Page 13 of The Maverick of the Mountain
Maverick lets out a rumbling laugh. “Is that what I am?”
My smile wobbles. “Aren’t you?” My voice is a little softer, more brittle.
He sighs and rests his hand on my knee. “I guess I am. Sure, why not?”
At least, that’s what I think he says. My mind is on his hand. The weight of it. The feel of it. It’s like there’s a ten-pound dumbbell resting on my leg right now, and all I can think about is how it would feel elsewhere. Everywhere. Slipping beneath thehem of my shirt. Cupping my breast. Those fingers digging into my flesh. Digging into my—ahem.I need to pump the brakes. This isnothow I usually am. I don’t feel this strongly about anyone so fast. I… shouldn’t. No one can, right?
I clear my throat, but Maverick takes it as my way of bringing attention to his hand.
He removes it from my leg. “Sorry.”
The only thing he should apologize for is not sliding it further up my leg. Yup. I’m definitely succumbing to my hunger and exhaustion.
“I can show you some spots tomorrow. So long as this storm lets up.”
“Are they usually this bad?”
He smiles, and again, I feel a jolt, a million little needles prickling all over my body.
“I’ve been through worse. Haven’t lost power, so that’s?—”
We lose power.
Hank chitters.
Maverick groans. I can hear him grabbing at his beard. “Shouldn’t have said that.”
I search for the basin with my foot, but instead I find Maverick’s leg. At least, I hope it’s his leg.
He lets out a guttural sound before readjusting himself. “I’ll get some candles. A fire, too. Should’ve started that earlier.”
There’s a different edge to his voice. I can feel it more than hear it. It rolls over my skin as the darkness heightens other senses.
“Okay.”
A few moments later, Maverick’s back with a couple of candles.
“Thanks,” I say as he hands me one.
He grunts as he turns around and heads for the wood stove. I watch in awe as he goes to work. Picking out different-sizedlogs and arranging them. It’s a shame it’s so dark. I bet his back muscles would look phenome—No.
I have a wedding I need to focus on. Very expensive equipment locked up in my car, which hopefully hasn’t been washed down the mountain or destroyed by a downed tree. A lump forms in my chest at the thought of it.
The lights flicker and then turn back on right as he gets the fire started.
“Figures,” he says, grinning over his shoulder at me.
I fight another wave of feelings.
“The universe has a sense of humor.”
He stands up. And up… I forgot how massive Maverick is. He’s well over six feet tall, probably a foot taller than me. And he’s as wide and thick and muscular as any professional football player.
“Must be having quite the laugh at us, huh?”
I swallow. I have no idea what he just said. I’m still focused on those tree trunk limbs. The way his callused hands felt on my skin.
“I’m sorry. I’m not used to guests. I’ll get you something to eat. How’s stew sound?”
