“No choice. Huh,” she teased. “Are all the Simon men so demanding?”
“I am.”
“Good thing I like demanding.” she replied.
Maverick swept one last kiss across her mouth, groaning because she tasted so damn good. But he was strong. He pulled away and strode into the front room where he easily scooped up Connor.
He followed Charlie upstairs, his eyes lingering on her, enjoying the way she moved. He was dying to get his hands on her. He waited while Charlie pulled back his covers, liking how Connor felt in his arms. The little guy snuggled into his neck and murmured a bunch of stuff that Maverick didn’t understand. He felt incredibly humbled by the absolute trust shown by this little boy, and when he laid him down, Maverick gave him a kiss. It didn’t feel weird—in fact it felt absolutely right. Connor turned toward him, his eyelashes fluttering and the sweetest little smile ever appeared on his face.
Charlie smoothed her brother’s brow as the little guy burrowed into the covers, and watching the two of them, here among his things, made Maverick feel like a king.
He left Charlie and Connor in his bedroom, and as he made his way back downstairs, he realized a few things.
Right now, in this moment, he felt complete.
Right now, in this moment, he had something to look forward to and that something was a woman named Charlie. And as odd as it might seem, it was also a little boy named Connor.
Christ, Donovan, with all her raging mom-to-be hormones, would be all over this shit. He smiled at the thought.
“Another one bites the dust.”
Maverick glanced up and spied his brother at the door. He’d changed into old jeans, work boots and heavy blue flannel. Cooper Simon was about as far away from his expensive Italian suits as you could get. It was a good look for him.
“You’ve got that goofy look on your face. The same one that Jack had when he first met Donovan,” Cooper said, shaking his head. “Tucker too, when he brought Abby around.”
“And?”
“It’s all good brother.”
“Maybe you’re next.”
Cooper’s face lost all expression and Maverick watched him closely. He and his brother were tight—in spite of a few bumps. He knew about Cooper’s past. About the dark things that had shaped him into the man that he was.
“I doubt it,” Cooper offered and then opened the door. “I’ll be in the shop if you want to have a drink.”
Maverick watched his brother leave and he realized that right now, in this moment, he was in a place he’d never been in before. It was a good place. A place full of hope and promise and after the events of the last week or so, Maverick was perfectly fine with that.
Chapter Twenty-two
Charlie woke before dawn. Outside the wind howled and though she was warm beneath the pile of covers, she was too restless to stay in bed. With a quick peek at Connor—who was still dead to the world—she swept a kiss across his brow and slipped from beneath the blankets.
She rummaged through her bag and pulled on an old pair of sweat pants along with an oversized MIT sweatshirt. After tying her hair back into a loose ponytail, she stepped into a pair of fuzzy slippers and with one last glance at Connor, snuck out of the room.
It was still dark, but she managed to make her way down the stairs without tripping and breaking anything. Though she winced on the last step—the squeak sounded way too loud in the big, silent house.
Rick was still asleep on the sofa in the front room, and she couldn’t ignore the tug on her heartstrings as she stood over him. He was shirtless with his arms flung over his head, and his hair mussed so badly she knew he must have tossed and turned most of the night. His long lashes shadowed the skin beneath his eyes, making them appear even longer, and something about the expression on his face made her heart squeeze.
What was it about a grown man asleep?
She took a step back, because it was hard for her to watch him. Hard for her to think that there might not be many more mornings where she’d be able to wake up and see this glimpse of the young man he’d been.
Exhaling slowly, she backed out of the room and crept down the hall to the kitchen. A hot cup of cocoa sounded just about right. Rick had made some when she’d been here the week before, and she was hoping there was at least one packet left.
Light fell into the room from the outside fixture and she didn’t bother flipping the switch as she walked into the kitchen. She turned on the gas burner and after filling the kettle with water, set it there. She found a cup and began rummaging through the cupboards looking for the cocoa. She’d nearly given up when she spied it on the top shelf in the pantry beside the fridge.
Yes. Of course it was on the top shelf.
“Damn,” she muttered, eyeing the shelf dubiously.
She stood on her tiptoes and extended her hand as far as she could, but her fingertips only managed to push the box further back. She tried again and swore like a trucker when she stubbed her toe and almost fell on her ass.
Something scraped behind her, like a chair being dragged across the floor. Charlie froze and glanced to her side. A man stood near the breakfast nook, most of him lost in shadow.
“You look like you need some help.” His voice was rough, like sandpaper.
Charlie took a step back and turned to face him. “I was trying to reach the cocoa, but I guess I need a few more inches.”
Teague Simon stepped from the shadows and walked over to her. He was tall with broad shoulders, but moved slowly—it was obvious that he was in a lot of pain.
“I can grab a chair,” she started to say, but he moved past her and her voice trailed off as she watched him reach up for her cocoa.
The man was shirtless (was that a Simon thing?), wearing nothing but plaid flannel pajama bottoms, and his feet were bare. Yellow and purple bruising covered areas of his back and shoulders, and his ribs were taped. There were wounds across his lower back, mean and ugly looking lacerations, and she jerked her eyes from them when he turned around.
She’d seen his picture on the news and she knew how handsome this man was. And even now with black eyes, a broken nose and an unshaved face, he would turn heads. But there was something missing and she didn’t know him well enough to know what that something was. It was more of a feeling.
He handed her the cocoa without a word and moved back to the breakfast nook in the corner of the kitchen. Maybe he liked the shadows. Maybe he liked not being seen.
“Thanks,” she said slowly, jumping when the kettle whistled. “Would you like a cup?”
Several seconds ticked by without an answer and Charlie felt heat stain her cheeks as she moved to the counter. “Sorry, I’ll make this and leave you alone.”
“You don’t have to go,” he replied. “And thanks for the offer, but I’ve already got something.”
Charlie got busy making her cocoa and after placing the box in the pantry, she tucked the kettle back into its spot in the cupboard. She grabbed her cup and turned around, unsure if she should stay or go.
“Turn the light on if you want,” Teague said.
Charlie took a sip from her cup. “I don’t mind the dark.” It wasn’t all that dark anymore anyway. The shadows were giving way to early morning light that crept in across the horizon.
She watched him take a sip from a tumbler. “Little early for whiskey, isn’t it?”
“Sweetheart, it’s never too early for whiskey.” He paused and held his tumbler aloft as if they were toasting and then tipped his head back. He finished the glass in one long gulp, inhaling sharply as he slammed the tumbler down onto the table.
“Son of a bitch,” he said under his breath, shoulders hunched. He rubbed the arm that was in a sling and swore again.
“Is there anything I can do?” Charlie asked, taking a step forward.
“Nope, not unless you can locate another bottle of Gibson’s Finest.”
She shrugged. “Sorry.”
He was quiet for a few moments, his
eyes studying her with an intensity that was missing before now. “I’m Teague by the way. I take it you belong to Maverick.”
Okay, the guy was hurting and had been through something horrific. She got that. But Charlie wasn’t the kind of girl to take a comment like that. Not from anyone.
“You can call me Charlie,” she said, walking toward him. “But this girl doesn’t belong to anyone. I’m not a pet.”
For a moment his expression was blank and then something kind of wonderful happened. A soft, slow smile crept over his face and she got a glimpse of the real man.
Damn, Ava was right . The Simon men were hot.
“Guess she told you. I like this girl.”
Charlie and Teague turned as Cooper walked into the kitchen. He was tall, like the other men, but unlike Rick or Teague, this Simon was blond.
“You look like shit,” Teague said.
“I’ve been up all night.” And he looked it, with his bloodshot eyes.
“Doing what?” Teague asked.
Cooper ignored his cousin and smiled at Charlie. The man looked like he could be Beau Simon’s brother, not his cousin, and she blushed as his smile deepened. Bastard. He knew exactly the kind of power that he had. It would take some kind of woman to tangle with a man like him.
She thought of the shop and began to wonder. She knew the musical stuff belonged to Rick but the office tucked away in the back was all Cooper. And from what little she’d read, she didn’t think the guy had any sort of passion aside from parties and the odd Simon family foundation event. And yes, she knew this because she’d Googled pretty much every Simon that there was—including Rick. And that was something she wasn’t going to think about right now.
Seeing all those photos of him with so many glamorous women had made Charlie realize just how big the divide between them was. And then there’d been the pictures of him naked on some patio with the allusion that some Hollywood starlet was just out of range. He was so far from her world that it was laughable.
Maverick Simon was Hollywood and Nashville, while she was just a mechanic in a small town in Maine. It almost sounded like some hokey country song.
“What is it that you do out there anyway?” she asked, deflecting and pushing aside her thoughts.
“Well darlin’,” Cooper said with that slow grin that she was coming to know as a Simon family trait. “I could tell you, but I’m not sure you’re ready to know what exactly what that is.”
Teague grunted. “That’s got to be the worst comeback I’ve ever heard.”
Cooper shrugged. “It’s far too early for me to be clever, and I’m working on no sleep.” He paused, eyeing up his cousin. “I’m glad to see you up and to hear you using your vocal chords. The whole silent treatment and grunting when you want something is getting old.”
“Go to hell,” Teague said.
“Don’t be an asshole. We have company.”
“You have anymore Gibson’s around here?”
“You bet.” Cooper nodded. “In the shop.”
“Wanna get me some?” Teague asked.
Okay, it was time for Charlie to step in.
“How about I make us some scrambled eggs first?” She raised an eyebrow at Teague before turning to Cooper. “And while I’m getting the eggs and toast prepared, you could do us a favor and make a pot of coffee.”
She didn’t bother to wait for either man to respond. Instead she gathered up the things she needed from the fridge—eggs, cheese, bacon and sausages.
She started on the eggs and moved aside when Cooper dove in and shredded the cheese. Between the two of them, they cooked up enough food to feed a small army and when she set the platter of sausages on the table, Charlie stood back and smiled.
“Smells good.”
She was still smiling when she turned and spied Rick standing in the entrance to the kitchen. His hair was still a mess, his jaw unshaven, and his jeans hung dangerously low on his hips. She knew from experience that he probably wasn’t wearing boxers.
He’d not bothered to throw on a shirt and her mouth went dry when she met his gaze. The zigs and zags she’d felt when she’d first laid eyes on him erupted inside her like an overflowing volcano.
Wow. That was all she had right now. Wow.
Years ago when Charlie was a teenager—before her mother had taken off and ruined all of her fantasies of happily ever after and true love—she’d been a reader. Her novels of choice had been the paperback romances Elizabeth would buy and then stuff in the back of the cabinet in the dining room when she was done with them. In those books the men were always just wow.
They were larger than life, with the ability to sweep a woman off her feet and make her happy for the rest of her life. But they were books. They weren’t real. Men like that didn’t exist, at least not in Charlie’s world.
As time went on, as Charlie’s dreams were shattered and the thought of meeting a man who could knock her on her ass had pretty much vanished, she’d forgotten about those books. Forgotten about the men and the women they loved.
How many times had she and Ava sat up for hours on a Saturday night, sharing a couple bottles of wine and talking about how that man didn’t exist? Of course, now she knew that Ava had believed in it all along—that Ava had just been in denial. But what did Charlie believe?
Was Rick that guy? Would any other man ever make her sit back and think that he was just…wow?
Charlie felt silly because she had no other words. How did you describe it when your heart accelerated to the point where you thought you might pass out? Or how her legs suddenly felt like jelly?
“Hey,” Rick said slowly taking a step forward. His voice still held a hint of sleep and she loved the huskiness of it.
“Hey,” she replied softly.
“Guys,” Cooper said, reaching for a piece of bacon. “I think there’s more conversation in that there Planet of The Apes movie, no?”
It was then that she noticed a little head by his side. A little hand inside his large one. A little Ninja Turtle pajama clad body hiding behind his.
“I went up to check on you two and Connor was just waking up. He decided that he was ready for breakfast.”
“I’m guessing this is your brother?” Cooper asked, taking a step forward.
Charlie didn’t answer because she couldn’t.
Wow . Just wow.
The tightness in her chest, the ache in her heart…they told her a few things. But the biggest thing was real simple. Rick Simon was her guy. He was it.
And she didn’t know if that made her incredibly happy or incredibly sad. As she stood there with a big old lump in her throat, aware that four pairs of eyes were focused on her, she couldn’t help but think back to those stupid romance novels and all of those happily ever after’s.
Real life didn’t work that way. So why the hell was she hoping that hers would?
Chapter Twenty-three
By the time his aunt and uncle came down for breakfast, Teague had shut down. He ignored his parents, everyone in fact, and eventually left the kitchen and headed back up to his room.
Maverick could see the hurt in Eden and Noah’s eyes, but none of them seemed to know what to do about it. He got their concern—hell even though Teague was a grown man, he’d always be their kid. But he thought that maybe Teague would be better served dealing with this on his own. There were some hurts that needed time and distance.
Unfortunately that’s not the way the Simons worked.
In the end, Maverick decided not to get involved. Besides, what the hell did he know about being a parent?
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay with Connor?”
They’d just arrived in Fisherman’s Landing. Maverick nodded. “Absolutely.”
“You can call me if he starts, you know, getting weird—because it happens. He’s kind of like your cousin, Teague. He shuts down and it’s really hard to get through.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got him. We bonded over sausages this morning, rem
ember?”
“I don’t know….” Her voice trailed off as she glanced around him at her brother Connor. He saw the worry and man, he wanted to be the guy to make it go away.
“Hey, I know. Honestly, I’ve got this.” He reached through the open window of her truck and kissed her. And then whispered a few things in her ear. Dirty things. Hot things that he wanted to do to her when she got back from her garage.
“You’re the devil,” she said, breathless when she pulled away from him.
“I try.”
She nodded slowly, yelling a quick goodbye to her brother and after another small hesitation, she backed out of her driveway leaving him alone with Connor. It was Sunday and her garage was closed, but she had a few things to get done. With Davis off for several days, she was behind and Maverick thought he’d help out so he’d volunteered to come along and look after her brother.
That was after he’d volunteered to help out in her garage, but Charlie had been quick to knock that idea down. She’d said they’d never get anything done and—he grinned—she would have been right.
He turned and looked down at Connor. “Okay, so we’ll shovel out this walkway and then decide on a plan of action. Sound good?”
Connor didn’t say a word, but his eyes were bright and Maverick saw the interest there. “Where does your sister keep the shovels? In the shed?”
Something changed in the boy’s expression. It was subtle, but Maverick saw it. Connor shrugged and remained silent.
Worried that he’d somehow managed to screw things up minutes after Charlie had left, he nodded to the porch.
“Can you climb through this snowdrift and make it up there?” He’d look for the shovel, no use in dragging Connor down the driveway to the shed.
Maverick watched Connor struggle over the first large drift and with a chuckle, he helped the little guy over.
And felt like a king when he got a small smile in return.
He waited until Connor was up the steps and onto the porch and then strode to the shed. It wasn’t locked, but once he got inside, he quickly figured out why. The small building was empty. As in there were a few paint cans in the corner and not much else. He closed the door and headed back down the driveway, waving at a nosy neighbor across the street. He never saw curtains drawn back so quickly.
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