Leigh makes a noise that sounds a whole hell of a lot like a whimper, the sound so low I almost miss it.
What the fuck?
"I am," I respond, not looking away from Leigh until the chick opens her mouth again. The sticky sweet voice is as high as a mouse.
"I'm Veronica, by the way," she continues. Like I give a fuck.
Not wanting to do something to embarrass Leigh, especially when I'm not sure what's got her upset to begin with, I bite my tongue and answer politely. "Nice to meet y'all."
Thing one, whatever her name was, moves closer, pushing into Leigh and making her fork clatter onto the plate. Her head shoots up at the sound, looking around the restaurant with wild eyes before stopping on my face.
"Fuck this," I grumble, tossing my napkin on the table and leaning back. "Excuse me, but could you have a little respect?" The chick rolls her eyes, not moving an inch. I look from her to her friend and then back again. "Back away. Now."
This time she moves, but barely, and only because her friend pulls her away.
"We just wanted to stop by and give you this," Victoria, Vicki, whatever her name was says, holding out a piece of paper. I stare at it, but only when she starts to jam it into my face do I reach up and take it. "We weren't sure how much time you had here in town, but if you want to have some fun, we would love to show you how a real lady can rock your world." When she says the last part, she looks down at Leighton like she's some sort of diseased animal.
"A real lady?" I ask incredulously. Leighton's eyes narrow as she regards me. I look from her up to these bitches and raise my brow. "Are you trying to imply that my woman isn't a real lady?" I seethe. I hear Leigh gasp, but fuck if I know what's gotten her heckles up now. I don't look away from them, hoping like hell they can see how pissed I am.
"Well," the giggling one says, still fuckin' giggling, and looks down at Leigh. "I mean, look at her."
She can't be serious. I glance at the other one, Vanessa or whatever, but get only more pissed than I was when it's written all over her face that she thinks the same. Opening the paper, I see a hotel name, room, and a phone number written down. I blink a few times, not even believing the nerve of these two.
Leaning back in my seat, I shift my scrutiny and scan my eyes over Leighton's face. I can't tell if she's pissed, but she is definitely upset by their words.
"Let me ask you, what makes you think I don't already have a real lady?"
Their lips curl in disgust. Both of them roll their eyes with a huff. It almost looks like something they coordinated in advance. Vapid bitches.
"She's wearing old, dirty boots and something that I bet she bought at the discount mall," the one closer to Leigh says smartly with another roll of her eyes.
Vanessa bats her ridiculously false eyelashes. "I think what Tamera means is that you're clearly used to women more like us and we didn't want to leave without making sure you knew that you have options. We would hate for someone like you to end up with, well . . . options is what we wanted to give you."
I lean forward, pulling my wallet out and snagging a few bills. More than enough to cover our dinner and leave a more than generous tip. Flipping their proffered paper around between my fingers, I look up and smile. Leigh remains silent, and I know she recognizes my fake sincerity.
"In my book, ladies, my princess always wears boots. You two have no clue what type of women I'm used to, but let me assure you, it has never been the type of woman that would rather look like a two-bit whore than a . . . what did you call it? A real lady? A real lady wouldn't be caught dead outside the house wearing something a hooker would have in her closet. A real lady doesn't have to show off her body, because all she has to do is smile and men will drop at her feet to give her the world. This woman, my woman, is as real as it gets and you two would be lucky to have just an ounce of what she does."
I stand, towering over them, and reach my free hand out for Leigh. She takes it with no hesitation and I pull her into my body. Her soft curves pressing into my side dims some of my anger. With the paper they had given me between two fingers, I reach forward and sink it to the bottom of my water glass.
"With all due respect, you can take your offer and fuck right off."
They sputter and gasp. I pick my hat up off the chair that I had hooked it on before we sat down, and place it on my head. Turning at the same time, the people at the tables around us start clapping. I ignore it, but Leigh just presses her head into my chest. Leighton keeps pace with me all the way out of the restaurant, even though I know, in my anger, it can't be easy. I help her up into the truck, pulling the seat belt across her body silently. Right when it clicks into place, her tiny hand folds under my chin and tips my head up.
"I lov--" she starts, tears in her eyes, but I interrupt her instantly when I realize what she is about to say.
"Don't you dare give me the words I want and have the memory of this moment tainted with that bullshit you just had to sit through. You hold them tight and let me get us home, baby. Let me get us home."
I don't even waste a second before pressing my lips to hers. The contact is harsh with the quickness that I move to erase the space between us. Everything that just happened in there vanishes. I feel her wet tears move between our faces and I move my hands to the back of her neck, pulling her closer. I take a deep pull of air through my nose, our closed mouths still pressed tightly together, and with her words banging around my body, I feel like I might add some fuckin' tears of my own.
We're both breathing heavily when I pull back. Moving my hands, I clear the tears from her cheeks with my thumbs. "You're going to give me all of you?" I breathe.
She opens her mouth, my eyes moving to watch her lips open. "I . . ." she begins, but stops and closes her mouth, getting me to unglue my attention from them and back to her blue gaze. "Yes." She clears her throat. "Yes, Maverick. I'm going to give you all of me."
We don't look away from each other, what just happened inside only adding to this moment so we're both feeling nothing but raw emotion. With a kiss to the tip of her nose, I release my hold on her and back up.
"Let's go home then, darlin'."
Her smile wobbles and her gaze brightens, all the clouds that had started to brew inside of them while in the restaurant clear. I shut her door, and with my heart about to race out of my chest, I round the truck and climb in. She reaches out this time, grabbing my hand, and we jump back on the road . . . headed home.
24
LEIGHTON
"Head Over Boots" by Jon Pardi
How did I just go from devastated to on top of the world in just a blink of my eye?
After hearing those girls talk about how they couldn't believe that the famous Maverick Davis, rodeo star, was with such trailer trash and they would make sure and give him what he really wants, I was blown away. I thought that taking the high road when I walked out of the stall, letting them see that I was in there and overheard them, would be the end of it. Sure, they hurt me with their words, but I was more upset with myself that I allowed them to get a reaction out of me.
By the time I got back to the table, I still couldn't shake what I had overheard. I looked across the busy restaurant at the handsome man who had brought me there and thought, what is he doing with me? He could have anyone. It was only natural to feel a bit of insecurity after the things they had been saying. I hated putting a damper on our night with the path my mind had taken. I had almost been able to shake off their words, doing my best to move on and put it behind me.
That was, until I heard them laughing behind me.
I should have known better than to think those dark thoughts. There is no room for the bullshit they actually made me think about myself when I have a man like Maverick at my side. His words to them, both of them, filled my heart full to bursting. The venomous tone that he took left no room for argument, not even from me.
I knew before he had even tossed his cash on the table that I had to tell him I loved him. I had to get the words
that I meant with every fiber of my being out--the ones that I've always felt for him. It wasn't just him standing up for me back there. He indisputably did, but the way in which he did not only proved to those women that his heart only beats for one person--he showed me too. He single-handedly erased the pain he had formed when he turned his back on us years ago and in turn filled it with the new memory of him creating and solidifying a bond I know will never be broken.
As simple as that.
This is our time, finally, and I wasn't going to waste another second of it.
My princess always wears boots. His words echo through my mind, and I feel myself smiling at them all over again.
I take another peek at him, the darkness in the truck giving me only a shadow of his large frame, but I can see his face clearly in my mind. The way that he looked at me when I started to tell him that I loved him, that expression was something love stories are written about. His eyes burned bright, for me, and the fierce power of adoration within them whipped around us like a physical touch. I have never seen him look so vulnerable. He left no room for doubt to linger. That look obliterated it wholly.
For the thousandth time in the past thirty minutes of our drive I open my mouth to say those words again, but I snap my lips shut before I can get them out. Part of me, the selfish and needy part, wants to wait in the hopes that he will beat me to it. However, that part will never win. I won't let it.
I think back to everything he's told me about his life growing up. How that ache his parents had created with their selfishness had forced him to leave when he wanted to stay. To wait for us. He spent his whole life not believing in love, and I'll be damned if I let him go another day without feeling it and knowing it was given to him freely.
"You're thinkin' pretty loud over there," he jokes, giving me back the words I had spoken to him earlier in the night.
I hum my acknowledgment and grin, knowing he can't see it, but enjoying the easy banter that had returned after the tumultuous end to our date.
"We're almost home," he continues.
"I like hearing you say that, cowboy." Oh, boy, do I ever.
"I know, darlin'. You made that pretty clear earlier."
"And you?" I ask, leaving the question hanging in the air between us.
He's quiet for a while, the hum of his tires just barely audible over the beat of my heart. I know I'm pushing hard, but I wasn't kidding when I told him I didn't want him to stay on the Davis ranch. Not now, not ever. The second the thought of him under my roof took root, I knew with crystal clear certainty that was where he belonged.
"I can honestly tell you, Leighton, that there isn't anywhere else I would rather be. That is a fact I guarantee to you will never change."
"That's good," I breathe lamely.
He snickers low and deep. I reach out, content with the silence, and lace our fingers together, wishing the big console separating us was gone so I could feel him against me.
Soon, I think.
Very soon.
Maverick's phone had started to ring about ten minutes from the house. He looked at the display, but put it back in the cup holder between us, taking the hand he had let go back within his grasp. It hadn't even stopped ringing a full minute before his phone was once again going off. He gives me a squeeze and then let go of my hand again, checking the display, but continuing to ignore it.
"Do you need to get that?" I ask, looking down at the phone's display.
"He can wait."
"It seems pretty important," I drone when it starts ringing for the third time and the same man's name showing on the screen. "I don't know who Trey is, but it seems like he really needs to talk to you."
"Not as important as what's about to happen, Leigh. I don't want to take any more time than what it took to get here. Not when I'm this close. He can wait."
I feel my brows pull in, confused at the last bit. "This close? This close to what?" I question, thinking he means our approach to the house.
Flicking his blinker on, even though we're the only vehicle on the road, he turns his truck onto the drive that leads to my house. I continue to look over at him, his profile outlined in the illumination by the lights that line my porch, and wait for him to answer me.
He stops his truck, pulling in right next to my Jeep, with a heavy foot on the brake before shutting it off. Without even looking in my direction, he jumps down in a hurry. The sound of his door clicking shut in the silence around us makes me jump. I vaguely hear his phone start to ring again, but with the way that my heart is galloping against my ribs, I hardly hear it. All my focus is on him. His pace is brisk as he walks around the front of his truck, the whole time I feel like I'm the prey being hunted. I can't see his eyes, with the lights now at his back and the hat casting his face in the shadows, but I can feel the burn of his stare like a physical touch. Branding me with promise.
The force with which he flings opens the door has it banging firmly against his side, but he just shoulders it and continues with his mission, reaching over to unbuckle my seat belt in silence. His breathing is harsh and rushed through his parted lips, mirroring the same sounds that my heaving chest is making.
There is so much carnal desire sparking between us right now. The goose bumps that dance across every exposed inch of my skin make me tremble. The anticipation of what's to come makes me weak with need. This is so different from our first time together. We've come so far in just a short time, but it feels like we've been building up to this moment for years.
I guess, in a way, we have.
After the metal of my now unbuckled seat belt bangs against the truck's frame, he doesn't make a move. He continues to regard me, not touching any part of me, but still I feel my body's response as a wave of heat washes over me from head to toe. It's so intense, the need I feel deep inside me, that I shiver and let out an audible moan.
That sound is what breaks him. He makes a noise deep in his chest, almost animalistic in nature, and reaches out to twist me with his hands on my hips, turning and lifting me right out of the high truck with ease. My hands shoot up to his shoulders at the same time that my center slams against his. Just when I lock my feet behind him, right above the swell of his fantastic ass, his hands move. Going from midthigh, moving underneath my dress, until his long, dexterous fingers are pushing under the band of my panties. He flexes both of his hands against my ass, causing me to shutter as he shoulders the door shut.
"Oh, God," I breathe.
"Hold on," he demands, flexing his hold again while stomping up the steps to my porch.
One hand leaves my bottom and he folds his knees, effortlessly bending to move the mat and grab the key before standing quickly. The move pushes his erection harder into my desperate body, the friction rubbing against me perfectly, and I cry out with a low moan of pleasure.
"Fuck," he hisses through his clenched jaw.
Knowing that he's feeling just as desperate for me as I am for him does something dangerous to my body. Knowing that he is so close to the edge spurs me on, and I'm no longer a docile participant in this. My hands move, slowly caressing and massaging the tense muscles under my palm. He grunts when my fingers leave the cotton of his shirt and I look up into his hooded eyes. At my wink, the only clue that I'm up to something, his lips part and I see the spark of need light his penetrating gaze. Bending my head, I run the tip of my nose along the strong column of his neck, starting right behind his ear until I feel the material of his shirt. I breathe him in, his hardy scent making me hum in pleasure while I rock my hips.
This time he doesn't hold back the delicious sounds. The throaty and deep rumble vibrating against my hard nipples makes me only rock against him harder. My head spins, dizzy with my hunger for him. When he takes a step into the house, jostling my body enough to give sharp friction against him, I open my mouth and bite down on his neck. Not enough to break the skin, but just hard enough to get a reaction from him. He stops in his tracks, instantly.
"Goddamn!" he bellows, usin
g his hold on me to roll my hips harshly against his. "You're so hot, even through my fuckin' jeans I can feel your heat, darlin'. Keep ruttin' against me and you won't be the only one that comes fully clothed."
I release the hold my teeth had, licking the spot with my tongue before trailing it up to his ear, nibbling on his lobe before whispering into his ear. "Then hurry, cowboy."
He doesn't need any more encouragement from me. The second my words are out, I continue to lick and kiss down his neck, and he starts walking again, faster this time, if that's even possible. I'm not aware of anything else around us except for the overwhelming need that I feel for him. This last month has been a whirlwind of emotions, all of them building to this, us coming back together--but this time it's fueled by the love we both have for each other, making it more powerful and all-consuming than I could ever imagine.
No longer willing to waste another second, I hunch my back and give myself a gap between our bodies to drag my hands from his shoulders and down to his stomach. When I pull his shirt from his pants and push my hands under the material, his abs clench under my touch and he grunts. Encouraged by his reaction, I quickly bunch his shirt up, knowing he can't remove it without dropping me, but I get it far enough up that I can still tease him further. Drive him just as mad as I feel.
I have his shirt as high as I can get it. I peek my eyes open slowly and try to focus through the lust-filled haze that's floating around us. Right when he steps into my bedroom, I turn my head and bend my neck, taking his nipple between my lips with a wet suck. The words that leave his mouth are completely inarticulate. Just a garble of sounds that escape in a rush.
And then, I'm flying through the air with a breathy gasp, landing in the center of my bed. My hair completely covers my face and it takes me a second to recover from the shock of his toss before I can move my arms and start to push my hands through the tangled locks, parting through my curls to see Maverick. Nothing could have prepared me for the sight that met my eyes when I finally cleared my vision, though.