by Laura Kaye
“You up for going fast?” Maverick’s voice yanked her from her thoughts.
Without really thinking, the old answer she used to give when he asked that spilled out of her mouth. “Always.”
Nodding, Maverick smiled over his shoulder, and then he turned off the busy commercial route that led most directly to the Raven Riders’ compound and toward the more rural back way to his house. It didn’t take long to reach the open country road, and then they were flying.
The roar of the engine. The rush of the wind. The sheer power and speed of the bike.
Joy bubbled up inside Alexa until she was smiling and laughing. She wished she could throw out her arms and tilt her head back and let herself just float on the wind. She settled instead for letting out a loud woohoo that made Maverick laugh and had him giving the bike just a little more speed.
A nagging voice in the back of Alexa’s head reminded her how dangerous a bike could be. Doctors didn’t call them “donor cycles” for nothing. Motorcycles versus . . . just about anything was more likely than not going to be worse for the motorcycle, which Tyler’s death had proven. It had just been him versus a wet mountain road and a guardrail. And he hadn’t survived it. Once, that had terrified Alexa for Maverick. Made his bike-riding a risk her heart couldn’t tolerate. And there was still some fear there.
But there was more than that. There was just a sheer exhilaration, too. When was the last time she’d felt this alive, this free, this . . . happy?
Maverick slowed the bike as they approached the back driveway into the Raven Riders’ compound, off of which his house sat. Maverick was one of the few members of the club who lived on the Ravens’ compound, a privilege reserved for those related to the club’s founder, who was also Maverick’s uncle. Though she’d been young, Alexa could still remember the day Maverick and his mother moved into the old cottage on the club’s land to get away from his abusive father. Bunny had moved out years ago into her new husband’s house, but Maverick had stayed here, content to keep his life centered around the club and starting his then-new custom bike-building business.
The forest hung all around them as they approached a secured gate. Maverick swiped a card and they sailed through, then took a turnoff that went farther up the mountain. The trees opened up on Maverick’s house, an old two-story white cottage with a killer view over a small pond and the valley below.
Alexa hadn’t been there in years, which meant every change Maverick had made to the place jumped out at her. The house had a fresh coat of paint and a new roof. New landscaping lined the front of the house. The circular driveway had been paved. The detached garage had new doors. The place looked . . . fantastic. Homey and comfortable and charming.
The bike came to a stop in front of the garage as one of those doors rolled up, and then Maverick eased it into the empty space inside and killed the engine. Alexa pulled her helmet off and handed it to Maverick.
He smiled at her as he helped her off, his big hand warm and strong around hers. “Good time?”
She couldn’t help but smile back. “Really good time.”
“Good.” He dismounted the bike and raked his hands through his hair, and everything about his actions was so freaking sexy. The way his big body moved. The way his T-shirt rode up, revealing a sliver of toned abs and a dark blond happy trail just above the waistband of his jeans. The way he grinned at her all smugly and annoyingly and knowingly when he caught her watching him.
Alexa turned toward the open garage door, needing a break from touching and admiring Maverick freaking Rylan. She scanned her gaze over his house and yard. “Your place looks great, Maverick. You’ve been doing a lot of work.”
He came up beside her. “Checking things off my project list one at a time.”
The house had always been charming, but the TLC he’d put into updating it gave it a curb appeal it never had before. “It really shows.”
“Yeah?” he asked, pride clear in his tone. “You should see the inside.”
Truth be told, the designer inside her was seriously tempted. As was the woman who’d spent many nights here in another lifetime. But Alexa had told her mother she’d be back in less than a half hour, and a part of her also wasn’t sure it was a great idea to be alone with Maverick at his place. Not after what she’d been feeling while riding with him. What she was still feeling . . . “I’d love to, but—”
“Right. I know,” he said abruptly. “We gotta get back. Another time. Maybe.” He turned toward the pickup.
A ribbon of guilt curled inside her belly. “Yeah,” she said, not at all believing there’d be another time. Which was probably for the best.
Heading to the driver’s side of his old truck, Maverick said, “Well, hop in and we’ll take off. Not as fun as the Night Rod but it’ll get the job done.”
Alexa slid into the passenger seat and closed her door. “That’s all that matters. If I don’t keep things under control at the house, Mom will just fill it up. So it’s good to get rid of what we took out right away. I can’t afford for her to lose this place, too.”
Maverick gave her a hard look. “Why would she lose it? I thought Slater owned her place.”
Alexa didn’t bother to ask how he knew that. The one thing Grant and Maverick had in common was that they were both networked into just about everything that happened in Frederick. Grant because of his business activities. And Maverick because of the Ravens’ businesses, not to mention the club’s long history in the area. “He does,” she said. “But he doesn’t know just how bad it can get. It makes me worry.”
Maverick frowned. “Well, there’s no way he’d ever put her out on the street. She’s your mother. He has to know how much she means to you, so I can’t imagine you need to worry. You’re finally set where she’s concerned, Alexa. I know that means a lot to you.”
The words nearly stole Alexa’s breath. Mav didn’t like Grant. It didn’t take a genius to figure that out or know why. So it was a really generous thing for him to say about her fiancé—and really . . . mature, too. She wasn’t sure the old Maverick could’ve offered her that kind of understanding. It meant a lot to her. More than that, it almost sounded like he understood why she’d made the choices she’d made. Or maybe that was her wishful thinking reading into what he’d said. She hoped he did understand. Because Alexa had never wanted to hurt Maverick, even though she knew she had.
Hell. She’d hurt herself, too, hadn’t she? She knew that. Now. Being around him again made her wonder how she’d ever forgotten just how much.
Alexa just hoped Maverick was right about Grant. She wished she knew for sure. The fact that she didn’t know? She refused to analyze too closely what that meant. So she just said, “Yeah. Thanks.”
“Don’t have to thank me,” he said, turning the key. The engine echoed inside the old garage as he backed out of the spot. Then he was putting the truck in Drive and pulling around past the front of his house.
“I do,” she said, studying his roughly handsome profile as he sat behind the wheel. “You didn’t have to do all this today. I appreciate it.” She hadn’t realized how much she needed some support in taking care of her mother until she had Maverick working at her side.
Mav gave her a long sideways glance. “You know I’m always here for you and your mom, right? You and her and Ty were like family to me for a lot of years. That didn’t end just because we didn’t make it. Understand?”
After a moment, Alexa gave a tight nod, and then she had to look away, out her window at the passing trees. So that Maverick didn’t see just how much his words meant to her. Or ask why she suddenly had tears in her eyes.
Because she wasn’t sure she knew, either.
CHAPTER 9
I have a surprise for you,” Grant said almost as soon as Alexa returned home that afternoon. Wearing an expensive blue dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the collar open, he met her in the kitchen and pulled her into a hug and a long, lingering kiss.
Registering his good m
ood—for which she was grateful given how much later she was than usual—Alexa relaxed into his embrace. “You do?” she asked.
“Mmhmm.” Finally, he eased away from the kiss. Tucking some loose strands of hair behind her ear, he smiled. “You’re always so stressed when you come home from your mother’s, so I’m whisking you away for an overnight getaway. We’ll relax, eat great food, take a sail. Just you and me.”
“Wow, really? That sounds amazing,” she said. And so much like the kinds of things he planned for them early in their relationship. He used to take her away on trips and weekend getaways all the time the first year or two that they dated. Weekends in New York City, Atlantic City, and the Massanutten ski resort in the Shenandoahs, and surprise weeks in Mexico, Paris, Rome, to name a few. They still traveled sometimes, but now his business and her school and job responsibilities made it harder to get away as often.
“Having you all to myself is what sounds amazing,” he said, nailing her with an intense stare. “No wedding planning, no jobs, no school, no mother, no life obligations at all. Just you and me.”
A fleeting wave of stress passed through her, because she had been planning to spend Sunday running errands for the wedding. Picking up gifts for Grant and the bridesmaids, who were mostly colleagues at work. Dropping by the reception venue to finalize menu details. Finding a few last things to pack for their honeymoon in Cozumel, the first place they’d ever traveled out of the country together years before. Neither of them having parents who could help with the planning was a mixed blessing—on the one hand it meant they didn’t have to try to please a bunch of people besides themselves, but it also meant she didn’t have any help. And all of that was in addition to the reading she still had to do for Tuesday night’s class. The list was never-ending.
But Grant was right. They could use some time in the midst of all the madness to just focus on each other. And it would help screw her head back on right, too. “That does sound amazing. Thank you, Grant. This is so thoughtful.” She pressed her lips to his. “I’ll just pack a quick bag.”
“Already done,” he said, nodding to something behind her.
She turned to see two overnight bags in the doorway to the foyer. Alexa laughed. “My, someone is eager, isn’t he?”
He kissed her roughly, in a way that made her feel claimed. “Where you’re concerned? Always.” He swatted her on the butt. “Now go get pretty. I’ll pack up the car.”
After cleaning all morning, Alexa guessed she must look a mess. “Okay, I’ll do that.” Excitement and anticipation flitted through her. No doubt wherever he was taking her would be romantic and luxurious and sure to take all her cares away. With a quick last kiss, she pulled away.
He caught her wrist and gave her an intense look. “And wear that white sundress for me.”
“You like that white one, huh?” she asked, batting her eyelashes.
“I like tearing that one off of you,” he said. “I like playing with the knot at your neck and imagining undoing it whenever I want to. Wherever I want to.” His gaze flashed hot, and her belly answered with a flutter of butterflies. Whether nerves or arousal, she wasn’t sure. “Now, go.”
In their room, she found the dress, a pair of panties, and a pair of tall wedges set out at the bottom of the bed, all folded and lined up with excruciating precision. It reminded her of his desk at work, where the few items he kept out on it had exact placements, everything all symmetrical and aligned. She smiled and shook her head. Pure Grant. Dotting every i and crossing every t, and not leaving anything to chance. In his personal life just as in business, he took charge and control of every detail.
She quickly showered, dressed, and styled her hair in a chignon that allowed her to get away without blowing it fully dry. Grant had left her makeup bag on the counter, so she put on her face and a pair of earrings, and then she was ready to go.
Alexa gave herself a once-over in the bathroom mirror. She looked summery and put-together. She wasn’t a hundred percent comfortable going without a bra, but the halter top and low back on the dress didn’t really allow for one. And Grant really liked that about the dress, anyway. So she could be okay with it for the day.
“I’m ready,” she announced when she returned to the kitchen.
Grant gestured with his finger for her to turn for him. She did. “Even more beautiful than I remembered you being in that dress,” he said.
The ride was easy and the time passed quickly with Grant filling her in on how a couple of his projects were developing. The only weirdness happened when she brought up something she probably shouldn’t have.
“Hey, I meant to ask you. What happened to all the newspapers this week? You never left them for me.”
“What do you mean? They were on the desk in the kitchen,” he said.
Alexa frowned. “Really? I didn’t see them. You usually put them on my desk when you’re done with them.”
“Well, forgive me for being a little busy, Alexa.” He gave her a look.
“No, no, of course. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. It just occurred to me that I hadn’t seen them.” She grasped his hand and gave it a squeeze.
“Why is it such a big deal, anyway?” he asked, gaze straight ahead.
“Oh, I just happened to see one of the papers at Mom’s and I hadn’t heard anything about that horrible shooting and attempted kidnapping incident that happened out at Green Valley. That’s all. I was just surprised I hadn’t seen anything about it.”
He shrugged. “The Ravens are such bad fucking news for this town. Violence at their hands is hardly a surprise.”
Schooling her reaction, Alexa swallowed. “I was just curious about it. That’s all.”
“Well, I can’t help it if you didn’t see the papers. It’s not like I was hiding them from you,” he said. His cell rang, and he picked it up on the car’s Bluetooth. “Grant Slater here.”
When he hung up a few minutes later, she apologized again, wanting his good humor back more than anything. Then she steered the conversation to safer subjects, and his mood rebounded.
Two hours later, they were driving through the quaint, small town of St. Michaels on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. They passed antique shops and small eateries on the main street and finally turned onto a long brick-paved and tree-lined driveway that eventually opened up onto a broad courtyard surrounded by a series of white buildings.
“Oh my God. Is this where they filmed Wedding Crashers?” Alexa asked, peering out the window as Grant pulled the car up to the lobby.
Grant laughed and gave her a teasing look. “Leave it to you to know a pop culture reference for one of the nicest resorts in all of Maryland.”
The valet opened her door. “Welcome to the Inn at Perry Cabin,” a man wearing a gray-and-black uniform said.
“Thank you.” She accepted his hand to rise out of the Mercedes.
Grant came around to guide her through the doors with a hand low on her bare back. As they walked inside, he leaned down and pressed his mouth close to her ear. “Every man is looking at this dress and wishing they could be the one to take it off of you. But that pleasure is mine alone. You are mine alone.”
“Of course,” she said with a shiver as she peered up at him.
“Don’t ever forget it,” he said, his expression serious, his gaze piercing.
Before she could respond, they were standing at the reception desk and Grant was checking them in. His words echoed over her body along with a rush of goose bumps. His claiming words had been arousing, but that last line left her feeling . . . odd. Why had he felt the need to say that? She’d been with him for nearly five years. She worked for him, lived with him, wore his ring, and planned to marry him. There wasn’t one part of her life that wasn’t bound up with his. Of course she was his.
Except, just then, images of another man flashed through her head. Maverick. Hugging her mother. Smiling over his shoulder at her on his bike. Raking his hands through his hair. Oh, God. Does he know Maver
ick was at my mother’s today?
Fear and guilt sloshed through her belly. Although, why should she feel guilty? She hadn’t invited Maverick to come, and certainly nothing had happened between them. Then why aren’t you volunteering that you saw him?
“Alexa?” Grant asked.
She blinked up at him, and the look on his face told her he’d called her name more than once. “Sorry,” she said. “Lost in a daydream.”
Grant shook his head and gave her an indulgent smile. “You? Always. Let’s check out our suite,” he said. “I’ve reserved a private dining room for us and we have dinner in an hour.”
“Wow, you didn’t have to do all that, Grant. I’m sure the regular restaurant here is lovely,” Alexa said, taking in the light and airy décor. It was a mix of colonial charm and nautical colors and accents. Large windows provided expansive water views throughout the whole back side of the building, and comfy sitting rooms and reading nooks appeared around every corner.
“Of course I didn’t have to,” Grant said as they made their way down a long hallway, “but tonight I don’t want to share you. I just want you all to myself.” Finally, he gestured toward a door. “This is us.”
The suite was beautiful and spacious. The large sitting room with overstuffed couches and chairs arranged around a fireplace opened onto a porch that overlooked the water. A bowl piled high with fresh fruit sat on the coffee table. Italian marble covered every surface in the bathroom, and a massive four-poster king bed dominated the bedroom. “This is amazing, Grant.”
He came up behind where she stood in the doorway to the bedroom. His hands circled her wrists. “If I wasn’t so hungry, I’d have half a mind to handcuff you to that headboard for the rest of the night and have my way with you.”
Alexa leaned back against him. “You don’t need handcuffs to have your way with me,” she said, putting a lightness in her tone she didn’t quite feel. Grant had always made comments about not wanting to share her and wanting them to be alone, but suddenly it felt different. Less sexy than controlling. Less about desire and more about ownership.
