Page 41 of Maverick

“No,” I answered at the same time.

Grace blushed prettily and turned her gaze to her plate. “I’m glad you liked it, but try not to say fuck.” She whispered the last word, but Sophie heard her and gasped, pointed at her mother.

“Mommy.”

“I know and I’m sorry. Finish your vegetables.”

“Okay, but only because they’re in-cred-i-ble.” She sounded out the world in slow syllables as if it was a new word for her. “Mommy is the best cooker, isn’t she?”

“She sure is. A da—a darn good cook.” I winked at Sophie, and she giggled, the sound hitting me square in the chest. My gaze swung back to Grace, and I smiled. “Thank you for dinner. It was great.”

She held my gaze for a long time, and I couldn’t have looked away even if I wanted to, which I didn’t. “You are, um, welcome.”

I felt a hell of a lot more than welcome. I was hot and horny. Again.

Chapter 20

Grace

“Good night, Mommy. I love you.” Sophie smiled and hooked her arms around my neck, hugging me tightly.

Accepting her hugs was the best part of every single day, and I closed my eyes to inhale her sweet little girl scent, her coconut-scented hair, and I loved her little contented sigh. “I love you too, baby girl, to the moon and beyond. Sweet dreams.” I lay her down and pressed a kiss to her forehead before tucking her in.

“I’m gonna dream that we can stay here forever!” She flashed a wide smile and drifted off to sleep.

My heart kicked against my breastbone at her words. She wanted to stay here, which was a problem because we were leaving in three days. I planned to leave in two days, but I was stalling, and the big sexy biker downstairs was the reason why. I needed to get my head out of my ass and get going. Soon, I told myself, and glanced at my daughter one last time before pulling the door almost completely shut.

I shook off all thoughts of Maverick and headed back to the kitchen to clean it up. It was the most relaxed meal I’d shared with a man in a long time. Maverick appreciated my cooking and was effusive in his praise. No one had thrown any dishes—or tantrums—about the shitty food, and so I only had to wash and dry the dishes instead of cleaning up the whole room. Not much else has changed, I reminded myself since I spent all day cooking and cleaning, at two houses rather than one. I still felt bad about having to leave Mabel, but if there was a chance that the attempted break in had anything to do with me, then I couldn’t put her at risk. Though by all accounts she was having a great time entertaining the prospects at night.

I came to an abrupt stop in the kitchen and frowned at the delicious sight before me. Maverick stood at the counter loading leftovers into containers. My heart gave a little flutter, along with other, more southern parts. “You don’t have to do that!”

Maverick looked up and cocked one brow in my direction. It shouldn’t have been as sexy as it was. “It’s my kitchen, of course I do.”

I shook my head. “No. What I mean is that I was coming back to do it, I just needed to put Sophie to bed. You worked hard all day,” I said, and rushed towards the counter, taking the bowl of vegetables from his hands. “I can do it.”

“Yeah, well, you worked hard all day too,” he said, and reclaimed the bowl. “This is the least I can do.”

“What are you talking about? You’re letting us stay here, keeping us safe in case…” I let my words drift off because I couldn’t bring myself to say what I was thinking. In case Trent finds us. I took the bowl back, smiling at the surprise on his face and at myself. This was something I never would’ve done to Trent, at least not without consequences.

His big hands covered mine to still them, and when I looked up, he looked annoyed. Instinctively, I took a step back, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back. “Dammit, Grace.”

I flinched and closed my eyes on instinct.

“Open your eyes.” His command came out on a harsh whisper, and I obeyed immediately. Maverick’s broad shoulders relaxed, and his grip softened. “Two things.”

I nodded obediently, my heart racing so loud there was a whooshing sound pulsing in my ears. “I’m sorry, I’m listening.”

“First,” he said, and released me, “You have nothing to be sorry about, I am not going to hurt you. Period. I will never lay a fucking hand on you. Got it?”

“I know that,” I shot back and gave his chest a shove. “I can’t help how I react. Not yet. You looked angry.”

“I was angry at the bastard who hurt you. I know you won’t tell me what happened, but try and understand, you’re safe here,” he replied in a calm yet firm voice.

“I’m working on it,” I snapped. Did he think it was easy to undo years of conditioning?

Anger flashed in his blue eyes again, but I knew it wasn’t directed at me, but my situation and what Trent had done to me. “The second thing, which I have already told you at least twice, is that there are no strings attached to you staying here. I mean it.” His gaze drilled into me so hard, so intense it was like a visceral touch. “Understood?”

I nodded. “Got it.” My voice was low and breathy. His nearness had a strange effect on my ability to breathe, to think clearly. My heart raced and my nipples hardened, and the low clench in my belly told me this wasn’t strange at all. Oh no, it was the world’s most inconvenient attraction.

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