Page 15 of The Maverick of the Mountain
Anyone else in my position would scream too if they saw that reflection. And by that, I mean me. I’m completely covered in mud from head to toe. Twigs and leaves are plastered to my head, and my hair is an absolute abomination. I look like a swamp creature.
The cabin shakes as Maverick charges from the other room. “Corinne,” he shouts. “Corinne, are you okay?” The cabin stops shaking as he grinds to a halt outside the door. “Are you decent in there?”
I stare at the door, back at my reflection, and then at the door and laugh. It takes me a few moments, but I recover, tears streaming down my cheeks.
“I’m clothed, but I wouldn’t go as far as saying I’m decent.”
I push the door open. Maverick’s breathing heavily, confused and concerned as he stares at me.
“What?”
“Why didn’t you tell me I look like the Loch Ness monster coming up for air after a decade? I’m a mess!”
Maverick continues staring at me, relaxing for a brief moment before the air shifts and something ignites in his eyes. He swallows.
“Corinne,” he rasps, gruff and serious. “You look like a damn angel.”
Chapter 5
Maverick
“Shouldn’t have said that,”I rasp, wiping my brow before turning to Hank. “I should not have said that.”
What was I thinking? I knew I messed up the moment the words left my mouth. Problem is that I didn’t have control of said words. Or my brain. I lost that the moment I touched Corinne’s soft skin. The moment she entered my life. She’s all I’ve been able to think about.
I brace my hands on the edge of the counter, trying my best to hold it together. I’ve been attempting to make stew, but failing miserably because I’ve been replaying what I said over and over again, remembering the look on her face.
I sigh, returning to chopping vegetables. Nothing can change what I said, but honestly, I’m not sure I would. It was the truth. Corinne looks like a damn angel, even with all that mud. Especially with that mud.
Chop. Chop. Chop.My mind drifts to her in the shower, water sluicing off her nak—shit!The knife slips from my grip, clattering to the ground.
Hank runs over to me, chittering.
I give him a scratch behind the ears. “I’m fine, buddy.”
But it’s not the truth. I’m not fine. I won’t be fine. I’m all twisted up, tied up around Corinne’s finger, and she has no idea. Well, maybe she has some idea now, but the way she was looking at me and the silence that followed spelled out her feelings on the subject.
Not good.
“Shouldn’t have told her that, Hank,” I repeat, because I can’t break this damn cycle. “Shouldn’t have?—”
Hank rears back, chittering as he gestures erratically with his paws.
“What?”
More chitters and one long growl-bark.
“You think I didn’t say enough?”
Hank nods.
I scratch my head. “Yeah, I’m not too sure about Hank. And I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t take relationship advice from a four-year-old raccoon either.
Hank’s eyes widen before he growls once and then trots toward the doggy door I made for him.
“Ah, come on, Hank,” I shout, rising to my feet. “Do be like that. I didn’t mean it.” I snag a piece of raw beef off the counter and toss it his way. “Take that as a piece offering.”
Hank turns around, pauses, but then turns up his snout at it and heads through the doggy door.
