Page 81 of Coming Home to Maverick

“A little.”

“I’m sorry. Let’s wait to talk about this stuff until you’re settled back in and rested.”

They drove the rest of the way joking lightly about the passing landscape, about Texas, even about Billy Bob’s.

“So you sang there?” Maverick looked impressed, and she had to laugh.

“Yes, I did. Would you have been at the stage, reaching for my hand?”

“Did people do that?”

She smiled at the jealousy in his expression. “We both know I wasn’t a big sensation. It was one gig. And I felt lucky to open for another band.”

He nodded.

“You didn’t answer the question. Would you have been at the stage reaching for my hand?”

“Yes, and backstage, and in your dressing room.”

She smiled. “That would have been nice.”

“We can still do that.”

She didn’t answer.

At last, they pulled into his front yard, and Gracie Faith came running out. “Daddy!”

Maverick sucked in a breath.

She pounded on his door, and when he opened it, she jumped in the truck and threw her arms around his neck. “I’m so glad you’re back.”

His eyes found Bailey’s.

And she didn’t know what to say. There was too much goodness in that scene for her to even know how to handle it. This was home. No matter where they went, this, right here, was home.

“This is all I need.” Maverick scooted out, trying to hop down with Gracie wrapped around his waist.

They made their way into the house. It smelled delicious. “Your mama is a saint.”

“She’s your mama, too. More yours than mine, sounded like, last time we chatted.”

They both laughed again about the talking-to she’d laid on him in the hospital.

They relaxed with family—all the brothers were home again. Bailey watched Maverick, and as soon as she noticed his fatigue taking over, she stood at his side and offered to help him up the stairs.

And it was further evidence to his exhaustion that he didn’t moan about her babying him or complain that he knew how to walk in his own house.

As they neared his bedroom door, she had to wonder if maybe there was another reason he wasn’t complaining.

She laughed to herself as the door opened. His huge mahogany bed, with fresh new sheets, looked more inviting than ever.

“Wanna come in for a while?” He wiggled his eyebrows, and she laughed.

“I’m here to put you to bed, mister.”

“You heard my mother. She’s given up on her house rules for you. Now that’s something.”

Bailey shook her head. She knew Mama considered them as good as married and was just waiting for the wedding. “I don’t think she’s given up on God’s rules though.”

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