by Laura Pavlov
“You mean if a girlfriend or wife of a player tried to call plays for the team?” He studied her.
“Yes, sir.” She nodded, with an oversized grin on her pretty face.
“Well, without being part of the team and knowing the players, I can’t imagine anyone would attempt to do my job for me.” He watched her curiously.
Maverick slyly tapped his foot against hers, an attempt to get her to look at him so he could figure out what her crazy ass was up to. She picked up her nude high heel and stomped on his foot, making a scene in the process. Coach coughed again, but this time to cover up his laughter at Elle’s apparent anger. What the hell was her problem? He stuck to her ridiculous sleepover schedule and hardly fought her on it all week.
She turned back to face the older man. “Agreed. It’s outrageous for someone who knows nothin’ about what you do to poke their nose where it doesn’t belong. Like a cowboy trying to ride a pig bareback in the wild, wild west. Ludicrous, right?” Her twang was on full display and Coach chuckled, only encouraging the angry little heathen to continue.
“I’ve never used this particular analogy, but I think it’s a fair comparison, yes.”
Her anger was out in the open, and clearly Maverick was the pig in this scenario. Camille must have mentioned their chat. Fuck. Elle came here to make a point, and she didn’t appear to be done making it.
“Well, thank you, Coach Romero. You’ve been married to your lovely wife for a long time now, right?”
Coach smirked, as if he were happy to assist in Maverick’s demise. “Yes, ma’am. Twenty-seven years in April.”
“How amazing. Seeing as you’re practically an expert and all, how important do you think it is to trust your partner when you’re in a relationship?” Now her gaze landed on Maverick. The sugary-sweet little Southerner was nowhere in sight. She was downright hostile. If fire shot out her ass in the next thirty seconds, he wouldn’t be surprised. He’d never seen her this angry. And considering how often he’d pissed her off over the past year, that was saying something.
“Trust is essential in any relationship,” Coach responded and nodded at Maverick with a dumbass grin.
Elle returned her attention to Coach Romero. “I couldn’t agree more. Which is why I would never go behind Maverick’s back and talk to you about how he should do his job. Only a scoundrel would do something that disrespectful.”
Jesus. Now he was a fucking scoundrel? Coach couldn’t contain his hysterics any longer. His head fell back in a fit of laughter before he pulled it together and faced Maverick.
“Yep. I think Beverly would have my balls in a sling if I went behind her back and talked to her boss. I’m a lot of things, but a scoundrel is not one of them,” Coach said, still chuckling.
Nothing like getting schooled by your five-foot nothing girlfriend in front of your coach. He wasn’t about to point out the obvious—Beverly was retired. She currently didn’t even have a boss. He had a hunch Elle would have his balls in a sling of her own if he tried to get technical with her.
“Ah, Beverly is a wise woman. Thank you so much for your time. I appreciate it.” She patted Coach on the shoulder and whipped around and stormed toward the elevator.
“Anytime, Elle. See you at practice tomorrow, Mav.” He leaned in and whispered, “Trust me. Start with an apology.”
The elevator doors shut in his face by the time he got there, and he ran to the stairs and hurried down to beat her to the ground level. When the doors opened, she marched right past him. Chin pointed up and refused to give him so much as a glance.
He chased her, as he imagined he’d be doing for the rest of his life. “Peaches, stop.”
She didn’t. Her stubborn ass stormed toward her car. He ran ahead of her and used his body to block her.
“Get out of my way, you pompous ass,” she said, loud enough for anyone within a few miles to hear. Her face flushed, hair wild, and never more beautiful.
“Peaches, come on.” He placed his hands on her shoulders gently and met her fiery gaze. “I’m sorry. I should have told you I talked to Camille.”
“Maverick Wallace, you’re actin’ crazier than an outhouse rat. You shouldn’t have talked to Camille at all. I’m not mad you didn’t tell me about the conversation. I’m mad you had the conversation at all.” She poked her finger at his chest hard.
“Now I’m the rat? What about Count Dickhead who’s having his entire building renovated so he can spend time with you? He’s the one you should be calling names. I’m the one trying to protect you. Protect us.” His anger hit a boiling point, and it was time she saw his side of this.
Her gaze softened and she stepped closer. “You don’t need to protect me or us. But you do need to tame the green-eyed monster, Maverick. If I wanted to be with Edward, I’d be with him. I’m not. I want you. Only you. I’ve never felt like this with anyone. Don’t you know how much I love you?”
He pulled her against his body. “I’m sorry, Peaches. I love you. I don’t want him around you. Don’t you understand why this is a problem for me? Would you like it if I was hanging out with Brittney every day?”
She looked up at him. “Of course not. Don’t you think it bothers me when I read comments online where women are throwin’ themselves at you? Once the season starts it will only get worse. Trust me, I understand how you feel. But you can’t go to my boss and try to control my workplace. It’s not okay. Do you remember the guy who cheated on me multiple times?” She paused and turned away for a minute.
“I’m not a cheater.”
“I know you’re not. What I’m saying is, he was a cheater. He accused me of cheating all the time. Never trusted me. I didn’t understand it at the time, but it all made sense in the end. He didn’t trust me because he wasn’t trustworthy himself. He put his guilt on me.” Her topaz gaze locked with his.
“But you can trust me.”
“Right. And you can trust me. I’m not a cheater either, Maverick. It’s not who I am. And this won’t work if we don’t trust one another.”
“Christ, Peaches. I trust you. It’s the douchebag I don’t trust.”
“What he does, doesn’t matter. It’s what we do that’s important. I’m appalled by this stunt Edward pulled. But you’re letting him win by acting on it. In the end, you’re doubting me and my loyalty to you.”
He let out a long breath and nodded. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have gone to Camille. This is all new for me, and I swear I’m trying not to fuck it up. I don’t like you working with him every day. It makes me fucking crazy.”
“I’ve been completely upfront about you and me with Edward. He knows how I feel about you. My God, my mother isn’t even speaking to me because I told her about us. Can’t you see how invested I am in this?” A single tear ran down her cheek, and his gut wrenched.
He sure as shit was the rat. And the pig. He’d behaved like a jealous asshole.
“I do trust you, Peaches. It won’t happen again. I’m sorry.” Shit. He wished they could go back to the lake and get away from all this noise.
She swiped at her cheek and smiled. “From here on out, it’s you and me, Wallace.”
“You and me. I promise.”
****
“See, this isn’t so bad, right?” She pressed her forearms on his chest and looked up at him.
He agreed to take a bath with her. Hell, he’d do whatever it took to get his ass out of the doghouse. He’d hurt her, and if soaking in a hot tub cheered her up, count him in. She’d tried to get him to join her at her house for a bath the night before in her Barbie doll-size tub, it wasn’t happening. His oversized jacuzzi tub easily fit two people with room for more. He’d never understand all the fuss over a small bathtub with no jets, the damn thing barely had room for one person—but because it had some weird shiny feet holding it up, women made a big deal of it?
“Anytime I have you pressed against me naked, it’s never bad.” He pushed the hair away from her pretty face.
“Tell m
e a secret,” she said, her voice soft. The lights were dim, and a candle burned beside the tub.
“Like what?” He remained perfectly still in the hot water. He wasn’t big on secrets. If he didn’t share something it wasn’t because it was a secret, it was because he didn’t want to talk about it.
“I don’t know. I just want to know more about you. I’ll tell you one if you tell me one.” She drew little circles on his chest with her finger. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this relaxed.
“Okay. Ladies first.”
“So chivalrous. Hmmm, let’s see. Oh. I have a good one. I stole something once. When I was eight years old. It was the one and only time I found myself on the wrong side of the law.”
He chuckled and shifted her body so he could wrap his arms around her. She fit perfectly between his legs, her chest pressed against his, and her head rested beneath his neck. “Yet I’m the scoundrel? Let’s hear it. What did you take?”
She paused for a minute and sucked in a deep breath. “It was shortly after I found out about my dad. I was so mad at Mama. But I couldn’t talk about it because she didn’t think it was my place being a kid and all. So, I never ate candy when I was a kid because Mama didn’t allow it. The woman dreamed of me being Miss Georgia from the moment I took my first steps. She said junk food was the kiss of death. Well, you know those bins with the bulk candy at the grocery store?”
“You’re not going to tell me your one time on the wrong side of the law was eating a piece of bulk candy?” His laughter echoed off the walls in the bathroom.
“I didn’t eat just a piece. Have you ever met an eight-year-old who wasn’t allowed to eat candy? Well, let’s just say one piece wasn’t enough. I went crazy. Lost my marbles. I ate so much I actually threw up in the grocery store. Right in the middle of produce. Those poor zucchinis were covered in gummies and red dye.”
She sighed, as if the confession was a load off her mind and he tried to contain his laughter. “What did your mom do?”
“Mama wasn’t there. She never went to the grocery store. I was with Clara, our housekeeper, slash nanny. She covered for me, of course. Always had my back. Mama never found out, thank goodness. But every time I go to the grocery store, I feel like I’m going to see my face on a WANTED poster, you know? So, there you go. The skeleton is out of the closet.” She lifted her head to meet his gaze and he leaned down and covered her mouth. Needed to kiss her.
She chuckled against his mouth. “You’re not getting out of telling me something, no matter how hard you try to distract me.”
Her head settled against his shoulder again, before he spoke. “I can’t help it. It’s pretty hot—you being a grocery store thief and all. I knew somewhere under the Type-A, rule following, perfectionist lived a candy snatching bandit. You don’t fool me, Peaches.”
She chuckled and flicked a little water in his face. “I’m waiting, Wallace.”
“Okay, it’s not as scandalous as your grocery store robbery.” He kissed the top of her head. “Do you remember the night we met at Jackson and Peyton’s wedding?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Well, the next morning I called Mimi. I told her I met the girl I was going to marry the night before.”
She gasped. “You’re lyin’.”
“Nope. I speak the truth, Peaches.”
“How did you know we’d be together?” she asked.
“I thought you were beautiful, obviously, couldn’t stop staring at you. But when we were introduced…”
“Yeah?” she said, just above a whisper.
“All the hair on my arms stood up. Never felt anything like it before. My dad always told me he knew with my mom right away, and I never understood it. Not until the night I met you. But it scared the shit out of me, feeling so strong about someone I didn’t even know. And then I was a dick the next night. Wanted to push you away. It tortured me every time I saw you.”
“Damn, Wallace. Your secret is so much better than mine,” she said, looking up at him.
He laughed. “Damn straight.”
“Thanks for telling me. You knocked me off my feet the night I met you, too. But then I hated you for a long time.” A grin spread across her face. “Until I realized I love you.”
“I love you too, Peaches. Am I out of the doghouse yet? Anything else you want to know while you have me by the balls?”
Her fingers intertwined with his and settled on his chest. “Do you remember your birth mom? Or your time at the orphanage before you were adopted?”
Fuck. She wanted to know things he tried to forget.
“I remember what my mom looked like. She was pretty. I have vivid memories of being alone. Scared. Can’t place where I was or why I felt the way I did, but I remember a lot of chaos and fear. Shit I don’t like to think about or wish on anyone. My mom was a prostitute, so you can paint yourself a picture of what life was like for me. Thankfully, I wasn’t old enough to fully understand what was happening. My mom lost her life to an overdose, but it most likely saved my life. The orphanage was the first time I remember feeling safe, before being adopted, of course.”
She pushed up, rested her forearms on his chest, her gaze watery and full of emotion. “What a life you’ve lived, Maverick Wallace. You beat all the odds.”
He used his thumb to wipe away a stray tear running down her cheek. “I just told you my mom was a prostitute and died of an overdose, and you act like I’m some sort of hero?”
“You’re such a good man. I want to know everything about you.” She rubbed her nose against his. The girl so sweet it made him want things he never knew he wanted.
“Everything?” he teased.
“Yep.”
“Well, if you move in with me, I’ll tell you more. We could spend all our nights in this tub if you want.”
“It’s too soon.”
“So many rules.”
“You have no idea.” Her laugh trickled around them and he closed his eyes, savoring the moment.
So peaceful.
So perfect.
So Peaches.
Chapter Nineteen
Elle’s Tip of the Day
You’ll never please egg-suckin’ dogs—but you can please yourself!
“You know you have sex hair, right?” Dani said.
Elle sat on the couch in Peyton’s office with a big grin on her face.
“Well, hells bells, it must be all the good lovin’ I had before I came to work.” She grinned and patted her hair back in place. Dani and Peyton fell back in a fit of giggles.
“Who are you and what have you done with our prim and proper bestie?” Peyton said, her tone all tease.
Elle gasped. “I’m still me.”
“Sure, but now you’re all sexed up and relaxed. You went from English Duchess to Girls Gone Wild Spring Break Edition in a few short weeks,” Dani said.
She laughed right along with them. The light coming in through Peyton’s office window highlighted the pretty space. Clean and modern. Elle named their three offices after famous women when they first started at Shine Design. She based her choices on individual office décor.
Peyton’s style—all white. White couch, white rug, white chairs, white desk, and black and white fashion prints on the walls. It screamed Victoria Beckham.
Dani had her own unique style. Classic and elegant. Dark woods, scholarly accolades decorated her walls, dark shelving, and no fluff. All business, which donned her the office name of Ruth Bader Ginsburg.
Elle preferred bright colors. The space splashed with hot pinks, bright greens, and turquoise. Her shiny white desk held colorful picture frames, fresh flowers, and pretty décor, emulating her Lilly Pulitzer dresses. Obviously, her office name was Reese Witherspoon.
“Is he still trying to convince you to move in with him?” Peyton pulled her from her thoughts, and Elle settled on the white shaggy rug in front of the couch.
“He sure is. I thought he might propose last night when I got to his place after w
ork. He dropped down on his knees after dinner, and I swear my stomach dropped. I mean, it’s too soon, right?”
“It’s not too soon if it’s right. But if he didn’t propose, what the hell was he doing down on his knees?” Dani leaned closer and Peyton scooched down to sit on the rug and pressed her elbows on the coffee table to get closer.
“The only other thing a man drops to his knees for,” Elle said, wriggling her brows, before the room erupted in a fit of giggles again.
“Amen. It’s about time men dropped to their knees for women,” Dani said, with pursed lips.
“Thank you, hashtag me too, but there’s no political agenda here. Just a man pleasing his lady,” Elle said in a singsong voice.
“I think hashtag me too should be Dani’s new nickname. It’s very fitting,” Peyton said, shaking her head and chuckling. Dani rolled her eyes at the suggestion.
“How are you feeling about your mom meeting Maverick tonight?” Dani asked.
“Well, Winston set this up, Mama and I still aren’t speaking. We are gonna mix if she takes a shot at Maverick.”
“Is he nervous about meeting her?” Peyton set her tea on the coffee table.
“He keeps telling me not to worry. He isn’t the least bit concerned. He doesn’t know who he’s dealin’ with, though. Mama can be an egg-suckin’ dawg when she’s angry. And Maverick’s family is so different. They’re always callin’ me to see how I’m doing. They’re so genuine and real. I don’t know how he’ll deal with her, ya know? I hope he doesn’t look at me differently.”
“He loves you. Hell, the man is crazy about you. Nothing is going to change that. He begs you daily to move in with him. And look how close he and your dad have gotten. He’s not going to judge you by your mom’s behavior,” Dani said.
“I know. She’s my mama though. I just want her to be nice to my boyfriend. It’s not like I’m asking for world peace.”
“I know. Go tonight and give her a chance. Maybe she’ll come around. God knows, the man is charming. Even you couldn’t resist him,” Peyton said.
“He’s such a good man, and an amazing boyfriend. I want her to be happy for me. Like my dad is.”
