve ever dated. He came to all my pageants and helped me practice for my talent on the weekends. He was such a gentleman too. Never tried to have sex with me either. And we dated for four years.”
He choked, spatting water across the table. “You’re shitting me right now. You dated the guy for four years during some of the horniest years of the poor bastard’s life, and he never tried to have sex with you?”
“Correct. I always believed he was protecting my virtue. But sadly, it wasn’t the case. James came out of the closet to me at
our senior prom. I think he knew I expected somethin’ to finally happen between us, so he confided in me.” The memory made her cheeks warm. She hadn’t seen it coming. She all but threw herself at the handsome boy, and the rejection had been a huge blow to her ego.
Maverick’s head fell back, and his hands hit the table as loud laughter bellowed through the restaurant. “You’re fucking serious? The dude dates what I can only guess was the hottest girl in the school for four years, and then tells you he likes dudes at your senior prom?”
“Thank you for not laughing,” she hissed, and tried to cover her smile. It did sound ridiculous.
“Had you suspected? Let me guess, you thought he was your prince?” he said.
“Well, we were nominated prom king and queen earlier in the evening, so it sure seemed like a fairy-tale. I mean, aside from the fact my prince wasn’t heterosexual, it could have been magical. We really were the best of friends. Still are very close. I took it hard at first, but we eventually got past it.”
“You sure are full of surprises, Peaches. So, four years is your longest relationship, yeah? And there was no sex involved. Fascinating. I’ve had four-hour relationships that involved sex.”
She rolled her eyes. “Nope. I dated Will Sanders all through college and another year after we graduated. It lasted a whole five years.”
She wasn’t proud of this relationship. Will Sanders was a snake in the grass. The worst kind of all.
“And what happened with our dear Will? Did he respect your virtue too much to sleep with you too?” he said with a grin.
She didn’t laugh. Five years of her life wasted on a guy who wasn’t worthy of a minute of her time. He took things from her she should never have given.
“He had no problem taking my virtue and promising me the world. He was an egg-suckin’ dawg. A cheater and a scoundrel. I can’t believe I stayed with him for as long as I did. Let’s just say, he was a really good liar.”
She swore she heard Maverick growl. His dark brown gaze filled with empathy. This big, rugged man was a teddy bear at heart. “He sounds like an asshole. Why’d you stay so long?”
“Great question. He was the master of manipulation. He begged and pleaded for me to stay even when I caught him in the act. He wanted to have his cake and eat it too. I had just lost the Miss Georgia Pageant, and everyone was so disappointed in me. He used it to his benefit. Probably the only time in my life I allowed insecurity to get the best of me. Not a proud moment.”
