by Aliyah Burke
believe she named him after me. “I know this has to be hard for
you, I can’t imagine what your mother told you about me.”
“Don’t talk bad about my mother.” A sliver of warning
filled his tone.
“I’m sorry; I don’t mean for it to sound like that. I’m not
talking bad about her. I just don’t know what she has told you
about me.” Maverick watched the struggle of a young man
who desperately wanted to know his father and one who felt
betrayed by him.
“All she said was that you never came. She didn’t
slander you, at least not to my face. Do you know what it was
like for her?” he questioned.
“I don’t have any idea,” Maverick admitted.
Fists clenching, Dakota took a step forward before
stopping and visually relaxing his body. “Why did you come
down here?”
“I was told to come here in a vision,” he told his son as
he prepared himself for the scoff of disbelief.
Dakota narrowed his eyes but nodded, he knew about
vision quests. It was a part of his heritage. “Okay. And what
are you going to do now? You’re upsetting my mom by being
here.”
“I’m going to do my damnedest to make up for what
I’ve done to the both of you in the past.” Maverick stood as
there was a knock at the door. He opened it to find the pizza
guy. Taking the food; he paid for it and closed the door behind
him. “Are you sure you don’t want some?”
“Nope. I have a date.” The first smile Maverick had seen
out of Dakota crossed his face, making his eyes sparkle like
black diamonds.
“You have your mother’s smile,” Maverick blurted out
before he could stop himself. As the smile faded, Maverick
insisted. “I mean it. Your mom had that smile when I knew her
back in the town we grew up in. It didn’t appear on her face
often; but when it did, it was like the sun bursting through the
clouds.”
“Did you love her? Is that why you slept with her?”
Dakota asked.
“I don’t know if it was love, but I had strong feelings for
her,” Maverick answered honestly.
“She loved you. I remember her telling me how much in
love with you she was. How up until I was born, she would
imagine that you would come looking for her; you would
sweep her up and take her away to somewhere safe. The way
she talked about you it was like you were a knight in shinning
armor. But when you didn’t come, she felt deserted.” Dakota
straightened the sleeve on his suit.
“I overheard her and Bertha talking one day when I was
a teen about how horrible the birth had been. How she almost
died and wouldn’t be able to have any more children. But she
never held it against me. My mom loved me from the very
beginning. I don’t want her to feel like that again.”
Maverick easily read between the lines. “I don’t want to
hurt her, or you. I hope you can believe that.” I can’t believe she
had such a hard time of giving birth, and to know she can’t have any
more children and the one she had wasn’t under preferable
circumstances. What did I do to you, Tempest?
“Time will tell,” Dakota said emotionlessly. “I have to
go.”
“Thank you, for coming to see me. I want to get to know
you; can we go out for dinner or something like that?”
Maverick stood, wrote something on a piece of paper, and
walked to the door. “Call me if you make a decision; it’s my
cell and I have it on 24/7.”
“We’ll see.” At the door, Dakota turned to the man
beside him. “Well, um, well, goodbye.” Finally he just reached
out his hand to Maverick.
“Goodbye, Dakota. Come back anytime.” Maverick
wanted to hug his son, but would graciously settle for a
handshake.
Sure strides carried the young man down the hall
without a backward glance and out of sight. Maverick closed
the door once he could no longer see his son. This time when
he was alone in the room, he allowed the tears to fall.
He cried for the twenty-one years that had been stolen
from him and his family. He cried over what he put Tempest
through and he cried because he was making progress in
getting to know his child.
Around seven-thirty that night, Maverick showered and
dressed to go to the bar. He had to find a way to get through
the protective barrier Tempest had around her. Not just her
heart, but every inch of her was protected.
Luckily for him, motorcycles were easier to park than
other vehicles. If he’d believed the place was busy last night,
then tonight was off the charts. As he opened the door and
stepped inside, his observant gaze took in all the men and
women having a great time.
Moving through the throng of people, Maverick sidled
up to the bar. He noticed the women around him watched him
with open curiosity and plenty invitations. In the past, he
might have flirted with any or all of them, for that was the kind
of man he’d been. But now, all he wanted was the rich,
dappled-brown eyes of Tempest on him. And that woman was
serving some guys near him.
The man closest to Maverick was talking to her. He
narrowed his eyes but held his peace. He’d wanted her before
he’d even known who she was; and now that he knew she was
the mother of his child…well, that made him even more
possessive.
“I’m just saying, babe, that a wet T-shirt contest would
bring in a bunch of customers. Especially if you were in it,” the
man said.
Maverick didn’t like the direction this was going. He
took in her attire. She wore a pair of snug-fitting leather pants
that hung around her full hips and a fuchsia tee that showed
off a bit of her belly; not much, but enough to attract attention
to the smooth walnut-colored skin. Her hair fell around her
face, framing it gently.
Tempest shook her head. “No, thanks. I don’t want to
have that. And I definitely wouldn’t be competing.”
The man licked his lips and leered. “How’s about you
put on a private show for me and my boys here?” He reached
across the bar to grab her wrist.
Maverick growled low in his throat. Tempest was his.
Astonished at that revelation, he hesitated for a moment. When
did she become mine?
There was no time for him to dwell on that, for the
uncouth man holding her refused to let her go when she
tugged. Maverick stood and intervened. His eyes were alive
with black flames.
Stepping between two of the friends, Maverick reached
out and gripped the third man’s wrist, applying enough
pressure to get him to let go of Tempest. “It’s not polite to grab
women,” he warned in a lethal voice.
“Let go of me, man!” the man snapped. “This has
nothing to do with you!”
Tempest stood there and watched Maverick come to her
rescue. Sh
e’d known the second he’d sat down at the bar, but
the men she’d been serving had been taking up her attention.
Now he was the one to save her from that clammy touch.
“I think you need to apologize to her,” Maverick
continued as if the man hadn’t said a thing.
“I’m not apologizing to her. I was just joking.” The man
tugged harder again, but to no avail. He wasn’t getting free.
Tightening his grip on the wrist, Maverick suggested in
a low voice, “I think you need to apologize to the lady.”
“Ouch, you are hurting me. She’s just a bartender. What
the hell do you care, man?” The question came as tears filled
that man’s eyes.
His two friends did nothing to help him, obviously not
wishing to tackle the large man who had intervened on the
bartender’s behalf. The bar had begun to fall silent as everyone
watched bouncers approach the tall Native American who had
interceded on Tempest’s behalf. Maverick pulled the man up,
dropping his wrist and holding onto his shoulder.
“That bartender is the mother of my child.” The words
were delivered crystal clear and just about everyone heard him,
especially the staff. “Now apologize.” It was a command.
The man did just that. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to
offend you,” he blurted out.
Maverick cut his eyes over to Tempest who nodded
slightly at the man. Then he released his grip on him and
allowed him to drop heavily back to his seat. The man rubbed
his shoulder and glared at Maverick. The bouncers tapped the
men on the shoulders and escorted all three of them out.
“Come here,” Maverick ordered Tempest.
She moved as close to him as the bar allowed and stared
at him with amazement in her eyes. “Thank you,” she
murmured. “For that.”
“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” Maverick asked,
reaching for her wrist.
The slightest touch of his skin upon hers made her
tremble. “I’m fine. Excuse me; I have to get back to work.”
Tugging slightly on her arm, she tried to get her arm back but
he held it instead. His thumb moved gently across the smooth
inside skin of her wrist.
“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you,” he promised her
in a low voice.
“I don’t have the ability to be hurt anymore,” she
snapped, not liking her body’s reaction to his touch. “You saw
to that.” Tempest ignored the flash of pain in his gaze and
jerked her hand free.
He shook his head. “That was just nasty.”
“I’m sorry you expected me to fall willingly into your
arms, like most women would. But I’m not like that.” Tempest
turned away only to stop and face him again. “But I do thank
you for your help. Any drinks you have tonight are on the
house.”
“What if I don’t want a drink? What if I want a date
instead?” Maverick blurted out over the noise, causing it to
drop considerably again.
Tempest saw the way her employees were watching her.
Mili was nodding in encouragement. Putting her dark eyes on
the chiseled physique of the man who had given her Dakota,
she tilted her head. “You want a date with me?”
I want so much more than that. “Yes. I don’t want free
drinks; I want a date with you. You, Tempest. You can’t tell me
we have nothing in common; you are the mother of my child.”
“One date?”
“For starters.”
Tempest allowed herself to ogle his body; he stood there
so proud and strong. Maverick was dressed in blue jeans, those
black boots, and a white tee shirt that offset his bronzed skin
coloring so beautifully. “One date,” she conceded.
Half of his kissable mouth turned up into a smile.
“Wonderful. Tomorrow?”
“Sure,” she agreed.
“Perfect,” he stated as his large body sat back down on
the stool. Pulling some money out of his wallet he slid it across
the bar at her. “I’ll have a Coke.”
“What are you doing? I thought you were leaving,” she
stuttered, suddenly nervous.
“Nope. I’m staying until closing. I’ll pick you up around
two tomorrow.” Pushing the money closer, he sent her a
predatory grin. “Plain Coke.”
Biting her lip, Tempest got him his drink, sliding it
across the smooth finish. “Here you go; no charge.” Then she
was gone, moving down the counter to tend other patrons.
Maverick’s glass never went empty but Tempest kept
her distance. He could tell the other workers wanted to ask her
what he’d meant by his blatant admission. But she shook off
their questions and stayed focused on her work.
It was after two-thirty in the morning before the place
was empty aside from Tempest, Mili, and Maverick. Mili
finished up sweeping the floor while Tempest cleaned behind
the bar and did some inventory.
When Tempest had announced it was closing, everyone
had groaned but began leaving. Last call had been made much
earlier, so clean up was relatively easy. Maverick had merely
drunk his Coke and watched people leave.
Only when two bouncers approached him had he
reacted. He’d cast a glance back towards Tempest, who’d sent
the men a nod of approval. So the men hadn’t bothered him
and had made certain everyone else had left in an orderly
fashion.
“You know you can’t make this a habit,” Tempest said
as she ran a dry rag over the counter, making it gleam.
“Can’t make what a habit?” Maverick asked,
deliberately being obtuse.
“Staying here all night. Don’t you have something more
important to do?” Turning her back on him, she ran a critical
eye over the bottles before her, taking stock.
Maverick allowed his eyes to travel all over her body.
She stood with most of her weight on her left leg. Her stance
allowed the leather of her pants to form even tighter to her
derrière. She had a beautiful hourglass shape, one he longed to
explore and get to know on an up close and very personal
level.
With a quick wink to Mili, he vaulted effortlessly over
the bar to land silently behind her. “I don’t have anything more
important to do.” He allowed his eyes to move over her one
more time, trying to control the insistent jerking of his swollen
cock inside his pants. Maverick had to give her credit; she’d
only jumped a small bit.
“What are you doing?”
“Turn around,” he spoke in a low, authoritative voice.
Slowly, Tempest complied with his order. “What? I’m
really tired and want to get in bed.”
His eyes twinkled. “Is that an offer?”
Tempest blushed. “No!” She stepped back until her butt
hit the shelving’s edge. Her pink tongue snuck out to wet her
dry lips as he advanced closer. He smells so damn good!
Maverick stopped before her. There was barely enough
light between them to be considered legal. “I want a fai
r
chance, Tempest.” His large frame eclipsed her shorter one. “I
want a chance to get to know you, to be a part of yours and
Dakota’s lives. I want to explain what happened and I want to
know what his childhood was like.”
Hardening her heart and emotions to his plea, she said,
“I’m not part of this deal. We can talk about his childhood
tomorrow, but I don’t want to constantly relive what happened
to me.”
“I don’t want you to relive it, I want to try and
understand what I missed. And I disagree. You are very much
part of this deal.” One powerful hand cupped her cheek
making sure she looked up at him. His thumb caressed her
lower lip as he mumbled in a low voice, “Nimitawa ktelo.”
“What did you just say?” Tempest asked as his thumb
delivered a feeling through her that she’d believed was long
past. All he did was shake his head silently.
Eight
Taking a deep breath, Tempest ran her hand over her
face, tugged on the hem of her shirt, and opened her front door.
The sight that greeted her kicked her pulse high.
Standing on the other side of the door was the man
she’d agreed to go out with, his muscular body poured into
another pair of jeans, these dark blue. His defined torso was
shrink-wrapped by a hunter-green tee shirt. Dark sunglasses
covered his black eyes and those same black boots were on his
feet.
“Hello,” he uttered in a sexy voice as he removed his
sunglasses, allowing her eyes to meet his.
“Hi,” Tempest said quickly. Every time I look at him, I can
feel myself weakening. No one has a right to be that fine.
“You look beautiful,” he told her as he looked her over.
She wore blue jeans and an eggplant-colored tank top. On her
feet was a nice pair of sandals.
Her eyes narrowed briefly but all she said was, “Thank
you.”
“Ready to go?” His voice was deep and it flowed over
her body, permeating her soul.
Swallowing hard to regain control of her wayward
emotions, Tempest shook her head. “I’m not getting on that
thing,” she said, pointing at his bike.
One jet black brow rose. “Why not?”
“No way. I’m taking my Envoy. You can ride with me or
take your bike, alone.” Tempest crossed her arms and waited
for him to decide.
“I’ll ride with you then,” he responded as his eyes flared
with passion. “Are you afraid of motorcycles?” he wondered as
