Maverick dropped an article on Louis’s desk in the small office just off the locker room. “What’s going on?”
Maverick’s hands were shaking, and the feeling of betrayal stung deep.
Louis barely even glanced at the printout. He leaned back in his chair, watching Maverick.
“Wait…” Maverick said slowly. Louis knew about the photos of Maverick with Daisy-Mae and wasn’t upset. The photographer had been hired by the team… So that meant…
Maverick placed the heels of his hands against his temples and pushed. This was bad. Really bad. He folded his two-hundred-and-ten-pound build into the chair across from Louis. In hockey, he was considered big. But in this office that smelled faintly of locker room, sitting in this stupid trendy leather chair, he felt even bigger, like nothing fit right. He bent over, trying to quiet his racing mind.
“Tell me you didn’t authorize this.” He peered upward long enough to see Louis swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He looked like that man Maverick had cornered in a bar for harassing the waitress.
“I approved the photos, yes.”
Maverick slumped. He hadn’t expected this. Not from Louis.
His coach sat up straighter. “If you won’t tell everyone what really happened in Lafayette, then the team has to do what it has to do.”
Maverick exploded out of his seat, arms in the air. “This is as bad as before with all the lies and deceit.” He pointed in the direction of Lafayette, his old team, the press that had hounded him. He was shouting and someone closed the office door. “Telling the world that Daisy-Mae and I are an item—” His mind froze for a second. He’d seen her earlier in the day and she’d been hands-down sexy in her new work wardrobe, giving him long, heated glances that made him want to hit the elevator’s Stop button and mess up her lipstick.
There had been no hint in her quiet body language that she was upset about anything. There’d been no dragging him out of the elevator and demanding he explain himself, the photos, the article, this entire crazy corporation.
“Have you even spoken to her?” he asked.
Louis stroked his neck like he did when he was stressed about a high-stakes game. “Maverick,” he said evenly, “it’s been months of this mess following you around. I talked to you about doing something about it at the beginning of the season. We’re into November now and you haven’t made any moves to make this better. The PR team saw an opportunity, and we took it.”
“Nobody cleared this with her? You set us up.” She was going to be justifiably angry.
Louis sighed.
“Well, I’m sure you can expect Daisy-Mae in your office at any moment. And yes, yours. She’s not dumb.” He crossed his arms. “You dragged her into my mess without asking her if she wanted to be tainted by all of this. She’s just starting out here. This could impact her career. Did you think about that?”
He felt sick to his stomach. You didn’t treat friends this way. You protected them.
Louis cleared his throat, toying with the pens on his desk. “I think this could be a good thing.” He wouldn’t look at Maverick.
“It’s finally come down to money mattering most, hasn’t it? What if I say no to all of this? Are you going to fire me?”
“Maybe.” Louis shifted forward in his seat.
He felt his jaw slacken as he realized how serious Louis was. The man had always been in his corner. Always.
He sagged into his abandoned chair.
“What if I deny this?” He pointed to the article. It was mostly photos. A few lines about him, Daisy-Mae, their friendship and careers. His throat tightened, and the walls felt like they were pressing in on him. He wanted these photos to be true. He wanted what this article was selling.
“I don’t think anyone will believe you,” Louis said quietly, as though embarrassed by voicing the truth.
“I thought this photographer you had shadow me was supposed to help.”
Louis spun the papers, shoving them Maverick’s way. “Look.”
“I already have.”
“No. Impartially. Objectively. Not as some alpha trying to protect the woman you have the hots for.”
Geez. Was he that transparent?
Reluctantly Maverick obeyed and pulled the papers off the desk. He didn’t want to look at the photos, didn’t want to admit to himself or to Louis that he was cornered and possibly facing the end of his career if he didn’t accept the sudden change of rules.
“This is literally the only helpful stuff he got after tailing you for almost two weeks. You’re a hermit.”
“I thought everyone told me to lay low,” he grumbled.
The first shot in the article was of Daisy-Mae leaning in at Myles’s party. Her long hair was tickling his sleeve, and both of them were smiling as though sharing a private joke. He remembered that moment. She was dishing it back after he’d teased her about the promotion. The look she’d given him when she’d realized he’d helped her had hit him hard in the gut. Her expression had suggested nobody had ever helped her out like that. Which couldn’t possibly be true. But it made him want to help her all the more.
He curled the papers into a tube in his hands. “The staff won’t take her seriously if they think she’s dating me.”
“Why not?”
“It’ll look like nepotism. Like you hired my girlfriend.”
“They hired her before this article says you started dating.”
He uncurled the pages. “Or they’ll call her a puck bunny. Or…” He looked at the photos again. Daisy-Mae wasn’t wearing her usual sexy attire. It was more subdued. She was wearing cowboy boots, hat, and jeans, but her shirt covered more skin than normal. She looked like a beautiful professional woman who held an amazing position on the team.
Which meant she was dating a dumb jock. He was the one punching above his dating grade.
Maverick exhaled and rubbed his face, trying to collect his thoughts. He felt like he didn’t know which way was up any longer. This whole thing was a violation, but every argument he reached for failed to help him make his case.
“Look…” Louis’s voice was soft in a way that caused Maverick’s guard to go up. “You’re both in your thirties. If love hasn’t happened for either of you, what’s the harm in a small masquerade for the betterment of the team?”
Maverick popped out of his seat, tossing the article on Louis’s desk. “I can find my own date, thank you.”
“You don’t like her?”
“She’s a friend.” He towered over Louis’s desk, pushing the tip of his finger against its smooth surface. “And I’m not going to ask her to have a fake relationship with me. I won’t tie her up so she can’t find the love of her life. My problems are not her responsibility.”
If love happened between them, he’d welcome it. But not like this. This wasn’t an honest way to start a relationship, and with Daisy-Mae he wanted nothing but the real thing.
Louis shifted the papers, pointing to the photo on the second page. Daisy-Mae was looking at Maverick like she wanted him to kiss her. How the photographer had gotten that close without them noticing he had no clue. Had they really been that wrapped up in each other’s worlds?
He didn’t need an answer to that. Any time Daisy-Mae stepped into the room, he forgot everything. Even hockey.
“You two obviously like each other. What’s the problem with riding this wave?”
“It’s a lie.”
“I can set up a press conference so you can call me a liar in public to make yourself feel better, but nobody’s going to believe it. In fact, this story is already running in a few places.” Louis’s voice lowered even though Maverick had moved further away, toward the door. “And the press is actually positive for once.”
Maverick halted, hope and his righteousness battling each other. The world wanted to see him with Daisy-Mae?
“As well, several agents have received calls this morning. The good kind.”
Sponsorship deals for rookies? He turned to face Louis. The man was serious.
“Coincidental,” he said, dismissing the idea of his article being connected. “It’s too soon for anyone to change their mind about me or the team and start offering deals.”
Louis slowly shook his head, and Maverick came back to sit across from Louis’s desk. Suddenly this may no longer only be a matter of pride or protecting Daisy-Mae from the disaster of his life.
He glanced through the pages of photos again. He and Daisy-Mae looked like the real deal. But why was the public loving this?
Because Daisy-Mae was beautiful and glowing, and he looked like he’d do anything for her.
It looked like love.
He sighed. “I don’t know what to do with any of this, but you’re the one who has to explain this all to Daisy-Mae and figure it out.”
The office door flew open and there was his pretend girlfriend, flushed, her forehead creased. She was wearing a fitted white blouse, black slacks with a zipper up the side, and heeled ankle boots with a white rose stitched into the black leather. Maverick didn’t think he’d ever seen a woman looking as tall—or as angry—as Daisy-Mae Ray. There was a fire in her eyes, and her body was taking up more space than Landon protecting his net. He swore he heard Louis gulp.
Despite how twisted it might make him, Maverick hoped he left this meeting with Daisy-Mae as his girlfriend.
* * *
“Really? Really?” Daisy-Mae marched over to Louis’s desk, ignoring Maverick who had sat up straight when she’d arrived. “Do you not ask your photographers to sign something when you hire them so they can’t release photos without approval?”
“Daisy-Mae, I…”
“What? You’re sorry your photographer sold out the man he was hired to help?”
What if Maverick believed that she’d slipped a few bills to the cameraman and asked him to make up this story? It wouldn’t be a giant leap for anyone after the way her mom had announced at Myles’s party that Daisy-Mae should entrap a player. The only question would be why the photographer took so long to sell her story.
“Well, actually…”
“Is this some sort of ill-informed publicity stunt? You’re a coach, not in PR. Because this is the opposite of what Maverick needs! You’re supposed to coach him. And when you’re not doing that, protect and help him.” She turned to Maverick, who was watching her attentively. “You need to call your agent because this is pure crap.”
Maverick pointed to Louis, forehead creasing.
“What?” she demanded, turning back to Louis.
“The press has actually been quite positive about the idea of the two of you dating.”
She cleared her throat, trying to act like that little fact didn’t completely blast through her resolve to stay angry. She wanted to melt, sit down and ask for a full retelling of the public’s reaction.
“It’s a lie!” She turned to Maverick. “Unless I missed you asking me out at some point?”
His hands were clasped between his knees, and his lips were pulled into a frown. He looked calm, steady. And incredibly hot in his jeans and pressed white shirt. The dampness in his hair from his post-workout shower. That chin. That jawline. The depth of his gaze which kept pulling her into his orbit.
Her mind wanted to race down dangerous avenues that were definitely not open to traffic. Little did this man know that he was one of her biggest fantasies. She’d be over the moon if this article told the truth and he’d chosen her.
“Have a seat.” Louis gestured to the chair beside Maverick. She paused for a second, but Maverick shrugged, not looking nearly as perturbed as she thought he should.
“You two look natural together,” Louis said. “Everyone can see it.”
“We’re friends.” Daisy-Mae wrapped her arms around herself, cursing herself for flirting with him so steadily at the party. “This is…is slanderous or something! It’s defrauding the public, and it’s going to make Maverick look even worse when the truth comes out.”
Beside her, Maverick was grinning.
“What?” Daisy-Mae flashed him a look. He was not helping his case at all. He should be more upset than she was. It was his reputation at stake.
“I’ve never had anyone defend me like this. It’s sexy.”
“Well, it’s about time someone did.” She turned back to Louis, long finger extended at him. “How are you going to fix this?”
“I’m not in the PR department!” He raised his hands in surrender.
“They told me you approved and collaborated. That makes all of this your problem.”
Louis gave a small cough and shot Maverick an alarmed look. He sat a little straighter. “Define fix.”
Daisy-Mae blinked, unsure. This was about where her anger and plan ran out. Her and her loud mouth. “You tell me.”
“This was an attempt to help Maverick,” Louis stated carefully. “It wasn’t anyone’s intention when the photographer was hired to make up a relationship, but we can’t deny the fact that it’s been less than twenty-four hours since it went live, and it’s helping.”
“You…” Daisy-Mae couldn’t find the words. She looked at Maverick. His eyes were closed, and it appeared as though he was doing some deep breathing techniques.
“The papers are loving it. It’s spreading like wildfire and everyone wants to know who you are.” Louis sat back, looking rather pleased with himself.
Daisy-Mae was itching to learn more, but she stayed focused on her waning anger.
“So now we’re a thing?” Daisy-Mae said, a hint of disgust in her tone that she hadn’t meant. She wanted Maverick to choose her. Not get stuck with her. When he kissed her—if he kissed her—she wanted it to be real. She wanted to feel whatever she felt with him without the constant thought he was just faking it all. And this—this would all be fake from start to finish.
“Hey, I’m a catch, you know,” Maverick grumbled from beside her.
“I know.” Daisy-Mae barely glanced at him, her focus on Louis. “But this is manipulative!”
“Have you looked at the article, Daisy-Mae?” Louis asked carefully. “Really looked at it?”
He pushed a printout closer, and she hazarded a peek. Earlier, when she’d first saw the photos, she hadn’t recognized herself. But it was no wonder everyone thought they were an item. She was leaning way too close to Maverick. And that look she was giving him? Wow. Lovesick much? She was like a cartoon heroine swooning over a hero.
She swallowed, more than a little embarrassed, and glanced at Louis, then back to the article. In these photos she looked like someone. Someone she’d always wanted to be. Someone who dated highflyers and belonged with them.
A few weeks ago she’d ducked into Jenny’s shop in Sweetheart Creek to find something that said Serious Professional Woman Working in the City. She’d found a few items but then had ended up in San Antonio with some friends, one of them the best designer bargain shopper ever, Mandy Mattson from Blueberry Springs. It was a good thing her friend lived way up north because they’d given Daisy-Mae’s credit card a healthy workout. One it couldn’t afford to do very often. But she’d found that amazing balance between sexy and professional. Fitted blouses, black pants, and heels for work. But with a classy, sexy twist, and some Texas style. Some of her makeover had spilled over into her casual wardrobe as well. And judging by these photos, the makeover had done the trick. She had finally outgrown her trailer park roots and arrived. And she’d arrived with Maverick Blades leaning in, his shoulder pressed against hers, smiling like he adored her.
Had he known ahead of time that this fake article was going to be leaked? Had he been instructed to find a mark at the party and she’d willingly swooned when given his undivided attention?
“I want what’s best for Maverick,” she said softly, pushing the papers back at Louis. “He’s a good man. A friend.”
She forced herself not to say more, to believe that he wasn’t behind this.
“This is helping Maverick and our team,” Louis said, gesturing to the article. “Rookies couldn’t get deals, but their phones are ringing today. Because of this.”
There was no way that could be true. Daisy-Mae glanced at Maverick. He nodded.
“Fans seem to like seeing you together.” Louis slid a piece of paper across his desk.
It was a printout from social media. A photo of her with Dezzie Dragon in the players’ box during a practice with Maverick leaning over the gate to chat with her. Both of them were full of smiles. Someone had snapped it during an open-to-the-public practice while she and Violet had been practicing moving around the arena. The headline said “I knew it!”
“Can I see?” Maverick asked, reaching for the page. He glanced at it, his expression softening. “Remind me to follow this account.” He placed the photo back on Louis’s desk.
“Nice to see something positive for once, huh?” Louis smiled at Maverick who nodded.
“This isn’t true though,” Daisy-Mae pointed out.
“Fighting or denying this may make a bigger mess for Maverick,” Louis warned.
“So what do we do?”
“Why don’t the two of you consider this?” Louis said amicably. “Go out for supper—”
“So you can have more photos taken?” Maverick asked.
“Yeah?” Daisy-Mae backed him up.
“And the team will pay the tab as an apology,” he said in a calm tone no doubt meant to soothe their ruffled feathers. “You both work hard for the Dragons. And if nothing else, you can celebrate the fact that one rookie was already offered a sponsorship deal on the tail of this news.” Louis tapped the papers on his desk. “Ultimately, what you decide to do in your private lives is none of the team’s business.”
But what if dating Maverick was part of her new contract? One of those clauses that weren’t written down because they were illegal but would be reinforced by her contract not being renewed if she didn’t play nicely?
And if it was decided that they should continue this public ruse, hanging out with Maverick like they were a couple wouldn’t exactly cramp her style or any immediate dating plans.
“Wait.” Daisy-Mae ran Louis’s words through her head again. “You’re saying that rookies weren’t getting deals? But this has only been out for a few hours…”
“The sponsor asked about the two of you.”
“And you said what?” Maverick asked.
“The PR team informed them that neither of you are married, and that you’ve been friends since you were kids. They ate it up.” He shrugged again. “You two look good together and have that magic everyone can see.”
“But…” There had to be a clincher of a reason to say absolutely no to this crazy idea. She turned to Maverick. “What if true love comes along, but you’re pretending to date me?”
“I doubt that would be a problem.” He wouldn’t look at her.
“Why?”
He was silent for a long beat. “Because I’m unlucky in love.”
“No. You’re fussy. You barely even dated in high school.”
“I’ve always been busy with hockey—which is where I am lucky. I can’t have a horseshoe with me in every area of my life. It’s difficult to find someone who understands my lifestyle.”
“You’re fussy.”
“Fine. I’m fussy. I’m searching for the right princess to wear the glass slipper I keep in my back pocket.” The way he looked at her seized her lungs. It felt like he was carrying that slipper for her, waiting for her to extend her foot. Maybe she should have said yes to the PR duo dressing her up in a princess gown.
“So. Supper. Tonight?” Louis asked, the hope in his voice clear.
“Tonight?” Maverick asked Daisy-Mae, his eyebrows lifted.
“Nobody goes on a date on Monday night,” she replied, putting her proverbial foot down. A princess had to set some ground rules, after all.
Maverick gave her a slow smile of approval. “Friday?”
“Friday you have an away game.”
Maverick glanced at Louis, who nodded.
“Fine, Saturday? I’m free?”
Again Louis nodded.
“I’ll be all yours—any time you want.”
She extended her proverbial foot for his glass slipper. “Saturday would be lovely.”
“And if you can swing it,” Louis said, “please come back engaged.”
* * *
If Maverick was going to do this, he was doing it right.
He hustled up the steps to Daisy-Mae’s small house in the country. He had a rare Saturday off and had spent it working on his place a few miles from hers, slowly getting it in shape. His mom had taken point on the renovation plans, and every time they went into town, she took him down yet another aisle in the hardware store. He was doubting the wisdom of not buying a new home. But the charm and history of the eighty-year-old farmhouse and ranch had won him over in an instant.
Money pit that it was.
He’d probably checked his watch a hundred times that afternoon, worried he’d be late.
On Daisy-Mae’s porch, Maverick straightened his tie, then knocked. The door swung open almost immediately, and he froze. She was drop-dead gorgeous. He’d seen her dolled up for dozens of pageants and events over the years, but this was different. This wasn’t for the stage.
This was for him.
“Are those for me?” She gestured to the tulips he was holding.
He thrust them at her, then calmed himself and cleared his throat. “They are.”
“Come in while I put them in water.”
Maverick stepped inside, allowing his gaze to follow the sway of her hips. She was wearing a cocktail dress that was tricky to describe. It was black. But when she moved, it turned a deep blue where the material curved around her. Her feet were bare, the hem of the dress grazing the carpeted floor.
She grabbed a jar, filling it with water at the sink in a very dated looking kitchen. She swiftly chopped the stems down to size before dropping the flowers into a beautiful arrangement. Her proficiency caused him to wonder how many other men had brought her bouquets. And yet, he knew not many. She’d mostly dated Myles as far as he knew, and his friend wasn’t the type to think of flowers very often. Small gifts, yes, but not so much on the flowers.
She paused over the bouquet, inhaling their scent, eyes closed in appreciation.
Her double-wide mobile home’s exterior was faded from the unrelenting Texas sun, and the yard didn’t look like much. But inside it was a burst of color, feminine touches giving it a warm and cozy vibe. The furniture was mismatched. A china cabinet along one wall sparkled as its small lights made a dazzling display of her pageant crowns and tiaras. Layers of those ribbon sash things winners wore were tacked up against the cabinet’s back wall. The awards intermingled with ancient-looking editions of some children’s classics such as The Wizard of Oz and The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. He smiled, catching sight of a tiny carved frog hiding in a tiara. The Sweet County Fair. She’d taken home the princess title that day.
Daisy-Mae had done something most wouldn’t have dared do and had sung Dig a Little Deeper from The Princess and The Frog movie, encouraging the audience to sing along to the chorus of the throaty R&B song. Later he’d given her the frog as a joke and tried to call her Froggy, but she’d given him such a dark look he’d stopped. He only pulled out the nickname on occasions he was feeling particularly suicidal. So not very often.
He could still recall the hurt in her expression when she’d won yet another crown at age seventeen and he’d told her she was more than a beauty queen. She hadn’t taken it the right way. Not even close. He’d meant that she was more than just her amazing looks and performances. She was bright and witty, but he could see the way the world was narrowing her existence to being nothing more than a pretty face. He feared she’d marry early, settle down, and that would be it. College and travel weren’t even on the horizon any longer, despite the numerous scholarships she’d won and all the plans she’d once made.
But now, with the Dragons, she was using her smarts and natural talents in a big way.
“Ready?” Daisy-Mae asked, stepping into a black pair of stilettos that matched her purse.
“Shall we?” he asked, holding the door for her.
She looked calm and collected, but he noticed her fingers trembling as they clutched her purse.
He walked her to his car, the sleek black Mustang he’d wanted as a teenager. He opened the door for her, gently holding her elbow as she got in.
She didn’t brush him off, allowing him the small gentlemanly gestures. It increased his growing suspicion that nobody had ever pampered her in quite the way he felt she deserved, but that she welcomed it.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“McKenzie’s in San Antonio. I hope you don’t mind the drive?” It was over an hour, their boring commute route. But there was nothing near Sweetheart Creek that was at the level of pampering he wanted to provide. And if they were going to pretend to see what it might be like to date, he wanted to show her exactly who he was and what he was willing to provide. There would be no regrets for playing his role too small. He was going to act like tonight was real and give her no reason to say no to more time together. He planned to dazzle her, sweep her off her feet, and help her forget any reason she felt they shouldn’t be together.
“Wow. McKenzie’s?” she said softly. She let out a slow breath, her fingers worrying the zipper on her purse.
“Have you been?” he asked.
She shook her head, looking slightly dazzled.
He shot her his finest devilish grin. “Since Louis offered to foot the bill, I figured why not, right?”
The car filled with her laughter as he hit the gas. Maverick had a feeling this was going to be the best non-date he’d ever had.
* * *
Daisy-Mae could get used to this. Maverick was at her side, his body warming her own. He gently guided her with a hand at her lower back, whispering in her ear with funny quips as they followed the maitre d’ to their table in the corner. The restaurant’s lighting was low, and each table held its own candle and real roses. The room was sweet with their floral scent, making their date feel like a Valentine’s Day dream rather than some sort of strange business meeting with her crush.
While they discussed whether they should pursue something romantic—for the team’s sake.
If this was the way it felt to be Maverick’s date, then she was all in. They hadn’t even sat down yet, and this was already ranking as one of her best dates.
He helped push in her chair before sitting across from her. They had laughed frequently during the drive, and his sweet compliments were still ringing in her ears. That and the image of his slightly gob-smacked look when she’d opened her door earlier.
It felt odd being on a date with Maverick, though. Finally. After years of wondering, of avoiding thinking about it because she didn’t dare dream. But if she’d allowed her full dreams to unspool into something detailed, it wouldn’t have compared to this.
She noticed people eyeing them, some recognizing Maverick. The waiter certainly did, and he nearly poured Daisy-Mae’s wine on her, he was so flustered by serving them.
“Is it always like this?” she asked when the waiter left, gesturing to her wineglass.
“No. Does it bother you?”
She shrugged. “Not really.”
“That’s good. Because it’s about to get weird.”
“Weird?”
She turned to find Dylan O’Neill, one of the team’s players, hobbling toward them on crutches. Daisy-Mae’s stomach sank.
“Is he joining us?” she whispered.
“Not a chance,” Maverick said, standing to shake hands as Dylan arrived. More heads turned to take in the two NHL players.
“What’s this?” Dylan asked, gesturing to Maverick’s wine glass. “I thought you were off the sauce during season, old man.”
“You can’t let a lady drink alone,” Maverick stated.
Dylan gave Daisy-Mae an incredulous look. “No, you can’t let this old geezer drink. We’ll never win a game.”
“Y’all aren’t winning games anyway,” Daisy-Mae said dryly. “May as well try something new.” She’d meant it as a joke, but as soon as the words left her mouth, she felt bad. The team was having a horrible season, and she should be way more supportive and encouraging.
“It’s true,” Maverick said with a laugh. Dylan gave a sheepish grin, the two men taking the ribbing for what it was meant to be.
“You two on a date?” Dylan asked.
“He’s trying to convince me of his worthiness,” Daisy-Mae said casually, loving the way Maverick played up her teasing with a loud groan.
“Well, when he fails the test, you let me know and I’ll introduce you to a real man.” Dylan winked.
Maverick’s hands turned to fists, and he glowered at Dylan, stony-faced.
Daisy-Mae laughed as Dylan hurried away to sit with the couple he’d come in with.
“You’re going to need to date me,” Maverick said simply, retaking his seat.
“What?” Daisy-Mae asked, amused. It was fun having two men pretend to fight over her.
“First of all, if we’re dating, then we’d no longer be lying to the world. Second, it will keep those no-good scallywags from pestering you.” He nodded toward Dylan.
“Oh, so you’d be offering protection? Because it seems like you’re being a date-blocker.”
“I don’t know what that is, but sure. It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make. They’re all worthless thugs, and if I stop running interference, you’ll need a big ol’ hockey stick to beat them off.”
“Sounds fun.” She gave him a perky smile, aware she was killing him. There was no pretending: he was flirting back. And it was fun. So much fun she found herself wishing away her years with Myles so she could have gotten to this place in her life sooner.
Then again, without the efforts of trying to make love bloom with Myles, she might not fully appreciate that the way Maverick made her feel was rare and wonderful.
“You and this makeover of yours,” Maverick said, his eyes running over her up-do, subtle makeup, and cocktail gown. “You’re nothing but sexy trouble.”
She toyed with her necklace, giving him a slow blink. “I’m a bit insulted that you feel I can’t handle the attention.”
“You really want a hockey player?” he asked. His elbow was on the table, and he was suddenly serious. “We’re always away for games from October to Spring. Always on the ice.”
“Handy.”
“Handy how?” That dark look returned.
“That’ll make it even easier for you to fake being a family man when you finally give in and settle down in one of these PR masquerades.” She winked at him.
“So, is that a yes?”
“To faking it with you?”
He gave a brief nod.
She thought about lying to her family and friends. Her father, a trucker, would be happy she’d found someone, although maybe worried about the amount of time she and Maverick would spend apart. Her mom would brag to anyone who listened and then give her a giant I-told-you-so once they did the fake breaking up part. Her friends…her friends had done a good job of pretending not to notice she was crushing on Mr. Unattainable for the past year or two. Although Violet was no longer pretending now that she’d gotten to know Maverick a bit better. She was fully on board with Daisy-Mae’s crush status, which meant she might explode with happiness for her. That could be a bit awkward.
On the flip side, it might be nice to experience having life go well for a little bit. A good job, a nice boyfriend. Not that she hadn’t had that before. It just hadn’t been quite on this level. This easy.
“It’ll be complicated,” she said at last.
“By the sounds of things, you’d really be helping out, but I understand if you don’t want to.”
“I’m not good at lying. I hate it, in fact.”
“Me, too.”
An idea came to her in a flash, and she could feel the heat hit her cheeks as she tried to summon the courage to speak it out loud.
She adjusted her cutlery, realigned her wineglass. “Maybe we could momentarily set the fake part aside and just date.”
She dared to peek at Maverick. His eyes had grown rounder.
“I mean, you know… Go on dates and stuff and I’d call you my…” She sucked in a deep breath, and said, “My boyfriend. And we’d, um, maybe kiss in public sometimes?” She scrunched her nose. “You know. For publicity. But it would be dating. For real. But we couldn’t break up. Not right away. We’d have to keep things up for a bit. Until everything was stable.”
Maverick was nodding slowly. He had a strange look on his face and she couldn’t tell if he was trying to school a smile or if he was deep in thought.
“It would help Landon,” Maverick said. “He needs a deal. Cassandra—his girlfriend—her son needs heart surgery and she can’t afford it.”
“Cassandra McTavish? Alexa’s sister? From Blueberry Creek Ranch?” Daisy-Mae felt panic like it was her own son. “Dusty’s sick?” The boy was just starting school. He had so much life ahead of him. Or at least, he should.
“Yeah. Landon would like to help, but he has a lot of debt and she won’t let him. If he had a big deal, she might say yes. But I don’t want—”
“Okay.” Daisy-Mae’s voice was so firm Maverick stopped talking.
“Okay what?”
“Maverick, hon, if you’ll take me, I’m officially your girlfriend.”