Page 97 of Best Part of Me

All at once, the childhood crush dissolves. The grown woman with needs and desires takes control of my body, and I flick the lock on the door. With a gentle push, I force him back onto the bed. He yanks me down on top of him, and as we crash together, my whole world aligns.

A sexy chuckle expels from him, and I stroke my finger across his jawline, studying the features of his face. The chiseled chin, the scruff on his cheeks, the deep-brown eyes I’ve been fortunate to gaze into more times than I can count. It’s almost too much. The belief that he is mine and I am his.

My eyes burn, and my throat constricts. “I love you, Maverick. Like, really love you. You’re the best part of me, too. You know that, right? Because I need you to know.”

His hands cup my cheeks, and he nods, a serious expression taking residence on his face. “I know, Sunshine. You don’t ever have to worry if I know.” He presses a reassuring kiss to my lips. And my apprehensions begin to slip away. “But...” A sly grin slides onto his lips. “If you want to try to prove it to me, I won’t be opposed.”

I smack him in the chest playfully and then lower my lips to his where he takes control of the kiss, cradling my head in one hand and not loosening his hold on my hip with his other. This moment is perfect, and even though I know it won’t always be like this, I’m stupidly in love enough to at least hope it will.

As his fingers trail up the inside of my shirt, I shiver above him. He gazes at me, tipping his chin up. “So, what are you thankful for this Thanksgiving?”

A new fantasy of the two of us sharing every aspect of our lives with one another takes the place of the childhood one. And it’s a million times better. I had no idea it could be like this. A chance to be Maverick’s everything rather than simply a one-night stand. To share a love so intense and strong with him.

Just when I felt lonely and unworthy of happiness, Maverick arrived on the scene. He rescued me and showed me what it’s like to be worshipped and adored. I feel like the luckiest person in the world. And like my runaway bride decision was the best decision of my life. Because it led me to him.

“I’m thankful for... us.”

A smile spreads over his lips, and I lower my mouth to his, planning to show him all night, if I have to, just how blessed I feel this Thanksgiving.

Epilogue

CAMILLE

ONE YEAR LATER

Tugging my Carhartt beanie over my ears, I yank open the door of Brew Box. Peppermint and freshly brewed coffee assault my senses. My eyes scan the inside of the café, starting behind the bar. But Rosie’s not there. There’s a young guy wearing a Santa hat I don’t recognize calling out drink orders.

At last, I spot Rosie seated at our table. I stomp the snow from my boots on the mat just inside the door before I shuffle through the crowded café. Rosie’s dressed in leather leggings, a red cropped sweater, and a fuzzy beanie with a pompom on top.

“Rosie, the coffee better be strong today,” I huff out. “Dad has been a real hard-ass since agreeing to train me to take over the store.”

But Rosie doesn’t even glance up at me. My stomach tightens.

“Rosie? What’s going on? You okay?”

She glances up at me with watery eyes, and I already know she’s not.

“It’s Grandma Gigi’s cabin. Some dillhole is trying claim it as his own.”

My brows pinch together, and I slump into the chair across from her. “What do you mean? How?”

She shakes her head, opening her laptop. “I don’t know. Apparently, my grandma and this little shit’s grandfather bought the cabin together back in the day. Like before my grandpa. I guess this guy’s grandfather just passed away, and now he says he’s inherited the cabin.”

My mind jumbles through the bits and pieces of information as Rosie gives them to me, but I’m having a difficult time keeping up.

“Okay, say this is true, how would he inherit the cabin if his grandfather and your grandma bought it together?”

“I don’t know. He says his grandfather owned sixty percent and Gigi only owned forty. He wants to buy me out for her share. It’s fucking ridiculous, right? I love that cabin. We all love that cabin.”

Itisridiculous. The cabin is the only thing Rosie has clung to that is part of her family. We’ve been going out to the cabin every New Year’s for as long as I can remember. Suddenly the idea of that, of not having that constant in my life, feels personal.

“What can we do?”

Rosie’s in fight mode. Her posture is rigid. But her focus remains determined. “He wants me to meet him at the cabin the day after Christmas.”

My heart stalls in my chest. “But that’s when we all head there for New Year’s.”

“I know.” She purses her lips.

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