by Kate, Jiffy
“So, you and Mr. Maverick,” Mary starts as we tackle the last of the rooms that need new linens. Due to an increase in guests, we’ve been so busy, meeting ourselves coming and going. For a while, things were slow enough that Mary could take her time cleaning rooms and preparing them for the next guest, but now, thankfully, business has picked up and she needs my help on a daily basis.
It’s great, except I’m exhausted.
“Me and Mr. Maverick, what?” I ask, breathing heavily as we lift the mattress and tuck the sheets in nice and tight, just like my grandmother taught me.
I know one thing me and Maverick aren’t: getting busy. Please see my previous comment about being exhausted. Also, Jules has been filling in for someone at Revelry, meaning he hasn’t been able to fill in for me during the night shift. Meaning, I haven’t had time for sex. I want it. I know Maverick would give it to me. He tells me all about it with his deliciously, filthy mouth. Sure, we’ve made the most of the last few days, but most of the time we’ve spent together has been in public places. I feel like every time we try to sneak off to his room or my apartment, a crisis arises or someone needs something.
“You’re sweet on him.” She smiles over at me with a wink. For someone old enough to be my grandmother, she’s a shameless flirt and a hopeless romantic. She’s also more boy crazy than someone half her age...or half mine, for that matter. Mary is always the first one to point out a fine specimen. However, I also know that she only window shops, because no one has Mary’s attention quite like George.
“I am,” I admit, because there’s really no reason to lie. Besides, she’d see right through me if I tried.
I like Maverick.
I like him a lot.
“How much longer will he be staying with us?” This time, when she asks the question, she can’t quite look me in the eyes.
“Another few days,” I tell her, feeling the twinge of pain in my chest that accompanies my thoughts every time they turn to Maverick leaving. “He’s already extended his stay twice. When he first showed up, he’d just planned on spending a few days. Then his father called and gave him a job to do while he’s here, scoping out some properties or something like that. He called yesterday and asked for a few more days.”
Our time is short; I’ve known that from the get-go. I also know I’ll miss him. These last couple of weeks have been a whirlwind of unexpectedness—romance, happiness, him...none of it was planned. For the past week, Maverick and I have spent every free second together, both of us with an unspoken understanding that he’ll be going back to his real world soon—Dallas, his job, his father. Five hundred miles away. That’s how far it is from here to there. It doesn’t seem like much until I think about not seeing him every day and the possibility that what we’ve had is fleeting.
“What about when he leaves?” Mary prompts.
“We haven’t really discussed it.” I blow a stray hair out of my face and walk to the cart for a dust rag and cleaner. “I’d like to stay in touch, at least.”
“And him?”
“I think he’d like the same.” I shrug, turning to wipe down the desk and side tables. “I hope. But I guess, there’s a chance I’ll never see him again.”
I’ve been forcing myself to be a realist these past few days, preparing my heart for whatever’s coming.
My chest really aches with that admission.
Mary sighs, walking across the room before asking, “And you’d be okay with that?”
“I guess I’ll have to be.” I try to make the words sound sure and strong, but my voice wavers. “I told myself going into this that I’d have to be alright with him walking away. I knew his time here was short and temporary. It might just be a...fling. People have those every day, right?”
Standing in the middle of the room, Mary looks at me with one hand on the vacuum and one on her hip. I’m staring back at her, begging her with my eyes to say yes...or no...or at least that everything is going to work out fine. Because I’d believe her, no matter what. Mary never lies to me.
“Yes, but not everyone is you, Carys. I know you, you wear your heart on your sleeve. You’ve been guarding it well the last few years, but this man has found a loophole. He’s gotten in there. I can see it on your face when you talk about him and I can see it in your eyes when you look at him.” She pauses, giving me a soft, wary smile. “Be careful. I know I’m the one who told you to go for it, and I meant everything I said. You should get out there, give your heart a chance, but don’t fall for someone who won’t be around to catch you.”
There’s something like regret in Mary’s expression, like she feels responsible for me falling for Maverick.
Not that I’ve fallen for Maverick.
“I’ve only known him two weeks,” I say absentmindedly.
“Your grandfather proposed to your grandmother after one month of knowing her. The only reason it took him that long—”
“Was because he had to wait until her father came to the States to ask his permission,” I finish for her, knowing the story by heart.
“You are your grandfather’s girl,” Mary whispers with a tinge of pride, and also heartache. “There’s so much of him in you.”
“Except all the know-how to make this place run successfully,” I reply, huffing out a laugh and biting the inside of my cheek to keep from crying. All this talk about Maverick and my grandparents has my emotions riding a tidal wave.
“You’ve got that too. You’re already doing so much better. I saw what you did with the office, and George was telling me about your ideas on involving the community.” Mary pauses for a second, walking toward me and taking my hands in hers. “That is a move straight out of Jenson Matthews’ playbook. You’re going to figure it all out. It just takes time.”
“Thanks, Mary,” I tell her, leaning into her and letting her warm arms surround me. Her hug and scent are so familiar. I feel like I’m wrapped in my favorite blanket. “Not just for saying you believe in me, but for always being here. I don’t know what I’d do without you and George.”
“Well, we’re not going anywhere, honey.” She sighs, pushing me back by my shoulders and forcing me to stand tall. “We’re family. That’s what families do.”
After drying my eyes and finishing the room, I head downstairs on a mission. I’m going to finish getting the office in tip-top shape today. It’s going to look so good, it would meet my grandfather’s approval.
I want to make him proud.
“Hey, Jules,” I say when I see his bright smiling face at the desk. “Thanks for working a double today.”
“No probs, Care.” He smiles offering me his cheek to kiss. And then the other. “I need the extra hours. Do you know how much textbooks cost these days? I’m trying to make it through law school without having to sell my first born to gypsies to pay for my student loans.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “Good looks and brains. You’re going to make some man very happy one of these days.”
“Girl, I can cook too.” The look of pure confidence on his face makes me laugh again.
“You’re the total package.”
“Mm hmm. That’s what he said.” Jules goes back to busying himself with something on the computer. “Well, something about my package...and the size of it.”
“Okay, on that note, you can find me in my office.”
“Yes, ma’am, boss ma’am.”
“Don’t call me ma’am.”
“Boss bitch.”
“Better.”
I work for what feels like hours, opening old mail that should’ve been opened the day it came in the door, filing old bills, sorting receipts and papers. My grandfather and mother ran a tight ship. They would’ve never let things get like this, but I also remember how things were after my grandfather passed away. It took my mother a couple of months to pull herself together and get caught up. So, I try to give myself a bit of a break. Sure, my eighteen months is a bit longer than her two, but she had a lot more experience than me. Plus, she was already basica
lly running the everyday business of the hotel by the time my grandfather died. I was a frivolous college student, staying up too late, eating too much junk food, drinking too much coffee… partying on the weekends and not thinking past the next paper or test.
My days were spent here at the hotel, but I wasn’t responsible for anything. My mother would probably say she did me a disservice, but I’d say she was letting me live. And I did. I loved my life. I missed my grandmother, and especially my grandfather, but I had Mary and George and my mama. It was an easy life.
Looking at the semi-organized mess, I sigh.
Every time I’m in here, I feel like I’m missing something. Like there’s a piece of the puzzle I’m forgetting. Fortunately, my mother had what I like to call a master list of important items. I found it the day after she died. Weirdly, it was sitting in the middle of the desk, like she knew she wasn’t going to be here any longer and that I’d need some instruction.
George and Mary get paid every Friday.
Mr. Johnson picks up the rugs and linens on Tuesdays and drops them back off on Wednesday morning. Pay him at drop-off.
Sales tax reports are due quarterly. Never skip this.
Insurance is paid yearly. Mr. Collins will call you for payment.
Utilities are due on the 25th of every month.
Miss Lily has the best flowers. Buy them for the foyer.
And that’s where it ends. It feels incomplete. Maybe it’s because I miss her and I know there was so much more for her to teach me. Maybe it’s because if you look closely, it looks like there’s a mark where a next line would be...a small dot on the paper under the last line. Maybe that’s my crazy, overactive imagination. Maybe it’s because I’ve looked at this paper—touched this paper—at least once a day for the last five hundred and forty-eight days.
Sighing deeply, I put the piece of paper back in the drawer for safe keeping. As I push my chair back a little to stretch, I take inventory of the stacks and try to decide what to do next. I’ve got everything in piles of how important they look. If it’s from the state or the IRS, it’s in one pile. If it’s from the city, it’s in another pile. If it’s a credit card offer or coupons, it’s in the shred pile.
“Knock, knock.”
My favorite voice draws my eyes to the door. Maverick is standing there looking like someone who just stepped out of a magazine, one catering to hard-working sex gods with perfect scruff and perfectly imperfect hair. Blue eyes blaze, taking me in, as a wicked smirk forms on his perfect lips.
Perfect.
Perfect timing.
Perfect distraction.
Perfect man.
“Hey,” I finally reply. My voice sounding raspy from non-use.
“How long have you been in here?” he asks, stepping further into the office. I’m hoping he’ll shut the door behind him, so we can have more of the office fun time he’s gifted me with over the last few days, but he doesn’t. He stops just short of the desk and crosses his strong arms over his chest, drawing my attention to the button-down shirt he’s wearing. Lately, he’s been living in t-shirts and worn jeans, which is perfectly okay with me. But I do love him like this.
“Going somewhere?” I counter, with my own question.
“You first.”
“A while,” I reply, fighting a yawn. “I think I need to stretch my legs.”
Maverick quirks an eyebrow. “I can help with that.”
I nod, slowly standing from my chair. “What did you have in mind?”
“Dinner. My place.”
“Oh, really?” I ask, unable to keep the smile from my face. “You cook?”
“I order,” he says in a husky tone, leaning over my desk, coming closer but not close enough. So, I do the same, making up the difference.
“Oh, really?” I ask again, but this time, my lips are practically touching his. “I think I might like that.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
Chapter 21
Maverick
“Why are we taking the elevator?” she asks with a squeal as I back her against the wall before the door even has a chance to shut.
“Because I’ve been thinking about having you in tight quarters all fucking day,” I confess, pressing my arousal against her as I lean forward and kiss her neck.
I had every intention of walking Carys up the stairs, taking my time, talking to her about what’s been on my mind lately—her, us, and some sort of long distance relationship. I knew right then why they say the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Because my intentions had been fucking honorable as hell, until the second I saw her.
Her hair a mess of blonde, piled on top of her head.
V-neck t-shirt that shows just the top swell of her breasts.
Then she stood up and all I saw were her bare legs.
And a vision of them wrapped around me.
Carys’ laugh fills the small elevator and it spurs me on even more. A few more seconds in this thing and I’d have her naked, plunging deep inside her.
Maybe we’ll do that.
One of these days.
“What if someone—” she starts on a moan, but I cut off her what-ifs when I pull down her t-shirt and expose her bra, dipping my tongue under the lace and then sucking the edge of one of her nipples into my mouth.
“Maverick.” My name is part invocation, part admonition.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” I groan around her soft skin. “Fuck...I’ve been thinking about nothing but you since the night I walked through those front doors.” The confession is easy.
Looking up, I watch as her hooded eyes slowly go wide and a lazy smile caresses her lips. “You have?”
“Yeah,” I swallow, ready to tell her exactly how I feel about her, but she’s the culprit this time. She launches herself at me, pushing me back against the opposite wall and making the small elevator shake. I have no choice but to catch her as she wraps her long legs around my waist.
Fuck talking.
Talking is overrated.
I’ll show her exactly how I feel.
Stumbling out into the hallway, I make it to my room on rote memory. As I fish the key out of my pocket, I’m thankful for the piece of antiquity. It’s easy to find and easy to slip into the lock. Carys’ lips are devouring mine, her hands laced into my hair, as I push the door open and then kick it closed behind me.
Once we’re inside the room, she pauses, pulling back to look at me. “You got shrimp and grits,” she moans, like it’s part of the foreplay.
“How’d you know?” I ask, loving the way she’s looking at me with hooded eyes and swollen lips, knowing I did that to her. I own this look of ecstasy and it’s delectable; she’s delectable. As good as the food smells, Carys is better. I could have her for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And I plan on starting right now.
Leaning forward, she places her lips near my ear, whispering, “It’s my second favorite smell in the world.” When she sucks the sensitive skin into her mouth, grazing it with her teeth, it sends shivers down my body, straight to my cock.
“What’s your first?” I manage to ask, loving the way she feels, needing more everything.
More of her sweet words.
More of her sweet skin.
More of her sweet mouth.
More Carys.
She stops, meeting my gaze—deep and unguarded. Swiping her tongue along her bottom lip before answering, “You...Maverick.” Her tone is vulnerable, yet confident. “I want you. Now. Please.”
“We can take our time,” I offer, wanting her to know we don’t have to rush, not this time.
Normally, when we sneak off to make out, we never know how long we’ll have, so we’re used to going fast. But I talked to Jules and he told me he’d cover for Carys tonight. And even though my mind knows that, I’m having to convince my dick to slow its roll, because it has one objective—sinking into Carys’ warm, wet heat.
But I want to savor this. I want to savor her.
/> “You’re leaving soon,” she adds, a hint of sadness dulling her bright blue eyes.
“Not tonight.” I wish I could say never, but I can’t. “And Jules is covering for you, so we’ve got time.”
When her smile returns, it’s slow and assuming. “All night?”
“All night.”
She loosens her legs on my waist and slides down my body, reigniting the fire I felt in the elevator. Without another word, she steps back and quickly untucks her t-shirt, pulling it over her head. She then shimmies her shorts down her legs. Her bra and panties follow close behind, and the next thing I know, she’s standing in front of me with nothing on, making my mouth water and my heart practically beat out of my chest.
With her eyes glued to mine, she reaches up and unties her hair, letting her blonde waves cascade over her shoulders.
I take a minute to appreciate and memorize the perfection that is Carys. I want to take this vision, her memory, with me. She’s carved out a place in my heart I’ll never get back, but I wouldn’t want it, even if I could.
“You need to get naked,” she says with an even tone, her mouth curving up with a hint of mischief and confidence. It’s fucking sexy as hell.
She’s fucking sexy as hell.
Without preamble, I discard my shirt and step out of my jeans and boxers. Her eyes blaze as she greedily takes in my body, not even trying to hide the fact she’s gawking. We’ve been semi-naked before, half-clothed, but not like this. So, I give her a moment, letting her gaze own me.
Turnabout is fair play.
But I can’t stand the small distance between us. I need her. I need to touch her and feel her...hear her.
When my hands are literally itching to touch her, I stalk forward, backing her up until her knees hit the bed and she falls back. Placing my hands on either side of her, I stare down, taking her in—blonde hair everywhere, cheeks flushed, freckles peppered on her nose and cheeks...those eyes. I remember the first day I saw her, I couldn’t quite tell if they were green or blue or some crazy combination, but now I know they’re blue, just a unique shade...and they change depending on her mood and what she’s wearing. Right now, they’re a bright blue—needy and excited.
