Add to that, Maverick telling me that he was taking me on a date tonight, my spinning mind has kicked into overdrive. The date itself is a big deal because he's not only showing me he's serious about us, but he's going to be showing the whole town. And with a town like Pine Oak that thrives on the next biggest gossip story, we're going to be talked about for a long time. It isn't just the story of us that they're so fascinated about, don't get me wrong, they are--but it's also him. His departure from Pine Oak was talked about for years after the fact, but with him coming back and coming back somewhat famous--okay, a lot famous--he is sitting under a giant neon sign of attention.
And that terrifies me.
Our relationship is new. We're new. Even with our very long history. It's a given that with the attention he brings with him, every single second of our relationship will be stalked, whispered about by most, and analyzed by many.
I hate that.
I hate knowing that this time between us will be subjected to so much talk while people watch us with a hawk-like focus, hoping that they get to watch the fireworks.
Even though I know that we have the support of the town, I would be a fool not to be nervous. With so many people watching your new relationship, there is a lot more added pressure. I just hope that with their excitement to watch little Leighton James finally get the boy she's always loved doesn't encroach on what we're building.
He didn't tell me where we were headed tonight, but with a town this size, there aren't that many options. Unless, that is, you wanted to drive outside of town to one of the more populated areas. It wasn't like we were in the middle of nowhere, but we were more than an hour from Dallas and a good thirty plus to get to another major city.
Unless he plans on our first date being at the diner, nothing glamorous there, we were going to be driving for a while. I couldn't think of anything else that he would pick for our first date. Well, there was always the Chicken Coop, a popular local bar aptly named since there are a whole lot of chicken wire pens around outside. Don't get me wrong--I love it at the Chicken Coop, or as locals like to call it, the Coop, but it would make for a very rowdy night.
"Well, Earl, how do I look?"
He looks up from his spot in the middle of my bed and blinks at me.
"Yeah, that's how I feel too, baby."
I decided to go with something casual, that way regardless of where we ended up tonight, it should work for any situation. Be it a nice restaurant or a crowded bar.
The white lace sundress was one of the nicer ones I owned. Depending on the shoes I paired it with, it could go from fancy to casual in a blink of an eye. Tonight I went with my favorite pair of brown cowboy boots. My hair was hanging in loose curls, and aside from mascara and some lipstick, I didn't have any makeup on. Some Alex and Ani bangles on my wrists were all that was left.
It was 100 percent me, but it was also a far cry from the kind of women I know he's spent the last ten years seeing. Of course, those girls were more worried about catching the eye of a rider than they were about modesty. Self-doubt had been keeping me company since I got out of the shower and tried for almost an hour to find something to wear, but in the end I knew I would never be anything other than the woman in the mirror before me.
"You look beautiful, Leighton."
I screamed, jolting in place before spinning to look at the man now standing in my open doorway. "Jesus, Maverick. You scared the crap out of me."
His shoulders shake, but other than a few deep rumbles, he doesn't make a sound. His eyes roam from the top of my head to the tips of my boots, not missing an inch as he takes his time. The zap of arousal from his commanding gaze is so powerful it feels almost tangible.
I shift my feet, feeling the thin silk between my legs grow wet with the excitement his appraisal gives me. "If you keep looking at me like that, cowboy, the only ride we're going to have tonight is me on top of you."
His eyes close and he drops his head back. I smile to myself, not even caring if I'm egging him on. He's got his formfitting Wranglers on, this pair a deeper denim than the last. He's switched the button-down for a plain black T-shirt, his muscles straining the sleeves. His black cowboy boots have a layer of brown dust covering them, but other than that, he looks like he took a lot of time and care in looking good. Not that he has to put much effort in that.
"I wouldn't be upset about that though, in case you were wondering," I add with a wink.
When he brings his gaze back to mine, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows hard, I smile, knowing my skin is flush with the need I feel.
"You've got no idea how much it kills me to say this again, but not until I have all of you, Leigh. Not a second before then."
I want so badly to scream that he already has my heart. That he's always had my heart. He narrows his eyes and looks at me as if he knows what's going through my mind. He moves, taking the few steps needed to bring him right in front of me and looks down. Even with his hat on and the dim lighting in my room, I can see the fire blazing from his brilliant eyes.
"You're almost there, I know it, darlin', but until I no longer see any fear in your eyes, I'm not makin' my move."
"I'm not scared, not of you."
One corner of his mouth tips up. "You are."
My hair tickles my shoulders when I shake my head, denying what he's saying.
"Leighton," he says with a groan.
"I'm not scared of you, Maverick. Am I scared of the feelings I have when it comes to you? Yeah . . . but that's something that will never go away. I don't care if we're eighty years old, rockin' on that porch while our grandkids scream around us, I'll always feel it," I whisper, and reach up to cup his now-shaven cheek. "The feelings I have for you are so strong that I almost can't breathe because of them. Honey, that would make anyone scared, and that will never change. I've felt it my whole life, only I don't see it as fear. I see it as me always knowing that what we have together is the biggest kind of love two people will ever share." His eyes close and I feel his jaw work under my palm.
"Leigh," he thickly breathes, sounding pained.
"Take me out, Maverick. Stop looking at it as something negative and get used to it."
"What you're sayin'. . ." He pauses, his jaw once again ticking under my hand. I give him a smile and push my hand back into the hair that is just long enough to curl under the edges of his hat.
"No way, cowboy. You'll get those words the second you're back inside of me with your naked body moving on top of mine and I can feel your heart beatin' against my chest and not a moment sooner."
He groans, the sound low as it echoes around us. I roll up to my toes and give him a brief kiss before leaving him standing in the middle of my bedroom. I should feel bad about pushing him, but he never had to wait for my heart, that has always and would always belong to him. He needs to realize that. Even if my words that he's never needed to wait for my love bring him shock.
It shouldn't, though. Not when that love's always been his to have.
23
MAVERICK
"Stay the Night" by Jordan Gray
The whole drive out of Pine Oak I've been replaying her words in my mind.
She didn't say the words, but the meaning was clear.
She loves me.
Fuck me, her admission leaves no room for doubt--she's always loved me. Even after I purposely hurt her deeply, that love never died. God, what did I do to deserve this woman? And more important, how did I ever live this long without feeling what her love could do to me? I feel as if every broken, hollow inch of me has been healed, and fuck, she hasn't even fully said it. It was implied, no doubt about it, but if I feel this rush of healing power just from her alluding to it, what will happen when I finally hear those three words from her mouth?
"You're thinkin' pretty loud over there," Leighton quips.
I reach over the console and take her hand, lacing our fingers together. Her hand flexes and moves so that the hold is tighter. After she stills, I bring our hands
up and press my lips against the smooth skin, breathing in her scent.
"You've given me a lot to ponder, darlin'. No doubt my thoughts are loud when I've been repeatin' your words since you walked out of that girly as hell bedroom of yours."
"Girly as hell, huh?" She laughs.
"Leigh, the only place that has more purple than that might be the PieHole. Hell, I'm startin' to think that cat/beast of yours wasn't tryin' to figure out how to eat me whole the other night, but instead tryin' to tell me man to man, he needs some more testosterone in that place."
I see, out of the corner of my eye, her throw her head back. Her fingers tighten around mine as she lets out a loud belly laugh.
"It's not that bad," she gasps between laughter. "Just a little purple."
"Just a little, she says," I mumble.
"Okay, so maybe a little more than a little. I like it, it made me happy."
"Made?" I question.
"Well, it still does. I'm thinkin' a little update wouldn't hurt."
"It's you, Leigh. Don't change a bit of that. I'm just pullin' your leg, anyway."
I hear her shift, her arm moving, but she doesn't let her hand slip from mine. "I meant what I said about wanting you at my place, Maverick. I don't want you back at that place." When she pauses, I glance over and see the look of disgust on her beautiful face. Before I can open my mouth and address it, though, she continues. "The second I said it, I knew that's where you belong. The hell with the timeline that a normal relationship might hold, we are far from normal and you know it. I want my house to feel like a home again. No, I need it to. I'm starting to realize I stopped feeling like that long before I lost my parents. After all, they say home is where your heart is."
"God, Leigh."
"I mean it, Maverick. No expectations. If you still want to bring in something temporary while you're building our future, then do it, but until then you're under my girly as hell roof."
I take a quick second to close my eyes before focusing back on the road, her words washing over me. "I told you earlier I would be there, Leighton. I just want you to be sure."
"I know what you said, but you also said we would figure out the rest later. I don't need to figure anything out. I know where I belong, I know where you belong, and that place is one and the same."
"What was that you said earlier about being too soon?" I hedge, pissed that I'm actually giving her an out. Even if it's an out I pray she doesn't take. I don't think I could stomach it if she realized it wasn't somethin' she wanted somewhere down the road. "I have to know you understand what you're sayin' here. Full disclosure, darlin', it makes me feel like the king of the fuckin' jungle to hear you say you want me in your home, but playin' devil's advocate here--you have to look at this from every angle."
"Yeah," she snaps. "And every angle begins and ends with you."
"What happened to thinkin' things were happenin' too soon?"
She snorts. Not even a ladylike one either. Deep, throaty, and full of fuckin' sass. And it shoots through me from heart to crotch.
"Let me break this down for you, cowboy. Twenty-six long as hell years. Sixteen of those I spent weavin' dreams all centered on you. Ten of those I spent prayin' those dreams would find their way back to me. I might not have realized what I was doin', but not once in all that time did I ever come close to finding the kind of contentment I've felt since you blew back into town. Even through all the emotional punches I got slapped since that moment with you did the contentment dim. Deep down, with you back, I knew that the past twenty-six-years were going to finally be worth something. We were rushin' to this point before our minds had even had a chance to realize what Fate had in store for us. There is never going to be a minute that ticks by that could be too soon when we have a past as deep as ours, drivin' us blindly to where we were meant to stop."
"You came to this conclusion pretty quick, Leigh. Don't get me wrong, what you're sayin' is somethin' I fuckin' want, but it's only been a day since you really understood everything that happened. Everything I did, why I did it, and most importantly, why in doin' all that I stole ten years from us."
"Yeah, but it wasn't you that stole that time. You had no control over the life that you were born in. The pain you felt that meant those ten years were stolen. And, Maverick"--she pauses and squeezes my hand hard--"those years were stolen from you too."
I swallow the lump in my throat and tighten the hand steering the truck. God, this girl brings me to my knees.
"You said we would talk about this later, but the hell with that. Later just means more time gone, and I won't let any more time get stolen when we are finally getting our chance. I want you with me. If you feel like it's too soon, then get your temporary home in place. I'm tellin' you now, though, it would be a waste of time and effort when you know just as well as I do that you only belong in one place."
I pull the truck onto the shoulder, no longer content to have this conversation when I can't look at her. After throwing the truck into park, I turn my head. It's not fully dark out, so it's no trouble to see her clearly, and what I see is like a punch to the gut. Her chest is heaving with each harsh intake of air she pulls through her lungs, the harshness of her releasing it coming out like a pant. The color on her cheeks is high, but not because she's embarrassed. No, this is because she's on a tear. A tear to make me see what she believes true with unquestionable certainty.
"I'll unpack the duffel, darlin'," I answer hoarsely.
Her whole face lights up with those five words. I shift and regard her chin as it wobbles and she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. Jesus Christ. Giving her that, what I wanted just as much as she did, undoubtedly was the right decision. I feel it with the pressure that I've always had around my chest easing up. I believe it when I see her curls bob as she gives me a curt nod. I feel it when she moves, pulls herself over the console, and brings the tip of her nose to mine.
"Head over boots, cowboy. Head. Over. Boots."
They're not the words she alluded to earlier, but they might as well be. I move quickly, shocking a squeak out of her that quickly turns to a moan when I haul her over the center console and into my lap. We're a mess of tangled arms and tongues a second later. My hat is knocked off my head when she pushes both of her hands into my hair, pulling me so hard that our teeth knock together. My heart hammers in my chest. I'm vaguely aware of the sounds of traffic passing by us.
What I wouldn't give to lay her down and sink into her body, and that need just amps up with every slide of her wet tongue against mine. I'm not sure how much longer I'm going to last, not when I feel like denying my need to be inside of her might very well kill me.
My hand moves down her back, and when I hit her hip, I realize that with her position half on and half off the console, it would be so easy to sink my fingers into her body. The scent of her arousal is swirling around the cab, and I have to squeeze my eyes tight when I feel my balls pull up and the wetness from my cock wetting my boxer briefs. I curl my fingers in the soft flesh at her hip, praying that I'm strong enough to resist what I crave.
She whimpers and I'm honestly not sure if it's from my hold on her body or because she's feeling the same need I am. It kills me to do it, but I break away from her mouth with a groan. Her eyes are still closed when I lean my head back on the headrest and stare at her. Without opening them, her tongue comes out and licks her red, swollen lips. The sound that escapes her mouth after that is nothing short of sensual.
When she finally opens her eyes the fear that I've seen in them since I got back home a month ago isn't anywhere to be found. Pure, unadulterated love is shining bright.
I'm going to get those damn words out of her. She might believe she wouldn't give me them until our bodies are naked and fused tight, but I know I won't make it that long.
Even if it kills me, I'm getting them before that.
When I watch her shimmy back down to her seat, the skirt of her dress riding up and giving me a glimpse of her white panties, I reall
y do think I might die before then.
"What's wrong?" I question when Leigh returns to our table after a quick bathroom break.
"Nothing," she mumbles at the table, not looking me in the eye.
"The fuck, darlin'?"
"It's nothing, Maverick. Just leave it alone and let's finish our dessert."
She picks up her fork and takes her sweet-ass time getting a bite of the chocolate cake that had arrived while she was gone. I wait, silently, hoping for some sort of a clue to why her mood went from blissfully happy to sullen in a span of five minutes.
I open my mouth to press harder for answers, but when I hear the sound of catty giggling behind her, I shift my attention to the duo of women coming from the bathroom. They're looking at the back of Leigh's head, snickering and whispering to each other, but they're doing a shit job if they think it isn't obvious who they're talking about.
"You know them?" I ask her with a bite in my voice.
She straightens her shoulders, and even though she's trying to put on a brave front, it's clear as fucking day that she's trying her damn hardest to become invisible as they get closer.
Looking back at them, I can't help but notice the differences between them and Leighton. We're in a fancy Italian place just outside of Dallas, but it isn't fancy enough for the shit they have on. The blond hair on both of their heads is just about the only thing they could come close to having in common with Leigh. The shit they have on is just as tight as it is short, their sparkly dresses leaving nothing to the imagination. I steal a glance down and see the ridiculously high heels they're prancing on. They look like hookers, but judging by the amount of diamonds dripping off them, they're more likely just rich sluts.
To my complete shock, they walk right up to the table and stop.
"Can I help you?" I question, annoyance fueled by my worry over Leigh making my words come out uninviting and harsh.
"Are you--" thing one starts to say, but her irritating as fuck giggles start back up again and she just ends up smiling.
"What my friend here, Tamera, is trying to ask is, are you Maverick Davis?" The other one cuts in, leaning forward a bit so her ample cleavage pushes together even farther. "The Maverick Davis?"