His mom was practically buzzing around his house when Maverick got home from one of his whirlwind away games. She’d been delighted when he and Daisy-Mae got engaged, and he dreaded telling her they were fighting.
He dropped his duffle bag at the base of his recliner and fell into its cushions, exhausted. This whole being semi-famous thing wasn’t for the old.
It didn’t help that he hadn’t slept much since the wedding, tossing and turning both nights while thinking about Daisy-Mae. He rubbed his eyes, fully expecting a thirty-year lecture from his mother, who had surely heard all about the fight through the grapevine. These kinds of things never stayed private in Sweetheart Creek—especially when you fought outside a wedding.
He opened his eyes before he inadvertently took a mid afternoon nap, ruining his chance of finally having a good night’s sleep. There was a small table of plants in front of his living room windows that hadn’t been there yesterday morning when he’d dragged himself to the airport before dawn. “Since when do I have plants?”
“They make it look like someone lives here,” his mom replied, coming in from the kitchen.
“Someone lives here—me.”
She gave a harrumph that made him smile, patting his cheek as she moved past him, bustling about, adjusting the plants. At some point in the home’s history, the original living room windows had been replaced with two tall ones that stretched almost from the floor to the ceiling. When he sat on his recliner, he had a stupendous view of the rolling Texas hills out behind the house. And apparently, so too did the stray mama cat sitting on his windowsill, flicking her tail in irritation at having her peace disturbed.
“And since when does Kraken come in the house?”
“What an awful name.”
“She has kittens in the barn. Penguin, Duck, Coyote, Panther, and Shark.”
“Poor cats, named after NHL teams.”
“I thought it was clever.” He got up and traveled through the kitchen to open the back door off the laundry room. “Hey, Kraken. Time to take off.” He left the door open and leaned through the doorway to check on the cat. She hadn’t moved and was now licking her front paw as though she owned the place. Or more likely, waiting for her gourmet dinner. She was looking a lot healthier and less bony than she had two months ago, but he still didn’t want her in the house. If she came in, he’d suddenly have six cats in here, and that was about three too many for him as a first-time cat owner. If you could even own a cat.
“I was wondering where you kept the food,” his mother said, scooping the feline into her arms. Kraken purred, already knowing who was the boss even though he was the one that fed her.
“Her kittens are outside. She’s an outside cat.”
His mother cooed over Kraken, taking her into the kitchen and setting her on the counter.
“That’s also where I feed her—outside.” He swept the cat into his arms. “Off the counter.” Kraken climbed up his shirt and launched off his shoulder like she was a slap shot sent from a possessed puck machine.
“Whoa.” Maverick turned. The cat had landed on top of the old fridge, watching him. “I don’t think I like feral felines in my house.”
“She’s not feral.”
He picked up his phone and shot a text to Brant Wylder, Myles’s brother, who was the local veterinarian and animal control officer. He had been meaning to ask if anyone was missing a cat. He figured two months late was better than never.
Had two months really gone by since he and Daisy-Mae found her?
Brant’s reply was quick. The former owner hadn’t owned a cat, and none matching Kraken’s description had been reported as missing.
“What are you doing?” his mom asked, sending a pointed frown at Maverick’s phone as he typed out a reply. She had begun telling him about his new plants that would surely die in a week and explaining how to avoid that.
“I’m asking Brant if he has a large, cat-eating dog.”
“Maverick!”
He grinned and tucked his phone into his back pocket. “So tell me about these plants.”
“I was.” She huffed with impatience. “I hope you show Daisy-Mae more attention than you show me.”
He sobered. His heart still stung from their fight, and he still couldn’t solve the riddle of why they’d argued or when they’d have a chance to make up. Daisy-Mae was used to fame and attention. Yes, he was crazy busy. Yes, he couldn’t always make their wedding plan appointments. But he loved her. And she loved him, right? They’d done okay earlier in their relationship moving their lives around. Shouldn’t they be more okay than they were?
His mom reached into a large bag she’d parked on the counter. Her hands moved, but her eyes remained locked on him. He watched her watching him for a long beat.
“You always liked her,” his mom said simply. “And I know she was Myles’s girl for a long time. But I could always tell when she’d been hanging out with you boys. You were always brighter afterward.” He gave her a look, and she waved a hand. “It’s just one of those things mothers notice.” She lowered her voice. “Myles is wonderful, but I always thought you and Daisy-Mae would be a better match. I’m glad you two found each other.” She watched him again.
He sighed. He might as well dive into the conversation she wanted to have rather than let her wear him down. “We’re fighting.”
“About what?”
“She doesn’t like fame.”
His mom frowned. “You were both reaching for that sort of attention as teens—her with her crowns and you with your hockey. Looking to get noticed as something special. Are you sure it’s the fame that’s bothering her?”
“I like hockey. And my ability to mess up my reputation shows I don’t care about being a celebrity.”
“Or maybe it just gets you more attention.” She gave him a smug smile.
“You think I sabotage myself?”
She shrugged, a bratty twinkle in her eyes.
She was teasing.
At least he was pretty sure she was.
He paused to consider the idea of self-sabotage, then discarded it.
“I think she doesn’t like that I’m busy.”
His mom made a sound of acknowledgment but nothing more as she unpacked containers of home-cooked meals into his fridge. She was clearly up to something. The two of them were close, but she didn’t normally stock his fridge.
“Will this be a regular thing now that I live closer?” he asked, gesturing to the growing stack of containers.
“I bought you new bedding. I put it on your account at that new place in Riverbend.”
“I don’t have an account.”
“I started one for you. Expect a bill in the mail at the end of the month.”
“They let you do that?”
“Of course they did.”
“You’re dangerous.”
“Just trying to make this place look as though you’re not about to bolt back to the city.” She cast a glance around, inspecting as she moved through the kitchen and into the living room. “You went a bit overboard clearing out your old life. Even I have a nicer couch than you do.”
She winked at him playfully. She’d allowed him to give her the buttercream leather couch from his beach house as well as a few other items when he’d become fed up with his life being bigger than he was and had downsized it all.
Louis, when he’d heard Maverick was selling off just about everything, had sent him to the team psychologist in fear he was preparing to end his life.
“Why the stuff, Mom?” And why wasn’t she hounding him about the fight? Getting into the nitty gritty of it and helping him figure out what was wrong with Daisy-Mae?
“You need to look settled.”
“Why?” Maverick peeked into the living room again. There was a new painting he hadn’t noticed earlier and a soft-looking blanket thrown over the end of the couch. Add in the plants, food, new linens.
The house didn’t look so sparse any longer. It looked like a home. A home he really liked.
“Wait a second,” he said. “Are you nesting?”
“Sweetie, a woman likes things to be cozy and welcoming. She needs to know you’re not going to up and move out on her in the night.”
“Daisy-Mae knows this is my sanctuary. I’m not going anywhere. I have cows.” He gestured toward the kitchen where Kraken was still perched on top of the fridge. “And a cat.”
“The right woman is your sanctuary.” She turned on her heel and he followed her up the narrow staircase. His attention caught on a fern sitting on the windowsill on the landing where the stairs turned. If he wasn’t careful, he’d knock the plant off its perch in the middle of the night. “This is nice.” He picked it up, looking for a spot to relocate it so it didn’t die on Night One.
“Don’t move it. It’ll get too much sun and die.”
With a sigh, Maverick put it back down and mentally wished it luck.
“It likes the north-facing window here, and it’ll do best with less light and more water. Not like the spider plant in your living room. They can survive almost anywhere, as well as being under the care of inattentive owners. I expect you to keep that one alive.”
“Okay.”
She grabbed the broom from the hall, and they went back downstairs. She put the broom away, then headed for the door. “In the fridge is bean salad, fried chicken, biscuits—”
“Mom, I’m in training. No carbs. No fats. At least not most of those.” What was going on? She knew this.
“The food’s not for you.” She patted his flat belly and picked up her purse, which she’d dropped near the door on her way in.
“Hired hand?” Maverick asked.
“Daisy-Mae.”
“Are you two having dinner here or something?”
“You need to invite her over, have a long conversation, and figure things out. You’re being stupid. A woman needs to feel like…” She paused, her gaze growing unfocused before it snapped back to him. She sighed, suddenly looking tired. “Let her know you care. Let her know she’s your choice at the end of every. Single. Day.” She poked him in the stomach.
“She knows that.”
“It’s early days in your relationship. It’s easy to feel insecure with you never being around.”
“Daisy-Mae isn’t—”
“She’s human, just like the rest of us. You’re a big famous man who could have any woman, and she might feel as though you’re not choosing her any longer—like you got what you needed.”
“I’m not like that.”
“You need to be patient and fair to her. Your life just went completely insane, and she’s never experienced anything like this. It’s an adjustment.” He opened his mouth to argue, and she added firmly, “This is different from pageants.”
“So I’m supposed to say no to the money that will set us up for life?”
“What’s the cost of saying yes?”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know how you two find time to see each other.” She gave him a pointed look that made him feel guilty, like he was choosing money over his fiancée. Which he wasn’t. He was choosing money for his fiancée. Daisy-Mae had never had it easy. He could give that to her. She could have a cushion that would give her the confidence to take risks with her career without worrying about what she’d eat if she got fired. Daisy-Mae was amazing, and he wanted to give her everything.
“She understands, Mom. She helped me get here. We’ll be okay.”
He felt like a liar. Things seemed to be getting worse rather than better right now. She understood, but there was a piece missing from his picture. Was it really as simple as her wanting more time with him and feeling insecure? For some reason he didn’t want to believe that.
His mom opened the door, and he held it for her, his gaze catching on the rooster planted in his front yard. His heart ached for those lazy hours he’d carved out with Daisy-Mae not that long ago. Those hours that were so impossible to find these days. Was she just missing those moments as much as he was? Was it possible she needed them even more than he did?
“She’s been pushing aside a lot in her life for you,” his mom said.
“She’s got boundaries.”
“I know. But how many times has she let you down lately? Not been there when you need her?”
“Daisy-Mae isn’t like that.”
“And how many times have you not shown up for her lately?”
“That’s—”
“Don’t say different.” She gave him one of those mom stares that made him straighten up and stop arguing. “Make sure you keep showing her how special she is to you.”
“I tell her.”
“Also try listening,” she snapped. “I said show her. The poor woman probably feels abandoned.” As she walked to her car, he was pretty sure he also heard her mutter something about stupidity and men, but he wasn’t confident.
As he watched his mom’s car pull out, he was left doing some mental math on how many times he’d let his fiancée down lately. It was a startling number nobody should be proud of.
* * *
Daisy-Mae had barely heard a peep out of Maverick over the past 48 hours until he’d shot her a text that afternoon, inviting her over. Curious as to where they stood since their fight, she stood in his living room on Monday night as the setting sun streaked it with rays of pastel colors.
She stopped in the middle of the room. “What happened?” The room had a totally different vibe to it. Less bachelor and more homey. “When did you get plants?”
Maverick had moved to the kitchen, and she heard the clinking of plates. She went to the doorway to see what he was up to.
“I thought we’d have supper. And talk about things.”
“What kind of things?” she asked slowly.
It had been tense between them since Myles’s wedding, and when he’d texted to ask her to come over, her first thought was that he was going to dump her. Now she was circling back to that fear.
She glanced at the food he was laying out, paused, then came closer. “What is this?” It looked suspiciously like food she loved. Food he couldn’t eat while he was in training. “Are you sucking up?”
“Don’t look so insulted.”
“You left me at Myles’s wedding.”
“I didn’t leave you there.” His cheeks reddened. “You were the one who wasn’t there when I arrived at the reception.”
“After you asked me to the whole entire event, then bailed!” Her voice was shaking. “I ended up wearing the same color gown as the bridesmaids. I looked like I was trying to weasel my way into the family. And you weren’t even there. Everybody thought we’d broken up and I was making a desperate grab for Myles.”
Maverick stared at her. “Who said that?”
“Nobody. It’s just… Never mind.” She inhaled slowly, struggling to rein herself back in.
Maverick was still studying her, and she wanted to hide.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, eyes cast downward. “I didn’t think about what it might feel like to be at your ex’s wedding. I know you two are still friends, and I knew a lot of friends and family would be there, so I didn’t think about how it might feel to not have me there.” He finally looked up, his eyes pained. “Especially on Valentine’s Day. I’m sorry.”
Her anger fizzled.
“Yeah.” She leaned against the counter, feeling strangely defeated. “I should be stronger.”
“You were with him a long time.”
“Not that kind of stronger.”
“The same dress thing?” He tried for a half smile to see if he could coax her out of her mood. His expression was so hopeful, so boyish, she had to laugh. She loved this man. She just wished it all was a little easier right now.
But maybe true love wasn’t supposed to be simple and perfect. Maybe that was all some line that had been packaged and sold to her over the years, and she’d believed it because it sounded absolutely wonderful.
“What are you going to eat?” she asked, gesturing to the fried chicken, bean salad, and biscuits.
“It’s cheat day. And beans are on Athena’s Green list of foods.”
“Yeah, but old farts like you don’t get cheat days. And if you eat only the bean salad, you’ll be an old fart in an all-new kind of way.”
He gave her one of those grins that made her heart flip. She was such a sucker for him. And it looked like he was a sucker right back.
So, they weren’t broken up. And it didn’t look like they were heading there either. The lift of relief felt like a weighted blanket being tossed off of her. She hadn’t even realized how much it had been weighing her down until it was gone.
They still had their issues, of course.
“Here.” He started to dish food out for her. “How much do you want?”
She took over. “I can do it.”
“Do you want to eat outside?”
“Why are you buttering me up?”
“Because I love you.” He seemed nervous again.
“And?”
“We need to talk.”
Daisy-Mae hated that phrase. So much.
“I know.” She dropped the serving spoon into the container of bean salad a little too hard and stormed out the kitchen door with her plate, sending a gray cat scurrying away. Once outside, Daisy-Mae didn’t know where she was supposed to go, and she slowed, waiting for Maverick.
He appeared a moment later and gestured toward the barn.
“I don’t want to eat in the barn.”
“There’s a nice view just behind it.” He had a fuzzy, cream-colored blanket slung over his arm. Wonderful for cozying under while watching a movie, but absolutely horrible for using as a picnic blanket. They’d surely ruin it. She thought about pointing out the error of his choice but decided that since he was trying, she needed to sit back and see where it took them.
Maverick led her to a small knoll that was dotted with wild strawberry plants. In a few months the hill would be speckled with the tiny red bombs of flavor. And right now they had a stupendous view of a field of early blooming bluebells.
Maverick spread out the blanket, and Daisy-Mae sat beside him. The view was gorgeous. Despite the setting sun, the day was still warm enough to sit without getting a chill.
“I’m sorry I’ve been so busy and have had to cancel on you so many times. I realized, like you said outside the Longhorn that day, that you’re the one doing all the bending. And because you helped me get here, and had been in pageants, I sort of assumed you were well-versed in fame and attention and being busy.”
“It’s just been so overwhelming and sudden. I’m not not okay with it. At least on some levels,” she said carefully.
“But?”
“It feels like I’m not a priority. It feels like you’re always dropping me and assuming I’ll be here waiting for you, no matter what. Like I’m a loyal dog who’s happy with any drop of your attention.” She could hear the hurt in her voice, and she hated herself for it.
“Daisy-Mae, you’re not.”
“I know!” She blinked back the sudden wetness in her eyes. “I know that.”
“I’ve been working hard and saying yes to everything because I thought it was what you wanted me to do.”
“But it’s your career! Not mine. I’m not the boss of you.”
“I thought you wanted this for us. It was the goal.”
“To never be around each other? I’m not like my parents. I waited, Maverick. I waited for a really long time to find a love like ours. I didn’t settle and I’m not about to start now.”
“So enough is enough?” he asked, his concentration on his chicken.
She fought back tears, worried that he was angling toward her worst fear. But that would mean that everyone had been wrong about setting boundaries and telling him what she needed. And if you couldn’t do those two things with the man you loved, then what good was their relationship?
“I wanted the world to see you the way I do,” she said softly.
They had put their meals aside, frustration and hurt flowing off them both.
“But now everyone wants a piece of you, and there’s nothing left for me.”
Maverick shifted closer, carefully setting her hands in his. “You were the one who was always there for me. When nobody else was. You saw the truth. You saw me.” He slowly leaned forward so he was in her line of sight. “I would quit hockey, Daisy-Mae. But I wouldn’t quit you.”
Tears came out of nowhere, spilling over in a torrent. “That’s not true,” she whispered. Hockey was his everything.
“It is true.” He shifted so he was facing her, his body pressed against hers. “You’re the most important thing to me. I got caught up in it all, but I want you to know this one very important thing.”
He paused long enough that she said, “Okay.”
“You say I quit, then I quit.”
“Mav! I’d never!”
“You call the shots. You’re my captain. You’re my first team. Always and forever.”
* * *
“Maverick, will you marry me?”
Maverick’s heart swelled at the earnestness of Daisy-Mae’s request. She looked relaxed for the first time since she’d stepped into his house earlier. His absence had been weighing on her, and she’d had those fears his mom had suggested. He felt like a fool for not noticing it. He’d quickly become caught on that treadmill, thinking he was doing all of this for them and that it would be okay to get insanely busy so soon in their relationship—in any relationship. That they had already built a foundation strong enough that they wouldn’t hit potholes that jarred the doors right off their vehicle.
She wasn’t going to let him quit hockey, but she needed him to back off accepting so many deals. Most of that income would go to taxes anyway. So why was he busting himself to go get them? Because Louis thought it would elevate the team.
He almost shook his head at himself. The team was important, but not more important than his relationship.
“For real,” she said. “Let’s elope.”
“But you hate the idea of eloping.”
“I know.”
“Your opinion has changed?”
“No, but if we have to wait for things to slow down in order to plan the wedding we want, it’s going to take us years.”
“Years? What if I retire or say no to more deals?” He’d signed a flurry of contracts over the past several weeks, afraid they’d get yanked back if he hesitated or public opinion turned again. He’d be consumed with extra work for quite a few months, but maybe he could spread some of it out a bit more to give himself and Daisy-Mae more time together.
“You’re not retiring, Maverick Blades, number 53, captain of the San Antonio Dragons. Not yet, anyway. I can handle the time commitment problem, as long as I know you love me and that you’ll start making me a priority and say no to things sometimes. Plus, saying no will make you more desirable because you’ll be less available. You know what they say about playing hard to get?”
He laughed, pulling her into his arms. Their blanket had attracted most of the vegetation from the knoll already, making it a pretty nice barn blanket for the cats. But he didn’t care. He’d buy another one. This moment was worth a lot more.
“You know, there’s this old law on the books here in Texas,” he said.
“Where we declare we’re married in public three times and poof! We are?”
“Think it would hold up?”
“Maybe we could put a little more effort into our wedding than that.”
“Okay.” He brushed her cheek with his thumb. “How about we elope? We sneak off for two or three days?”
“You don’t have that kind of time off during the season.”
“I’ll skip some practices. Can’t skip a game, though.”
“Yeah?” She was perking up. She liked this crazy plan.
“We’ll leave right after a game and then arrive back just in time for another.”
“Where would we go?”
He shrugged. “Where do you want to go?”
She smiled, dreaming.
“Then we’ll have the summer to pull together plans for a real wedding before training camp. Maybe a fall wedding? September before the season officially starts?”
She nodded.
“We’ll hire Cassandra to do most of the work because she knows us enough to figure out what we’d like. We’ll have a Monday morning wedding planning date where we deal with decisions. We don’t need to taste cakes or prance around town. We’ll keep it simple.”
She laughed. “Simple?”
“Are you going to be a Bridezilla?”
“I don’t have time to be that. And as long as our wedding is closed to the press and any snooty types, I don’t care if we even have tablecloths.”
“We’ll have that wedding. And it’ll be good enough.”
She frowned. “Good enough? You don’t want it to be perfect?”
“As long as you’re there, it’ll be perfect.”
He could see her considering his idea of streamlining their planning, getting strategic and letting the details go.
“And then once we’re married,” he said as she snuggled closer, “you can move in here. I can move into the apartment. We’ll live together in two places instead of apart and in four.”
She beamed at him. “And suddenly we’ll have more time together!”
“That was why you wanted to elope, wasn’t it?”
“Partly.”
“It’s a good plan.”
She was nodding, thinking. Starting up that big sunshine mind-melting smile of hers. He realized it had been a few weeks since he’d seen it last, and he vowed he’d never get so caught up in something again that he forgot what was most important in his life—making Daisy-Mae smile.
“And date night,” he said decisively. “We’re going to have one of those every week.”
“Where we’ll choose invitation paper and fonts?” she teased.
“No, where I take you out and show you just how special you are to me. Even if I have to fly you out to Colorado or Calgary or wherever I have a game.”
She opened her mouth to protest—probably over the cost or the fact that she had to work regular business hours and couldn’t fangirl her way around the world after him.
“I’m telling Miranda that I’m stealing you away from time to time and that she’s just going to have to accept it.”
“You can’t! I’ll get fired!”
“They’d never fire you. Have you seen our ticket sales lately? The number of fans wearing our swag at games? Swag that you created, I might add. Miranda sees the impact of what you’re doing.”
“I still have to work certain hours.”
“Going to our competitor’s games is research,” he said firmly.
She giggled at his seriousness. “I love you.”
“And I love you. How does that sound for a plan?”
“It sounds—dare I say it—perfect.”