Page 50 of August 20

While she waited, she put lotion on her legs. She'd jumped into the shower after Skye had finished, trying to distance herself from Maverick.

What had happened at the pool kept replaying in her thoughts. From the beginning, she had no intentions of feeling anything toward Maverick besides hatred for him holding her hostage. But over time, she'd learned to respect him for his devotion to Skye. Hatred and respect battled it out inside of her every single day and every single night.

Now she found herself attracted to him, and knowing that he'd saved Skye in the explosion and tried to pull Janelle from the fire, getting hurt in the process, only made her more open to exploring her attraction to him.

Which sounded insane.

She would be the first person to admit she probably had a bit of Stockholm syndrome. But until someone knew the whole story, they couldn't judge her.

She was trying to keep her family together. The only person whose opinion mattered to her was Skye's.

A knock on the bathroom door startled her. She pressed her hand to her stomach. Instead of wearing baggy sweats and a t-shirt to bed, she'd put on a pair of gym shorts and a tank, telling herself that she wasn't sure what would happen tonight between her and Maverick.

She wanted to look more open to possibilities, but not like one of the whores she noticed hanging around the bikers. To each their own, she had a child watching her every step. She wanted to set a good example. There was no room for traipsing around the house in a cute bra and panty set—not that she had anything new to wear.

That wasn't the only thing that bothered her. What did she have to offer Maverick?

He'd seen her at her worst, day after day. There was nothing attractive about her. She lived in comfortable clothes that had seen a lot of wear. Raising a child on her own, all her spare money went to put clothes on Skye.

She stepped over and opened the door. Maverick's gaze dropped to her chest.

Cool air from outside the room drifted into the steamy bathroom. She shivered.

His gaze intensified. Her nipples hardened, and without a bra, her reaction was out there in plain sight.

"Do you need something," she whispered.

"Ice cream." He hitched his shoulder.

Her chest ached. She inhaled deeper, hoping to fill her lungs. Maverick had promised Skye a root beer float if she finished her homework earlier.

"She's almost—"

"I'm done." Skye slipped past her and grabbed Maverick's hand, tugging him away from Brooke.

He looked over his shoulder at her, sweeping his gaze up and down again. She held on to the door frame, weak in the knees. If anything, she was more aroused than earlier when Maverick pressed his nude body against her.

There was not a moment she forgot what happened.

Right now, Skye was keeping them apart, but she almost feared what would or wouldn't happen once she went to bed.

She'd never survive another night in the same bed with him now that she'd kissed him. She'd felt him. She'd accepted that he was innocent of murdering Janelle.

Most of all, kissing him back had been a big step toward forgiving him.

She hadn't been there when the explosion happened. She hadn't even known her sister. But she understood Janelle stayed away from her and grandma because she was addicted to drugs.

Her sister wasn't innocent. Janelle wasn't the kind of person Brooke would want around Skye, which saddened her. It also made her more determined to give Skye a good life.

There was no sign Maverick was ever a user.

A man with muscles and clear skin and fully dedicated to his child wouldn't put drugs first in his life. He'd belonged to Havlin Motorcycle Club since before Skye was born—she'd seen the dated picture inside the clubhouse that was taken in front of a building in Beaverton, Oregon.

As far as she could tell, the bikers weren't into meth. They ran a business. And, while they partied, Maverick hadn't even had a drink since kidnapping her.

She had to face the fact that she'd been wrong about him. Not that she was excusing what he'd done to her by destroying her livelihood, upsetting her family life, and scaring her to death. But she also couldn't say she wouldn't do the same thing if someone had Skye.

Skye was family. She'd fight to the death for her.

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