Maverick’s side, where Daisy-Mae was leaning against him, felt as good as though the sun was shining on him. They had finished eating and were now strolling along the Riverwalk area downtown, the evening stretching out around them. Lights strung through the branches above twinkled as they entered under the canopy of oak trees. It was romantic, quiet.
Daisy-Mae gave him a sweet smile.
“Hey, you,” he said softly, stopping on one of the wooden footbridges arching over the slow, winding river below.
She snuggled closer, tucking into him, her expression peaceful. Back in the restaurant, he’d said yes to her dating idea, of course. And so now Daisy-Mae Ray was his girlfriend. He’d had a good feeling about tonight, and so far it was exceeding his wildest dreams of what a first date could be like.
They’d agreed to a real-fake relationship where they’d stick together for several weeks or months. He didn’t think anyone had ever wanted bad press and a poor reputation to last so long as he did right now. He wouldn’t sabotage their efforts to help the team, but he would milk every moment to show her he thought they were meant to be together—for real.
Across the river, a similar string of lights to those hanging above them lined the edge of a restaurant patio where people were having drinks. Maverick sensed a stir, their attention turning toward the bridge where he and Daisy-Mae were cuddled together. He shifted so his back was to the group as soon as the first phone lifted to take a photo.
Daisy-Mae, sensing something was up, peeked around his shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“Habit.”
“You’re hiding!”
“Like I said, habit.” He didn’t move.
“The whole reason we’re doing this is so people will see us and take photos.” She shifted him so their profiles were facing the group, renewing the stir of lifted phones.
Maverick kept his focus on Daisy-Mae, the reminder of the fake element of their night stinging like a wasp.
“Sorry,” he said. “It’s instinct to shield you.” Janie had hated the publicity of dating him, and even though they’d broken up more than four years ago, the habit of shying away still ran deep. Having bad press for the past year hadn’t helped his desire to avoid being front and center, either.
But with Daisy-Mae it was more that he wanted to keep their relationship private so it could grow naturally. It was too important to him to let the public mess it up.
However, that wasn’t part of the deal.
He sighed, giving in, turning to smile at the cameras. “Is this better?”
He peeked down at her. She was playing with his shirt, smoothing it, resting her hands flat on his chest, looking up at him, smiling. Posing.
“Maybe we should kiss.” She blushed, her teeth softly capturing her lower lip for a brief second.
“I don’t want our first kiss to belong to everyone else.” He wanted it to be just them sharing that moment.
Her body softened against his. “You’re pretty romantic for a real-fake boyfriend.”
“I try.”
She gave him one of those sunshiny smiles that made life feel as though everything was possible. He’d never figured out why Myles hadn’t tied Daisy-Mae down the first chance he’d had as a teen. It wasn’t like marriage straight out of high school was unheard of around Sweetheart Creek. And she was the kind of woman who caused a man to stop thinking, make poor decisions, and let out their inner caveman. You’d swear until you were blue in the face that you’d never get married. Then she walked by and it was all you could do to slide your ring on her finger before anyone else could.
That about summed up Daisy-Mae Ray.
As a prime example, he even knew what kind of ring he’d buy her. Something classy that showed that he saw beyond her small-town roots. Something big. Bold. Beautiful. Expensive. Something that proved to her that he planned to pamper her for the rest of their days.
He cleared his throat, realizing he was firmly in troubled territory. Especially since that wasn’t the first time she’d called him her real-fake boyfriend tonight.
“We’re exclusive,” he said, his voice coming out gruffer than he’d planned.
“Of course.” She gave him a slight shove, then grabbed his arm, bringing him around her again. “Otherwise, what’s the point of all of this?”
“Right.”
“I’ll come to events with you and stuff like that. Like it was real.” She looked bashful, very different from the take-charge Daisy-Mae he knew. Then she blasted him with one of those full smiles again that made him feel as though he’d won the Stanley Cup.
“To help the team,” he said, more to remind himself than to clarify anything with her. “To make sure Louis doesn’t seem like a liar and further damage my image.”
She gently traced a finger down his cheek in what was simply the most seductive move he’d ever experienced. “Don’t forget, you’re also protecting me from the guys on your team through some misplaced sense of duty.”
Man, he wished there was nobody around so he could kiss her. “Are you gonna bust my chops the whole time we date?”
She gave him a flirty little twist and was out of his arms. “Of course.”
“Boy, am I ever in for it,” he said, feeling the barren chill against his side where she’d been tucked.
They began walking again, down the slope of the arched bridge, away from the patio of onlookers.
“Are you sure you can handle all of this? There’s still time to back out.” She turned, walking backward. The bridge’s boards were uneven, and she was still wearing those crazy sexy shoes. Fearing she’d tumble, Maverick caught up to her, sweeping his arms around her.
“I can definitely handle all that is Daisy-Mae Ray.” They were nose to nose, the city alive around them.
She made a soft sound, and he almost kissed her, filling in the empty beat.
He gently slipped her from his arms, taking her hand and wishing they could flee back to Sweetheart Creek to carve out enough privacy so he could finally kiss her.
* * *
Not wanting the evening to end, Daisy-Mae begged Maverick to take her to a coffee shop they both knew called The Gingerbread Café. It was a few blocks from the Dragons’ head office and meant their date would last at least an extra hour. Hopefully. Maverick, since being photographed during their walk, had been antsy to disappear. But as his girlfriend, she had a task. Make him look good and get the public to adore him in the way he deserved.
And stretch the date in case he woke up in the morning and realized this was all a very terrible idea.
Or the public decided they didn’t like her after all.
The café was hopping. Being licensed to serve alcohol, it stayed fairly busy from open to close, especially on weekends.
“Do you want to go somewhere else?” Maverick asked over the sounds of the bustling café. “There’s nowhere to sit.”
“We could grab something and walk?” she suggested, the scents of gingerbread and vanilla making her hungry.
“You sure?” His gaze dropped to her high heels.
“Yeah.” There was no way she was ending their evening early because of her feet.
His hand gently touched her lower back and shivers zipped down her spine as he guided her toward the counter where they could place their order.
Daisy-Mae couldn’t stop smiling. She wanted to shout out that Maverick Blades had said yes to her. They were out on a date.
But it was fake. Not fully real, she reminded herself. Although almost real. Pretty much real.
Their relationship had an expiration sometime after Maverick’s reputation was back on solid ground. When that would be, she didn’t know, but she hoped for her own sake it would take a year or two. Or however long it took Maverick to realize he couldn’t live without her.
A crowd of men chatting near the counter shifted, parting to let them through, eyeing her and her out-of-place outfit.
“Promise me something,” Maverick murmured in her ear as they waited in line.
“What?”
“You’ll tell me if you want out early. Any reason.”
Her heart dropped. She’d been expecting a sweet something, not a reminder of why they were here in the first place.
“Of course,” she said lightly, hoping her voice didn’t betray her. “And you, too.”
Blindly, Daisy-Mae ordered a hot drink at the long bar, the barista waving off Maverick’s offer to pay. Beside them was a display of beautifully decorated gingerbread men cookies which she knew were there all year and not just when Christmas was slowly approaching.
“Daise?”
She blinked, realizing Maverick had given her a nickname. She didn’t mind it. It was better than Froggy—one he’d tried on eons ago and she’d quickly squelched.
He locked his gaze on hers, sending warmth all the way down to her chilly toes. “I won’t.”
“Won’t what?”
“Want out early.”
“Oh.” She nodded, her head feeling light with the firmness of his answer. “Okay.”
A woman a ways down the bar was sliding closer, her eyes pinned on Maverick. “You’re Maverick Blades, aren’t you?”
Okay, Daisy-Mae could kind of see why the recognition thing got a bit tiring for him. Was it really like this everywhere he went? She’d never noticed it being this bad before.
The woman sat on the stool next to Maverick, one hand casually pulling the hem of her skirt higher, giving him a full view of thigh.
“He’s taken,” Daisy-Mae said, leaning forward to speak around him. She winced, realizing she could be overstepping. But no, they were on a date, and in the eyes of the public, he was taken. By her.
The woman’s smile fell as she turned to Maverick for confirmation. “Are you?”
“Afraid so,” he said cheerily, sliding an arm around Daisy-Mae’s shoulder and planting a warm kiss on her forehead that made her knees go shaky.
He collected their orders, handing her the medium mocha and keeping the large dark roast coffee with one milk for himself.
“Does that happen often?” she asked, looking over her shoulder as he held the door for her. The flirt was pouting, watching Maverick go. Daisy-Mae knew it wasn’t a terrible view. The man didn’t have any bad angles.
“Does what?” Maverick’s gaze was on her lips as she sipped her drink in the quiet of the sidewalk. Usually there were a few tables out front, but at this time of night they were tucked away inside. “Oh. The paying thing? My buddy Dak owns this place. I helped him find the location and such, and some of the staff know me… so…”
“No, that.” She pointed to the building behind them. “The woman.”
“Oh! Uh, yeah.” He pulled the lid off his coffee and took a long drink despite its heat. “Since Lafayette.”
Daisy-Mae watched him while they walked.
“That type seems to think I’m a bad boy now. They usually flirt to make their husbands jealous and stuff like that. I don’t like to go out much.”
“That doesn’t sound very fun.”
“And so that’s why I’m single.” He laughed, rather good-natured about it all. He sobered quickly. “Or was.” He shot a quick glance her way.
“So women are nuts for bad-boy hockey players?” she asked, intrigued.
“Yeah, and how are you still single? Or were. Until me. With this. Now.”
“Sweetheart Creek.” Although for the number of football games she’d gone to with her matchmaking friend Jackie, it was a miracle she wasn’t married eight times over.
“That makes no sense. The town is all about marriage. They still have that weird New Year’s Eve tradition where you can elope if you go to that chapel on the hill like Brant and April did.”
She gave him a dry look. The way their eyes locked sent a funny feeling down to her gut. “Eloping is ridiculous.”
He chuckled at her frown. “I don’t understand the blame you’re laying on Sweetheart Creek for your single status. Doesn’t the town have the state’s youngest average marrying age or something like that?”
“The first seven-hundred generations stole all of my luck in that department.”
But now she was in a relationship with Maverick Blades, which meant things were picking up. She could feel it coming her way with as much promise as their first kiss.
* * *
Maverick stopped his car in Daisy-Mae’s driveway. She’d left the porch light on, and her fluffy white dog watched them from the front window of her living room. He wanted to keep driving, to let their first date spin into days rather than hours.
“What do you do with your dog when you’re working in the city?” he asked, turning off his car.
“April takes her. Their puppy and Ella love to play. How are the renovations coming at your place?”
He sensed she didn’t want their date to end, either. It had been a fun evening. He wasn’t sure if it was the lack of pressure because this was part business or because she was a friend, but this had been his best date ever. It felt natural. Full of potential and like the dates he saw his friends having. Dates where easy companionship led to weddings.
“The renovations are too slow for my mom’s tastes,” he said, answering her question.
“I thought she had her own place?”
“She does. I was planning to do the work on the house over a few years. You know, have the place ready by the time I retire from the league.”
“You’re retiring soon?”
He shrugged. In professional sports your retirement could happen at any time.
“You’ll retire to Sweetheart Creek?”
He nodded, and he could have sworn her shoulders dropped a notch as she relaxed.
“Why is your mom in a hurry?”
“I’m not sure. My best guess is that she thinks I’ll get impatient and hire someone. I’ve done it before.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“She said my places were impersonal and pretentious.”
Daisy-Mae laughed, reclining against the headrest. She was comfortable with him, and that brought a surge of pleasure. He’d worried she might feel it was weird to date him after him being the “friend” for so many years.
“So your mom is doing it all?”
“She’s taken over. She likes bossing me and a few contractors around.”
“Do you mind?” Daisy-Mae shifted in the seat, facing him more fully. One long leg peeked out from the slit in her dress.
“No, but she’s quite the taskmaster. I get this weird feeling in my stomach every time I pass a hardware store now. Like she’s going to jump out and drag me inside and make me buy shower curtains and silicone, then watch YouTube videos on home repairs.”
“Why’s that? Experience?”
“I think most people call it trauma.”
She laughed loud enough her dog started barking from inside the house.
“I heard your ranch is a woman-free zone.” There was a teasing hint in her tone.
“It is,” he said somberly.
“Why?”
“It’s my escape from the world. My retreat.” He shifted, unsure how to explain without insulting her. Especially since he could see her breaking his rule and coming over—welcomed, even. “It’s not somewhere I take my dates.”
“I see.”
“Not that…well, friends can come over. It’s just that I…” He couldn’t find the right words to express that this was his retreat from the world. A safe place with no drama.
“It’s a sanctuary?”
“When my mom isn’t there handing me a hammer or an oil can, it is.” He gave her a smile to show he didn’t actually mind his mom giving him tasks. With her direction, the house was shaping up a lot faster than he’d anticipated. That and the eagerness of his teammates to come over and help. Somehow working on his place on their days off had become a thing. Maybe because his mom kept them all fed, and some players lived far away from their own families and his mom made them feel welcome.
“What happened to your beach house? I heard you sold it because you’re broke.” The cab of the car was dark, but the light from her porch caught the twinkle in her eyes even though her tone was soft, curious.
He let out a huff of amusement. “Yeah. And the police had to break up drug parties there, too.” Her eyes widened, and he quickly spilled the truth in case she actually believed him and the stories. “No, none of that. The place was gorgeous, but it never really felt like home. I hired Katie Reiter-Leham—I believe she’s a friend of your friend Mandy from Blueberry Springs?”
“Oh? That’s so cool!”
“Yeah, so she was in town while her husband was doing something medical somewhere. I can’t recall the details. Anyway, she took care of the decorating.”
“But you didn’t like it?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t give her any direction. I was gone for playoffs and just wanted to have some bedding and dishes when I returned, you know? I gave her free rein. It was gorgeous, but it never felt like home.”
“I guess that makes sense if she didn’t know you, and you didn’t give her any insights. I know Brant and April loved using it for their honeymoon.”
“That’s probably the only good memory. Some friends borrowed the house for a weekend, had a big party, police came, press came…”
“Tainted?”
“Yeah.”
“What about your city apartment?”
“Sweetheart Creek has always felt like home. I like seeing trees and wildlife outside my window. Think you’ll stay?” he asked, curious if she’d soon be making the opposite move and head into the city he’d left.
It was her turn to shrug. “I don’t know. I’m sure commuting will get old. Violet’s talking about getting us a small apartment so we can crash there a few nights a week.” She was staring out across her yard, off into the darkness. He would give anything to know her thoughts right now.
It made sense for them both to live in the city. And yet, here they were. Living just outside Sweetheart Creek.
“Some of my work I can do from home. But I need a desk.”
“Yeah?” he perked up. “Need help finding one?”
“They’re pricy! At least the ones I like.”
“My mom keeps showing up with furniture. She might know where you can find something suitable.”
“Would you mind asking her? I’d like something older and with personality.”
“I can text her. She’s a bit of a night owl.” He waved his phone, pretty certain that texting your mom at the end of a date was a faux pas. Actually, things like that could be why he didn’t get many second dates. He held up his phone. “If you don’t mind?”
“No, of course. Please.”
“I just thought it might be uncool to text my mom during our date.”
Daisy-Mae giggled. “It’s fine. Really.” She rested a hand briefly over his wrist.
Maverick shot off a text, his mom getting back to him instantly.
“She wants to know what style of desk.”
Daisy-Mae frowned. “I don’t know.”
Maverick thought back to what he’d seen in her house. “You sure you want a desk? I could see you more likely to curl up in an armchair with a laptop and a fuzzy blanket.”
“That’s not very professional.”
“You’re working from home.”
“Yeah, but at a desk.”
He glanced at his phone as another text came in. “My mom wants to know if you want to go shopping next weekend? And she wants me to come so you’ll have a truck.” He glanced at Daisy-Mae. “You can just borrow it.”
Realizing his mom was playing wingman, and he’d just shot her down, he quickly amended his statement. “Actually, Sunday is our team’s day off next week. I’ll swing by and get you. You might need me if you buy something heavy. And maybe we can grab supper afterward.”
Daisy-Mae smiled. “It’s a date.”
“A date with my mother in tow?” He winced, and Daisy-Mae laughed.
“I like that you and your mom are close.”
“The supper idea included only you and me.”
“Okay.” She opened her car door, and he leapt out of his own side, suddenly nervous. He felt like he had a shot with Daisy-Mae, and he wanted to get it right. Every moment of it.
He escorted her up the steps where she paused under the porch light, unlocking her door. The barking stopped and snuffling sounds started instead.
Daisy-Mae turned back to Maverick. “I guess this is good night?”
Without another thought, he wrapped his arms around her waist, bringing her body tight to his. She felt even better than in his imagination.
“Good night,” he said, his mouth inches from hers.
“Good night, Maverick.”
Her gaze softened as he dipped his head. She stretched her neck slightly, angling her mouth upward to connect with his.
He kissed her softly. Her lips were sweet with chocolate from her earlier mocha, and before he could let himself get lost in her, he ended the kiss, hoping he was leaving her wanting more. A lot more.
Because if nothing else, he was a horrible, despicable man for the way he loved every second of the heated electric touch of his best friend’s ex’s lips upon his own. If kissing Daisy-Mae was sinning, save him a seat in hell because he wanted to do this all day long for the rest of his life.