Page 31 of The Cupcake Cottage

“Outspoken.”

“Wait. I thought we were listing my qualities?”

He laughed. “You’re the right kind of loudmouth. It’s a list-worthy quality. Trust me.”

What was therenotto love about this man?

“A loudmouth for the greater good?” she teased.

“Something like that.”

“And what does your dream woman dress like?” She dropped a touch of honey in her tone and he leaned in.

“Like you, I guess.”

She loved the game where you played casual, and like you were unaffected by each other. You both acted like you were unbothered. Then when one of you finally broke, you had crazy-hot kisses.

Absolutely loved it.

“Which version? The before or after Daisy-Mae?”

“The one who wears my name and number on her back.” He leaned close. “Not Leo’s, or Landon’s, or Dylan’s.Mine.”

She was never getting that image out of her head of him wanting his name on her back.

“You’re encouraging favoritism from the ticket holder experience manager?”

“It’s called wearing your boyfriend’s number,” he growled. “It’s a thing.”

CHAPTER 6

Shopping was boring. Which was exactly why Maverick had hired out the decorating of his home so many times.

To make it more torturous, whenever it appeared Daisy-Mae had found a suitable desk and he’d offer to bring the truck around, it would send her and his mom into further fits of hemming and hawing.

He was pretty sure he’d seen every desk in every antique shop within sixty miles of Sweetheart Creek. And now they were in San Antonio, looking at office furniture so sleek and modern there was no way he could ever see Daisy-Mae using it. He was starting to believe they were messing with him.

“I think I like the one we saw in the first store,” Daisy-Mae said thoughtfully, and Maverick held in a groan.

She burst into a sunny smile after a shared look with his mom, then gave him a playful nudge. “Just teasing! I’m buying Mrs. Fisher’s old desk.”

The third one they’d looked at. Because they hadn’t just looked in stores today. Nope. They’d crawled the used ads online as well. In and out of houses all across the countryside.

“I’m going to check next door again,” his mom said, zipping out the glass doors and back to the neighboring antique shop, leaving them to trail after her.

Unable to help himself, Maverick asked Daisy-Mae, “Then what was all of this about?” He gestured to the modern furniture behind them, then more generally, thinking of all the ground they’d covered.

“Mrs. Fisher told me to see if I found anything better, and then to let her know what a fair price would be if I still wanted hers by the end of the day. Now I know.”

“So you didn’t need me and didn’t need my truck?”

She wrapped her arm around his waist as they reentered the antique shop, his mother already deep into the store. They stood near the entrance, waiting for her.

“Of course I needed you. What if I’d found something better and I needed to bring it home immediately?”

“I think we bored the photographer to tears,” Maverick said, empathizing with the man who’d been shadowing them for the past several hours. He was leaning against an old bookcase, stifling a yawn.

“I suppose being domestic isn’t very exciting.”

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