by Laura Pavlov
“Well, thanks for explaining. I’m glad we’ve put it behind us. We are going to be Jojo’s godparents after all, so it’s best we don’t hate each other.”
“Agreed.” He tipped his head back to see the sun as it dipped below the distant horizon. The water lapped against the shore and made for a perfect night out on the boat.
“So you never did tell me if you opened the brothel when I was gone. I’m sure Brittney couldn’t wait to come back over.” Nervous energy radiated from her as she leaned into him and waited for a response. He didn’t understand what was happening between them. Her anxiety over him being with other women was as crazy as his reasons for not being with other women since the day she arrived.
“Nah. I hung with Jackson. We took the boat out.”
“Really? You’re completely blowing your reputation as a manwhore, you know,” she said, her voice borderline giddy.
“I guess I am.” He chuckled. “What about you? I hear the Count is trying to get you to take him back?”
“Yeah. I had coffee with him before I left the city. He wants a second chance. I told him I think we’re better as friends. He called this morning and asked me to come back next weekend to attend some gala with him. As friends.”
His entire body tensed. He didn’t want her to go back to attend jack shit with Count Asshat. He didn’t like the guy. He had his chance and he blew it. He didn’t deserve her.
“Do you want to get back together with him?” He tried to hide his agitation from his tone. He didn’t even know if he wanted to hear the answer. He couldn’t stand the idea of her being with someone else. But what the fuck did it even mean? They were friends. So basically, he couldn’t have her, and he didn’t want anyone else to either. Who’s the asshat now?
“I don’t know what I want.”
“Bullshit. You know what you want more than anyone I know. Is he the guy?”
“I don’t think so. I feel like I’d know, right?” She paused and leaned forward to take a sip of water. “Obviously, I like dressing up, and I enjoy fancy parties.” She hesitated, as if she were holding something back.
“What? Trust your gut.”
“I feel like I’m a showpiece for him sometimes. But I could just be ultra-sensitive to it. My mama never saw me as more than a pageant queen. Not someone who enjoys art and running and school. She never saw me. I don’t think Edward does, either.” She paused to look up at the sky.
“You shouldn’t settle for anyone who doesn’t see you for who you are. You’re fucking awesome, Peaches,” he said, wanting to hear more. He understood it. Hell, most people didn’t see much more than a football player when they looked at him.
“I think my college boyfriend, Will, sort of treated me the same. He loved telling people I was Miss Savannah. He never took an interest in my schoolwork, the design projects I took on, the fact I was tired of doing pageants. He didn’t see me. He saw what he wanted me to be. He said I embarrassed him when I lost the Miss Georgia pageant. He didn’t console me or take my feelings into consideration. I think Edward may fall into the same category in some ways, so I’m hesitant. Go figure, I seem to date men who treat me the way my mama does,” she said.
“There’s so much more to you though, Peaches. I mean, you’re a mad woman when it comes to working out. I had no idea you were so tough. You’re an awesome friend, loyal as shit. Your design skills are off the chart. You have a vision, and you know how to bring it to life. You have a great work ethic. I think you’re going to have a very successful career. You are so fucking talented. I see you in all your beautiful, ferocious glory.”
A smile spread across her gorgeous face. “Thanks. I have some pretty big career aspirations. I’ve only shared them with my dad, Dani, and Peyt.”
“Are you teasing me, or are you going to tell me?” He loved the way she stretched out and leaned her back against his chest, her head nuzzled in his neck. Her knees bent, and her feet rested on the bench. She fit there perfectly. Almost like she belonged there. Their comfort with one another had grown into something he’d never experienced with anyone.
“Someday I want to have my own firm. Be my own boss. Build something I can be proud of,” she said the words so softly he dipped his head down closer to hear her.
“I think it’s a great plan. If anyone can do it, my money’s on you.”
“Thanks. That actually means a lot.”
She sat forward and turned to look at him, sinking her teeth into her plump pink lip once again. His gaze locked with hers and his hand acted on its own recourse when his thumb traced over her bottom lip and released it from her teeth.
“You can’t do that, Peaches.”
“Can’t do what?” Her words were breathy and sexy as hell.
“Make me want things I can’t have.” He wanted to take her bottom lip between his teeth and tug it free. Kiss her senseless. Taste her. Brush his fingers across her silky skin.
“Do you?” she whispered.
“Do I what?”
“Want things you can’t have?” Her stare locked with his and her arms wrapped around her chest for warmth. Little goose bumps spread across her bare skin.
He pulled her close against his body, hugging her in his arms. Her back to his chest. Looking at her was not a good idea. “A whole lot, lately.”
“Me too.” She peeked up at him, before tucking her head beneath his chin again. He’d wondered if she felt the strong pull between them the way he did. But knowing she wanted him too—it sure as shit didn’t make things any easier.
Wanting and needing were two different beasts.
He wanted Elle Fiore.
But he needed football.
Chapter Eleven
Elle’s Tip of the Day
Mess with the people I care about and I’ll smack the stupid out of you!
Pete walked them outside to their table and leaned forward, his voice low. “Listen, Mav, I don’t know how long I can keep Roth around. He’s quite possibly the worst server I’ve ever had. Customers keep complaining about the guy.”
Her gaze moved back and forth between the two men. She and Maverick ate here often, and she’d never seen Pete so frazzled. Why would he discuss Roth’s poor service with Maverick?
“He’s not costing you anything, can’t you find a different position for him?” Maverick asked.
“All right, let me see what I can come up with. I’ll never understand why you help the guy so much,” Pete said, before hurrying off to greet a couple as they walked through the door.
She watched him with an impatient gaze. “I’m waiting.”
“For?”
Sometimes his cocky attitude bugged the hell out of her. He knew exactly what she was waiting for. “Why do you want Pete to keep Roth employed? And why did you say it doesn’t cost him anything for Roth to work here?”
“I cover Roth’s paychecks, and I need Pete to keep him employed because no one else will.”
Falling back against her seat, she let out a long sigh. “You know, Wallace, I’m always sharing every detail of my life with you, but sometimes it feels like I’m pulling teeth to get you to tell me anything. This is not how friendship works. Have you ever heard the term, two-way street?”
He laughed. “I just told you what you wanted to know.”
“Okaaaaay. So why in the world are you payin’ for his employment? It. Makes. No. Sense.”
She was in a foul mood. Their relationship confused her. They had somehow become the best of friends with a burning attraction neither would act on. He made her all squirmy and uncomfortable. Add this to her epic fail in the kitchen with Mabel last night. She set poor Mimi’s oven on fire and then burned a hole through one of the pie tins by accidentally turning on the burner on the stove top. She didn’t have the energy to drag every bit of information out of this complex man today. Could he not throw her a bone now and again?
He seemed hesitant but finally spoke. “Fuck it. I cover his pay because the guy can’t get a job anywhere. Y
ou know he’s an asshole. I convinced Pete to hire him as a favor to me.”
“Because?” Sweet baby Jesus, this man liked to make things difficult. “Spit it out already.”
“I told you his mom was my favorite teacher, right?” He avoided her gaze and fiddled with his napkin. He was nervous. Almost vulnerable. Maverick Wallace was many things, but nervous and vulnerable were not the norm.
“Why was she your favorite teacher? You didn’t sleep with her, did you?” she said, trying to lighten the mood. His face fell, and she immediately regretted her words. “Kidding, Wallace.”
“Mrs. Jones was my favorite teacher because she believed in me. I have a learning disability. It’s not my favorite thing to talk about. She was the first teacher who didn’t get frustrated with me. She stayed after school to help and encouraged my parents to get me tested to find out why I struggled so much.”
A dull ache settled in her chest. This big strong man was human like the rest of us. No one would look at Maverick Wallace and think he ever had a day where he wasn’t on top of the world. Here he was trusting her with something he obviously didn’t like to talk about.
“What did you find out when you got tested?”
“I’m dyslexic. School wasn’t easy. Between my parents and Mrs. Jones, and a shit ton of hard work, I made it through. Thankfully, I found football in middle school, and it became my focus, built my confidence.”
“Wow. She was the teacher who affected your life the most, and you show your appreciation by helping her son,” she said.
“Something like that. After she passed away, Roth spiraled. She was a single mom, and he didn’t have anyone else. The guy doesn’t have many friends. Obviously, his charming personality doesn’t help.” He chuckled.
She took in the amazing man across from her. She’d underestimated him.
“What?” The corners of his mouth quirked up.
“You’re full of surprises, Wallace.”
She thought about the things Roth said to him the many times they’d come to Pete’s. He taunted him about his football skills, which she’d laughed off as ridiculous. But she remembered a few comments about him not being able to learn the playbook or understand the scoreboard. The little shit was referring to Maverick’s dyslexia. Her anger was unexplainable. She wanted to give Roth a tongue lashing.
“I can see your wheels turning, Peaches. Roth doesn’t bother me. His mother was the one person in school who stood up for me, and I can thank her by helping her son.”
Such a good man. So much more to him than she ever knew.
The sloth approached the table with a friendly greeting for her, but she simply nodded. She needed a moment to process things. They ordered food and Roth made a snide remark about Maverick always ordering the same thing on the menu as Elle because he didn’t want to take the time to see what else they had. Was it a dig about reading the menu?
Breathe. Calm down. The need to protect this man was startling.
“I can fight my own battles, Peaches,” he said after Roth walked away.
“I’m aware.”
“What else do you want to know? You said I don’t share enough.”
She perked up. “I just give you a lot more than you give me.”
“Okay, then. Ask away.”
She didn’t expect him to concede. She rubbed her hands together with excitement,
“Okay. Tell me about the one relationship you had for six months.”
“Really? You want to know about Madison? It isn’t a very exciting story.” He popped another peanut in his mouth.
“Try me.”
“Hmmm, met her in a bar the summer before my junior year of college.”
“And she knocked you on your ass, so you pursued her?” she said, curiosity getting the best of her.
“Nope. We had a one-night stand, and she was persistent as hell. We hooked up a few more times. The girl showed up everywhere I went. Should have recognized her eagerness as odd. But I liked her enough, so I gave it a shot. But nothing I did was enough. She wanted to spend every minute together. Didn’t understand I had class and practice. I don’t do sleepovers, so every day was a fight. Eventually the relationship crashed and burned,” he said, as if this were all a common occurrence.
“I don’t know where to start. It sounds like you dated your stalker.” Her jaw hung wide open.
“I haven’t even told you how I found her in my apartment after we broke up. She smashed a window to get in. I found her in the bathroom poking holes in my condoms.”
Elle rested her forehead on the table. This made her relationships seem tame. He dated his stalker, so obviously she wasn’t going to take the breakup well.
“I have a question.”
“Shocker.”
“Well, first, good job on the condoms. I’m glad you practice safe sex. What’s with no sleepovers? You never spend the night with a woman? You give manwhore a new name. You can’t even stand being in the bed with them for a few hours after the dirty deed?”
He ran a hand over his face. “Will you please stop calling me that? Have you even seen me with a woman since you’ve been here?”
“Touché. I’ll drop the manwhore handle. But what’s with no sleepovers?”
“Jesus. I don’t do them. Never have.”
“That’s your answer? I don’t do them. It’s not open for discussion? What woman is going to be okay with that explanation?” She rolled her eyes.
“You underestimate my flaming baton.”
She flushed at the mention of his—baton. The man was so sexy and full of innuendos. It was hard to stay focused. Something was up with his no sleepover rule. Maverick was a sweet guy. Always hugging her and touching her. He was warm. Thoughtful. Something didn’t add up.
“I don’t want to talk about your flaming baton, Wallace. Remember, I know what happens when a baton goes up in flames. It takes everyone down with it.”
He laughed and shook his head, but she actually wasn’t kidding.
Roth approached the table and set down both plates.
“I thought I ordered this without cheese and mustard?” Maverick said, and he’d be correct. He specifically said to hold the cheese and mustard, as he did every single time he ordered a burger.
“Did you read the menu? It’s how the hamburger comes? Or you still can’t read?” Roth the sloth must have a death wish because she was on her feet and in his face before she could process what was happening.
“You better give your heart to Jesus, Roth Jones, cause your butt is mine,” she shouted and waved her arms wildly.
He stepped back with surprise. “Sorry, I was kidding, Elle.”
“Don’t you ever kid with him again, do you hear me? You have no idea how much he’s done for you.” She pointed her finger in his face.
“Peaches, sit down.” Maverick’s voice remained calm and cool.
She didn’t care. Here he was paying Roth’s paycheck, and the guy was a total ass to him. She wasn’t having it.
“I didn’t mean nothin’ by it. I thought you got all that stuff fixed when you worked with my mom,” Roth said, his voice cracked a bit when he spoke.
“It’s all good, buddy. She gets a little defensive.”
“You thought he got all that stuff fixed? Are you kidding me? How dare you make light of it. Let’s call a spade a shovel, okay, Roth?” She glared.
“Okay? I don’t know what that means.”
“It means, you best change your attitude. You don’t just fix a learning disability, you work your ass off, all the while dealing with people like you who don’t understand how hard it is. This guy is the best friend you’ve got, so you best rethink how you treat him.”
Maverick chuckled. “I think he gets it. Please sit down and eat.”
“Are you and me good, Elle?” Roth said, his gaze full of concern.
Did the guy not get it? He should be apologizing to Maverick, for God’s sake. Not to her.
“You’re apologizing to the wrong
damn person, Roth. Of course, we’re fine. Just watch your P’s and Q’s, got it?” She took a bite of her salad in a huff.
“Sorry, Maverick,” he said, moving quicker than she’d ever seen before. He was off the patio and back in the dining room before she set her fork down.
“You’re like half Southern belle, half fucking gangster, Peaches. But you do realize I don’t have an issue with Roth.”
“Well then, it’s a good thing you have me looking out for you.”
****
Howling and barking woke her. Daisy? She nearly fell out of bed, scrambled for her phone on the nightstand, and pushed the hair away from her face to see the time. It was two o’clock in the morning. What in the Sam Hill was going on?
Loud, relentless scratching at the door followed by more loud barks.
She tripped as she rushed down the hall to the front door. Daisy ran in frantic circles on the porch. Elle tried to get her to come inside, but the dog wouldn’t budge. She grabbed her phone and tried to call Maverick, but he didn’t pick up. Daisy started howling. Elle put on her robe and some flipflops and followed Daisy toward the main house.
“What’s going on, Daisy?” she whisper-shouted.
The dog ran forward, turning back every few strides to make sure she followed. Once at the front door, she rang the bell and peered through the windows, but there was no movement. She couldn’t call because she set her damn phone down when she grabbed her robe.
What the frick was she supposed to do? She could crawl through the doggy door. Daisy continued to bark and run from the front door to the garage. Elle hurried to the garage when she spotted the keypad. She remembered he’d given her the code the first day she arrived, but she’d never used it. She quickly typed in the numbers and hit enter. Daisy followed her inside and she heard Maverick screaming for help.
Her heart raced, pounded so loud she thought it might burst from her chest. Daisy stopped barking and ran inside ahead of her. More shouting. He was fighting with someone. Adrenaline kicked in, and she moved swiftly to the kitchen, grabbed whatever she could find to use as a weapon.
