Chapter Three
Maverick
The brunette with wild curls grated his nerves. He usually never gave a thing like that a second thought. Hell, why would I? A pretty girl touching him? Practically falling over his lap, offering everything? On any other night, he might have taken her up on her unspoken offer.
Tonight was different.
He had to keep an eye on his best buddy’s little sis. That’s what I’m supposed to be doing.
Babysitting.
Through his peripheral vision, he saw her carefully step down from the barstool, smoothing out her pretty dress just as a guy walked up to her, a guy who looked vaguely familiar.
The bubbly brunette giggled and touched his arm again, clearly not getting the point that he wasn’t interested. Glancing back at Sofi and the guy, he recognized the poor idiot who had no chance in hell. The kid was the new cop in town.
Fuck, what is his name? Roger? Rocco?
“Excuse me.” He winked at the brunette, who looked slightly confused, but he didn’t stay put and kept moving. His feet took him directly to Sofia and the idiot who was busy putting the moves on her.
Gallantly slipping his hand over her shoulder, he felt her stiffen, but she relaxed when she looked up at him. Her eyes were warm, and he should have stepped away.
Hell, he shouldn’t have touched her again. But she was looking at him with those damn wide eyes, and without knowing it, she was soothing something inside of him. Before getting lost to the point of no return, he glanced away and glared at the cop who was looking as if he still thought he had a chance.
You poor clueless sap.
“Hey.”
“Hey, Bridges, how have you been?” the cop asked, obviously remembering his name.
“Good, uh…”
“Rocco,” the rookie shared, and Mav nodded.
“Rocco. That’s it. I didn’t know you knew our little Sofi here.” He sounded like an asshole, and Sofia would have probably agreed with him, judging by the way her body tensed up.
“Little Sofi?” the idiot asked, raising an eyebrow, and he shook his head.
“Sofi. Sofia Blanco. Gabe Blanco’s sister. His baby sister, right, Sofi?” he asked, daring to look at her, but she wasn’t looking at him. Her eyes were on Rocco and his reaction.
“Oh,” the ball-less moron mumbled, taking a clear step back. Her shoulders slumped forward in slight disappointment.
Did she want to go home with Rocco?
The idea of any other man touching her didn’t settle well in his stomach.
“I didn’t know. Umm, well… It was nice meeting you, Sofia. See you guys around!” He turned, just in time to get the bubbly brunette’s attention, and they started to talk.
Sofi and he stood silently for a moment, side by side as they watched the two flirt.
“You’re welcome,” he announced, tilting his head to look down at her. She’s a tiny little thing.
”Welcome?” she asked slowly, and he shrugged.
“Yeah.”
“For what, exactly?” Her creamy-toned skin was a pretty shade of pink. His hands wanted to reach out and trace it. Gabe’s sister, he reminded himself again. He stuck his hands in his pockets.
“For saving you,” he pointed out, looking away and around the bar. She should have been thanking him for saving her the headache of the little idiot. Instead, he could feel the daggers she was shooting in his direction.
He acted as if he didn’t notice and just shrugged, adding, “Rocco’s not a bad guy, just a dumbass.”
“Well, at least I know he’s in good company,” she muttered like a smartass, stepping away from him, and he let go of her, ignoring the way he missed the feel of her.
When have I ever missed a woman being close?
Turning to look at her, he realized his mistake. She was gone. Skimming around the bar, he spotted her sexy little body at the exit. The little minx was walking out. He should have let her go.
That’s what a smart man would have done.
Too bad he wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box.
Sofia
All I wanted to do was get to Gabe’s place and take a shower. The colder, the better. All thanks to Gabe’s roommate! How had I never met the famous Maverick Bridges? How didn’t I know the guy my mom and brother constantly talked about lived with Gabe?
Key in hand, I got into the old Jeep Gabe had stored for me. I slipped the key into the ignition, but nothing happened. I tried again and closed my eyes, then I leaned my head against the steering wheel when the engine refused to turn over.
If anything, it sounded like a drowning cat. Damn it. This was the last thing I needed.
Pressing my head against the steering wheel, I took a deep breath, reminding myself of why I came back home.
My mom.
My brother.
Regardless of what they thought, family was important to me. Even if living in this tiny town meant I couldn’t date a guy within a twenty-mile radius. Being Beech Grove’s future fire chief’s little sister made me untouchable.
As much as a pain in the ass as that could be in itself, I loved my hometown. I loved the way everyone knew one another. It was rare for Southern California.
I wouldn’t have left if it hadn’t been for the fact that I had received a full scholarship to Oxford after completing a study abroad program in high school, and later, a grant for my master’s. Not that I hadn’t enjoyed my time seeing places that many people only daydreamt of. I had. I wrung the hell out of my experience in Europe. It had been amazing, but now I was finally home.
Home.
Home and apparently single for a very long time. Single and currently starving and stranded outside of a sports bar.
A knock at passenger’s side window startled me, making me jump before I saw who stood there.
Why me?
“What?” I shouted, not daring to open the window or door. The overgrown, sinfully delicious man pointed to the door, and with a shake to my head, I unlocked it.
He slid in easily, and I couldn’t help but watch and wonder how a guy his size could ever be considered graceful. My stomach growled quietly, a reminder of what a mess my first night home had been.
“What do you want?” I asked sternly. His eyes went dark, practically burning me with lust, immediately making me regret my poor choice of words.
“What are you doing?” he asked, and at that moment, after my day, I didn’t know if I wanted to slap him or kiss him.
“What?”
“Why are you sitting with your head on the wheel?” he asked again as if asking the score of a game, and my eyes narrowed.
“Why do you care?”
“Look, Gabe’s my best friend.”
“You don’t say?” I mocked, the sarcasm plain as day in my voice.
“And your mom is a nice lady.” God! Did he have to bring my mom into it? “A really nice lady.”
“She is.” My tone softened because it was my mom. My mom was the best.
“The Blancos took me in so to speak when I moved here.”
“Have they?” I asked needlessly. Sitting in my Jeep with him, looking at him, I could picture how easily he would have fit with the two most important people in my life. A lot easier than I did, that was for sure.
“Yeah. So, I can’t leave the youngest one abandoned in a non-operational vehicle.”
“Non-operational? Formal much?” I sighed. I looked out to the darkened parking lot wondering how the hell I had gotten myself into this situation. Or I tried to, at least. In reality, I was trying to ignore how good Maverick smelled.
“So, then?” he asked, ignoring my attitude.
I frowned. Lack of sleep and food, not to mention the fact that I was obviously not getting laid tonight, all combined, making me sound catty. But I couldn’t drum up the energy to care.
“Then what?” I asked, trying not to breathe the sexy smelling air of my enclosed car.
“What’s up with the car?”
Then he did something that made my heart stammer. His face transformed in front of me as he gave me the biggest smile I had ever seen. White, straight teeth almost sparkled back in the darkness. My body reawakened at the sight and sound of the deep timbre of his laughter, causing my previous frustration to simply fade away.
“I got that much. Try to start it,” he ordered. Still in a daze over his smile and no longer in the mood to argue, plus I didn’t trust my voice if I spoke, I turned the key without a word. My poor Jeep still sounded like a drowning cat.
“Okay. Come on, get your stuff and lock it up,” he ordered with a shrug.
“Wait, what?” I questioned.
“Come on.”
“Come on where?” I asked, my voice rising.
“I’ll take you home and come back for it in the morning with your brother,” he explained, but I shook my head, hating the idea.
“No.”
“What?” His manly brows scrunched together.
“I said no,” I repeated. There was no way in hell that would work.
“Come on, kid.” He sighed, and I snapped.
“Okay. Let’s get a couple of things straight here. First off, I’m not a kid,” I pointed out, sounding bratty, but with the way something flashed in his eyes, I figured I got my message across.
“Sure, you’re not.” He rolled his eyes at me, and my eye twitched when he added, “Kid.”
Taking a deep, somewhat unsteady breath in order to not slap him, I ignored him and kept going. “Second, I don’t need Gabe to take care of my stuff. I can just call Triple A and—”
“Okay, hold on there. First off, he would be fucking pissed if he found out you called Triple A when he could have helped.” He is probably right, I thought to myself as I looked at my lap. It sounded like Gabe. Though knowing my brother, he would complain the entire time.
“You don’t get it.” I sighed into the darkness of my vehicle.
“Then explain it to me.” I stopped looking at my lap and looked at him.
In the darkness and under the moonlight and the dim streetlight, he looked even better than he had in the bar.
“I’m the youngest,” I shared with him, but by the way he was looking at me, he didn’t understand. “Gabe acts like I’m younger than when I left.” I explained.
“What?” He obviously didn’t get it, and I hated that I needed to explain, but something about the way he was behaving and how I felt, I needed him to understand.
“I left Beech Grove at seventeen. I’ve been back twice since, and every time I’ve been home, he’s acted like I’m twelve.”
“He just…” Maverick started to defend Gabe. Of course, he would.
“And you know what? I don’t get it. I’m twenty-five now. I’ve been gone for almost a decade.”
“Kid—”
“But this morning, I called to let him know I caught an earlier flight. I did it so he wouldn’t have to worry about picking me up. I planned on taking a shuttle or cab. My mom mentioned he had an errand he had to take care of and how he was going to be cutting it close. I thought I was helping—”
“Umm Sof—“
“But do you know what he did?”
“Sofi—”
“He bitched and moaned and said I was irresponsible. How was that irresponsible? I have taken care of myself in a foreign country, traveled and backpacked through different countries, but my brother still acts like I’m a crazy preteen trying to go on a public bus for the first time. Let me tell you, it’s been a long time since I hitched a ride on the bus to go to the mall two towns over.”
“I’ve heard that story.” Maverick’s bright smile faltered the second he caught my frown. I kept hoping, somehow, someway, Mav would understand, despite having been an asshole in the bar, why I didn’t want to rely on Gabe to fix this for me.
“I need to get this taken care of on my own. It’s my first night back. If he takes this on, fixes this for me, I‘m not proving anything to him. I need to prove to him that I’m an adult now. A self-sufficient adult who has taken care of herself for a long time.” Maverick’s expression grew serious as he looked back at me and blinked.
“I don’t think he would make that big of a—“
“He would, and because of that, I need to take care of this. Look, go back in there. Do your thing. I got this,” I told him, feeling every second of my jetlag kicking in and exhausting me.
“Do my thing?” he asked gently, his curiosity clear, and I shrugged.
“Come on.” I smiled at him. “You know me through my brother and my mom, but the kicker is, I know you, too.”
“You do, huh?”
“Yeah.” Did I ever. My mom loved him. But she was also very aware of all the notches on his bedpost. “Your whole doing me in different positions thing is pretty much your thing.”
“My thing?”
“Yeah.” I smirked. “It’s cool. I get it. Now that you know I’m ‘Little Sofia Blanco,’ you don’t want to touch me with a ten-foot pole—“
“I don’t.” He grimaced, not letting me finish my thought, and as much as it stung that he was that quick to agree, it was better to know where I stood.
I knew moving back here that it was going to be difficult for me to find someone to date after they found out who my older brother was. There was no reason to make it worse by hooking up with his best friend. Or even daydreaming about it.
No matter how hot he was.
Or how good he smelled.
Or how surprisingly easy he was to talk to.
“Okay, then. Go do your thing. I will figure out my car situation, and I’ll probably see you in the morning or whatever.” Hopefully, he was one of those guys who was hardly ever home. If not, I was doomed.
He clenched his sexy, bearded jaw before breaking our stare, his hand going to the door. “If that’s what you want to do.” His tone sounded like he couldn’t care less, and yet his body language confused me.
“I do.” I don’t. But I had to. I was a grownup. This was what a grown woman had to do for herself.
The door opened, and I exhaled a lungful of air I didn’t know I was holding.
Opening my own door, I stepped out of my car and pulled my hair up into a messy bun at the top of my head. It was time to get dirty.
“Pop the hood,” his voice rumbled, making me jump.
“What?” I looked over at him at the end of the car.
“Pop the hood,” he ordered again.
“Mav—”
“Don’t start with me,” he bit back. “You don’t wanna call your brother, fine. I get it. You know what?” He frowned as he walked toward me almost predatory. “I even respect that.”
“Oh.” I blinked looking at him, feeling kind of happy by his sentiment.
“I don’t want to respect that,” he muttered to himself, and I felt my face squish together, the happiness fleeting away as quickly as it had arrived.
“Why?” I blurted, wondering what the hell his problem was.
“Because. You being a spoiled little princess would make life easier,” he grumbled.
“Say what?” Who did he think he was? “I’m not a spoiled princess!”
“Never mind. Just pop the hood,” he barked. Something in his tone made me uneasy, so I obeyed without argument. The hood clicked open. Still frustrated, I couldn’t help myself. I marched my ass over to him, hands on my hips, letting my annoyance show.
“How would me being a spoiled princess be easier for you?” I asked, pressing my body closer to his so that I could look at the engine. Sure, that’s why I’m pressing closer. I rolled my eyes at myself and looked up at Maverick.
His hands locked together at the base of his neck, slightly tangled in his longish hair, and I had the biggest urge to skim my nose in that spot. Before I did something crazy, I took a step back. He glanced at me, making me wish I could make out what he was thinking. “So?”
&
nbsp; Shaking his head, he bent his body toward the engine. He started monkeying around with the engine and the cables for the battery, even the hoses. What he didn’t do was answer my question.
“Try now,” he muttered deeply, and I frowned.
“You really think that helped?” I asked with too much attitude, but I couldn’t help it.
“Can you try and start the damn car?” he huffed, his yes still on the engine, and I stubbornly walked back to the driver’s side and turned the key. To my delight, it roared to life.
“Oh, my God!” I yelled. Shrill excitement dripped from my voice as I slipped out and walked toward him. “You fixed it!”
“What can I say, I’ve been told I have magic hands.” He grinned, meeting me at the fender of my car.
My eyes dropped to his hands. I couldn’t help myself. A boatload of images flashed through my head. His hand moving over my body, tangling in my hair as he pulled my mouth to him. My imagination ran wild with X-rated visions of how magical his hands could be.
Stop it, Sofia! I scolded myself, feeling my body heat up. Somehow, Maverick Bridges brought out the woman inside of me I’d been neglecting for way too long. And sadly will have to neglect for a while longer.
“You’re good to go,” he informed, and I realized a little too late that we were standing really close. His scent overwhelmed my senses.
“Yeah. Thanks,” I nervously murmured, biting the inside of my lip. A soft gasp escaped from me the moment he raised his hand and with the pad of his thumb pulled on my lower lip. His dark eyes were fixed on my mouth so intensely, I felt my blood heat another ten degrees in a split second. My body was alive and awake with desire.
“You shouldn’t look at me like this, Princess,” he warned. I licked my lips.
“Like what?” I asked, almost enjoying the way he called me princess. I wasn’t a girly girl. I never had been. But his voice calling me that made me feel supremely feminine. Sexy and powerful.
“You know like what,” he whispered. I watched his lips move, hypnotizing me as his voice washed over me, the tone vibrating deep into my core.
“What way am I looking at you?” I pushed, though I could imagine what he was talking about. I was looking at him like he was an ice cream cone in a hundred-degree weather.
Burning Bridges Page 3
