Taming A Maverick (The Sterling Shore Series #11)

by C. M. Owens

  Taming A Maverick

  The Sterling Shore Series

  by

  USA Today Bestselling Author

  C.M. Owens

  Taming A Maverick

  Copyright © 2017 by C.M. Owens

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without express written permission of the author. This eBook is licensed for your enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people.

  The story in this book is the property of the author, in all media both physical and digital. No one, except the owner of this property, may reproduce, copy or publish in any medium any individual story or part of this novel without the expressed permission of the author of this work.

  This is dedicated to the Sterling Shore lovers, and just to you. Thank you for making this series what it has been.

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  Prologue

  SALEM – Age 13

  “Take the banana and bring it with us.”

  “I really just want to go play,” I tell my mother, trying my best not to make her mad.

  She sighs before pinching the bridge of her nose.

  “You didn’t wear your training bra today. You didn’t wear the clothes I laid out for you, and you didn’t take your purse. I swear, Salem, you’d think you were a boy instead of a girl. You have to start playing by the rules, or so help me…”

  She lets her voice trail off, and I swallow hard while hiding my grease-stained hands. So what if I’d rather tinker with cars like my brothers? So what if I don’t like dresses? Is it really the end of the world?

  I swear she’s a drama queen.

  I always hate these stupid talks. And now she’s married to another jerk who loves leaving me at home with some random nanny, while he whisks her away for extravagant weekends.

  Not that I mind. At least I’m not subjected to her never-ending lectures when she’s absent. But the nannies act like I’m an idiot kid who can’t do anything without supervision, and they watch me closer than she does.

  It’s annoying.

  “I don’t think I’m a boy. I know I’m a girl. I just don’t like purses or bras.”

  She rolls her eyes, giving me a pointed look thereafter. “Sweetie, you need to learn this stuff. Sex is important to be educated on. And I’d appreciate you not making me a grandmother so soon.”

  My stomach roils at the thought. Sex? How did we get on this conversation? Did I miss something? We were talking about bras!

  “I’m too young to talk about this,” I whisper, feeling my whole body burning with embarrassment.

  “Your head thinks you are, but your body has a different opinion. You’re already getting curvy, and Mother Nature has now bestowed upon you every woman’s curse. That’s why the school sent you home. You and I discussed this, yet you still freaked out. Ladies don’t freak out and tell the entire class they’re bleeding to death.”

  I swallow harder, already humiliated. Does she have to always rub my nose in embarrassing moments?

  “Take the condom,” she says, pointing to a black package on the counter, “and the banana, then follow me. There are lessons you need to learn now. I’ll make an appointment tomorrow for birth control.”

  Make an appointment for what? And what the hell is birth control?

  ***

  MAVERICK – Age 13

  “So your parents are splitting up for real this time?” Corbin asks me as I recline back on the bleachers of the almost empty stadium.

  “Yeah,” I say, not taking my eyes off the pretty distractions in short skirts.

  “That sucks.”

  “Not really. Less arguing. No more drama.”

  He doesn’t say anything else, because there’s not really much left to say on the subject. It’s not a shocker that Dad and Mom didn’t work out.

  “Did you see that new chick Dane started hanging out with today?” he asks instead.

  “The cute blonde? Yeah. She’s cool. I think she’s Tria’s sister.”

  He gives me a weird look. “Tria has a sister?”

  “Edward screwed the maid,” I point out, shrugging. “Rain’s not the untouchable princess snob that Tria is, though, at least not from what I could tell. And Tria pissed Dane off by having everyone make fun of Rain for being the maid’s daughter. You know Dane hates that kind of shit. Tria might lose her perfectly popular spot if she pisses him off too much.”

  He laughs his ass off. “Yeah right. Like Tria is ever going to be scared of anyone. She won’t back down.”

  Bored with talking about girl drama, I remember something that is actually important.

  “Dude, I got the new Madden game,” I announce while we continue to watch the cheerleaders stretch.

  “Sweet. What time should I be there?”

  “Anytime. Mom said it was cool to invite everyone over.”

  ***

  SALEM – Age 16

  “I need you to stop causing scenes, Salem. Kevin is still furious about the tantrum you threw at his last party.”

  I swear it’s not natural to hate anyone as much as I hate her.

  “Kevin is a pervert!” I hiss, shuddering at the memories of what he said to me.

  “He says you misunderstood him,” my bitch mother announces as though I’m being melodramatic. She knows I’m being serious. She probably has the whole thing recorded on one of her many spy cams, but she’ll withhold it until she can milk him for the most money.

  “You’ve known him for five minutes, and you believe him over me?” I growl, daring her to choose his side—to choose his money over me.

  “I believe there are times and places for everything, and you shouting out to the entire party that your stepfather is a dirty pervert isn’t the way you handle these things.”

  “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?” I ask her, tears teetering on the edges of my lids. “You knew he was a sick freak, and you married him thinking he’d make a move on me.”

  She glares at me like I’ve crossed some line, but I just keep the challenge in my eyes. “I swear, Salem, he won’t touch you. I won’t let him. But you have to trust me to handle this.”

  Talking to my mother always makes me sick at my stomach.

  “I don’t trust you. How could I?”

  She cups my chin, forcing me to look at her. “With this, Salem, you can trust me. And you can be sure that he’ll be destroyed when we’re gone. Just like he deserves. Trust. Me.”

  ***

  MAVERICK – Age 16

  “Maverick!” Mom yelps, quickly shielding her eyes while Chloe squeals and rips the covers over her head.

  “Shit, Mom!” I yell, scrambling to get the sheet wrapped around my hips.

  “Damn it, Maverick!” Mom gripes, her hand still over her eyes. “Get her out of here and get some clothes on.”

  I groan as she shuts the door, and then I start laughing when I see how pale and scared Chloe looks while poking her head out from under the covers.

  “You said she wouldn’t be here!” Chloe hisses, and I just laugh harder while putting my hands behind my head.

  “You said you wouldn’t car
e if she was,” I remind the fake badass, grinning over at her as she glares at me and jumps up.

  “My mother is going to kill me, Maverick. This isn’t funny.”

  I continue laughing, taking my time to get on my clothes. “We’re practically adults,” I say, pulling a shirt on over my head.

  “I’ll remind you of that when my dad tries to kill you like a man.”

  I burst out laughing while she finishes up, and then I pull her to me to give her a goodbye kiss.

  “Call me?” she asks, her irritation with me already falling away.

  “Nope,” I tell her, giving her one last kiss. “We talked about this. I’m too busy for a girlfriend. I’m taking dual enrollment classes so I can get college credits in high school, but I have to keep my grades up. Then there’s football, basketball, and baseball…you know.”

  She bats her lashes before rolling her eyes. “You’ll call, Maverick. They always do,” she says on her way out the door.

  I smirk before tugging my shoes on. Chloe is hot, but not hot enough to keep me interested through the drama. No fucking drama. And girls are full of drama.

  I jog down the stairs, and then I stumble to a halt when I see Dad. Mom never invites Dad over. Hell, she can’t stay in the same room as him.

  “Dad,” I say, grinning as I finish the stairs to reach him.

  He bites back a grin when Mom says something I can’t hear, and then she storms off, leaving a blaze of fury in her wake.

  “Your mother called and said she just caught you and your girlfriend together. I saw her leaving. Macintosh girl?” he asks.

  I nod, still grinning, and then say, “She’s not my girlfriend, though.”

  He laughs to himself, but smothers it when Mom growls—actually growls—loud enough for us to hear her all the way from the kitchen. Dad clears his throat, trying and failing not to smile.

  “Think we need to talk,” he says, motioning with his head for me to follow him to the den—away from my mother’s ears.

  As soon as we’re tucked inside, he leans against the back of the couch, and starts talking.

  “Your mother wants me to talk you out of having sex.”

  “Figures,” I say with a shrug. “You gonna to try?”

  He laughs while shaking his head. “No. I’m not stupid. I was sixteen once. I am going to give you the safe-sex speech again. But first, let’s talk about women.”

  My grin grows. “Hell yes. Talk away.”

  “None of them are the same,” he says, and I nod in agreement, silently ticking off the differences: blondes, brunettes, redheads… “Some of them are looking for fun, just like you are right now. Some of them are curious, just like you once were. But some of them…”

  He blows out a harsh breath before seriousness sparks in his gaze.

  “Don’t be an idiot, and never be a dick,” he says, surprising me. That’s not where I thought this conversation was going.

  The hell?

  “What?” I ask, confused.

  “Always be upfront with them about what you want,” he continues. “Be honest. It won’t win you the prize every time, but it’ll keep someone from getting hurt. Find a woman who wants what you want and nothing more. If you ever break a woman’s heart…”

  His voice trails off, and he clears his throat before he can continue. “Well, it’ll make you feel like shit. Unless you know for sure you’re ready for something real, don’t find a woman that expects something real. Understood?”

  Something tells me we’re not really talking about me anymore, but I nod anyway. Whatever I need to do to get away from this weird side of my dad. He’s the cool one. Mom’s the serious one.

  We have a system, and he’s totally throwing it off center.

  “Sure.”

  “Good. Now, make sure the girl isn’t just telling you what you want to hear. Sometimes they say one thing, but they mean another. Some will try to tame you, make you think you want what they want. Hell, I think most girls just want a project, so they find a man they want to change into something else.”

  There’s my dad. Thank God. I was starting to worry he was turning into Mom.

  I laugh, shaking my head. “Why the hell do they want someone if all they want to do is change them?”

  “Because, Mav, women are the most complicated fucking things in the world.”

  ***

  SALEM – Age 18

  “Men are the simplest things in the world,” Mom says, smiling down at a check. “Always wear makeup—no bare faces allowed. Make sure you only wear the sexiest lingerie. Dress up at all times, even before going to bed. Never, ever talk to them about anything negative or wrong in your life. In fact, don’t talk about yourself at all. They don’t care. Always listen to all they say, and pretend to be fascinated. Pour on a little Southern charm for an added bonus, and they’ll eat out of the palm of your hand. They think with their dicks—not their heads. As long as they like what they see, they give up everything they own.”

  Apparently she’s not listening to me, because that has nothing to do with the question I asked.

  Looks like the child support just came in for one of my brothers. Or maybe it’s a new settlement she’s conned her way into. Who knows? All I know is that nothing besides money makes her smile like that.

  “So, do you think it’s too soon?” I ask, reminding her that I actually came to her for a reason.

  She puts the check down, and she turns to face me. “Too soon for sex? No. The boy is poor, though, and you wasted your one-time V card on a man who will never be anything more than a local high school coach at most. With a face like yours, Salem, you should be focusing on boys like Cameron; he’s going places.”

  I shudder at the thought of that dick. “Cameron is a major jerk. James is sweet. I think…I think I might love him. Or at least, I think I could love him. One day.”

  My stupid smile comes up as I think back to how gentle he was with me. But my mother’s cold eyes snap me out of my trance when I see the disapproval rolling off her in heavy waves.

  “You can easily fall in love with him, but he’s never going to love you, darlin’. You’re just too pretty. Pretty girls don’t get to fall in love. Pretty girls are the ones the guys want—sometimes for a really long time—just to show off or brag about. Pretty girls get screwed. Not loved.”

  Which makes perfect sense…said no one ever.

  “Too pretty?” I ask dubiously. “To fall in love?”

  “Salem, like I said, men are simple. They’re not like us. They have no loyalty, no virtues, no honesty…eventually, they’ll break you the first chance they get. They’re only good for one thing. Well, two, but only one thing that sticks with you—money. If you want something nice, you have to give them something nice. On occasion, you’re going to enjoy yourself. But that’s it, baby. It’s only ever physical. Let them into your body, but never into your head or your heart. Don’t give them that power.”

  I shake my head, biting back a few choice words I’d like to deal her. Why did I even bother coming to her? I knew better.

  I keep thinking that one day she’ll start being a normal mother.

  “Not all of them are like that. James is good. He’s so, so good. He wouldn’t hurt me. And he’s coming over in an hour, so I need to get ready. Please be nice.”

  I’m just ready for this conversation to be over. But James…James can get me out of here—away from her. We’ll figure out a way to take Sean with us.

  We can leave this small town and all the constant rumors that my mother has tagged to our names. I can move past the judgmental eyes that all think I’m no better than her.

  They don’t know me. I’m never going to be like her.

  I don’t know why she insists on moving back here after each breakup. This town hates us. I’ve changed schools like most girls change underwear, and this is the one I hated the most. I’m just glad I’ve finally graduated.

  Now onto college. With James.

  James is real.
He made my body feel things that I couldn’t have felt without the concern and care he put into every gentle touch.

  “Sure,” Mom says, seeming lost in thought. “But if he’s coming over, then I need you to run and grab some fresh fruit. You know I like to serve fresh fruit to all guests before dinner. Hurry up and get ready, then run and grab it.”

  Rarely ever does she relent, so I take this as a blessing and run upstairs to grab some clothes. James will prove her wrong.

  ***

  SALEM – same day

  Finally, I’m finished. Mom had about ten errands to add to my list before I even managed to buy her stupid fruit.

  I drive up in her Mercedes, stopping well away from the garage. I’m too scared to park her car in the garage, because she loves each new car more than her four children. And that garage is rather narrow.

  Tyler slams the door on his way out of the house, and I give him a confused look while he stalks toward me.

  “What’s wrong with you?” I ask my brother, but he shoves me back toward the car, pushing me like he’s trying to get me out of here.

  Since he graduated and started college, he comes to visit a little less, so I’m both surprised and excited to see him, but now his anger is confusing.

  “By any chance are you dating a James?” he asks, his nose wrinkling in disgust.

  “Yeah…” I drawl, letting the word trail off.

  “Let’s go. We’ll come back later.”

  “No,” I say, jerking away from him. “What’s wrong? Did something happen to James?”

  He grabs for me again, but I break free, pushing him away while racing toward the door. He trips and curses when he falls, giving me more distance from him. I barge through the door, racing through the house, just as Mom walks out of her room, tying her silky black robe together.

  James comes stumbling out behind her, his shirt clutched in his right hand while he frantically tries to do his pants back together. Mom just stares at me, an unreadable look on her face, as tears waver on my lids.