22

Maverick

After a kiss that would sear itself in my memory for the rest of my life, Bethany wrapped her arms around me and snuggled into my chest. She remained there, tucked shamelessly against me, as the night faded into morning. Cars drove past. A few people peered inside the closed store. She held me so tight, I thought she’d crawl inside me if I let her.

Wrapping my arms around her felt natural. I held her longer than was appropriate, because none of this was truly appropriate. Why would she set herself up for heartbreak? Let a visceral exchange of emotion happen when there was an expiration date on us?

She was either very brave, or very stupid.

While I worried about her, relief also flooded me. I wanted her to crawl into me. Wanted it in a way that made me feel things I hadn’t felt for any woman ever. Protectiveness. Uncertainty. Unequivocal attraction. Things that stirred my chest and gut. I didn’t like it. I’d officially stuck myself in this spot by agreeing to her audacious request.

Rock, meet hard place.

Mallory was right. Love ain’t easy.

When Bethany pulled away, hazy from fatigue, I pushed a strand of hair out of her face. Even though this was wrong, my arms stayed locked around her. Willing and reckless or not, her heartbreak would be my fault.

“Jim isn’t going to come back for a while,” I said. “You bought some time yesterday, so we’ll figure this out together, all right?”

Her fear faded. She seemed to regain her strength and solidity. The moment she pulled away, I felt regret, but let her go. She fit, and no one had ever fit.

She tilted her head back and smiled softly, utter adoration in her gaze.

How could she be so openly vulnerable? What kind of courage did it take to feel without restraint like this? I stared at her in a mixture of terror and awe. Even my own father’s death hadn’t inspired this level of honesty and emotion in me.

Years in the corporate sector had introduced me to world leaders. Billionaires. Millionaires. Fools and geniuses. Only Bethany made me marvel.

Those lips moved barely an inch from mine. Her smoky gaze, clouded with bottled adrenaline, captured me. Her kiss revealed a part of her that everybody caught glimpses of, but I wanted totally. Passion. A compulsive nature. An undeniable loyalty to whatever felt right in that moment. I wanted to draw the truth out of her and make it mine, like the swapping of souls.

She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to mine.

“Thank you, Maverick.”

I held her closer, totally unable to speak.

Bethany attacked the rest of that day with undeniable energy.

Even Lizbeth watched her, one eyebrow quirked, from over the top of her book. Bethany had found her stride again. Even tired, this woman was unstoppable.

While she stuffed pages of something into a binder and muttered a list of things left to do under her breath, I made notes in a spreadsheet and tried to keep my mind focused. My assistant was waiting for me to review three modules he’d put together. For the life of me, I kept rereading the same line.

Bethany’s bright eyes intruded on my mind. Soft lips. The heat in my belly flared again and again when I thought about that kiss.

I shouldn’t have done it.

Could not have stopped it.

Definitely wouldn’t take it back.

Today, she didn’t even try to hide her distraction. Every now and then she’d stop, stare into the distance, look up at me, and grin. My stomach felt like I’d been on a roller coaster all day.

I didn’t need to be at the shop this long. The module approval could be done tomorrow, and I’d mostly been staring at my inbox. But I couldn’t seem to stop watching her move about her life. The little things fascinated me the most. When she wore the baseball hat, then took it off. Then lost it and spent a few minutes searching, only to realize she’d stuffed it in her apron pocket.

Or the way she reflexively reached for her lipstick. Didn’t always use it, but held it when she felt a moment of uncertainty.

Her conversations with Lizbeth. Quick smiles for everyone. The way she lit up around people.

Finally, around noon, she tossed a wet towel into the sink and headed my way. She’d changed into a turquoise summer dress and white flip-flops. A binder landed in front of me with a heavy thud. I jerked out of inappropriate thoughts. Bethany stood next to the table, a hand on her cocked, curved hip.

“Is this what I think it is?” I drawled.

“Potentially. It’s hard to know what’s in your mind, Mav. Lizbeth is scouring Pinterest for a ‘really cute design that matches the general decor.’ Because, ‘Bethany, don’t be a caveman. It all must match.’”

Lizbeth, across the room, snorted.

I laughed and peeled it open to see the first page.


THE FROLICKING MOOSE OPERATIONS MANUAL


The next page revealed a neatly typed table of contents, with the Frolicking Moose logo on the top of the page and a blocky, western font that matched.

Organized words filled every page. Proofread, no typos, in order, and with helpful markings to indicate when one standard operating procedure referred to another one. She must have finished writing it last night and printed it out this morning.

“I have an online version and this one, just in case the internet is down or the barista can’t get to my computer. Lizbeth has volunteered to be in charge of monthly update audits, which makes both of us ridiculously happy because, frankly, the word audit makes me want to scream.”

Pride swelled within me as I ran my eyes over page after page. She’d not only managed it, but she’d done well. Beyond what I’d ever imagined. In fact, she’d given me a great gift.

She’d shown me that it was possible.

Although I’d improved Mallory’s business landscape through her sales force, a small business was an entirely different animal. The validation of my business instincts was almost as powerful as the change in her. I needed to know that this could work, and she was proving me out.

Defensive, uncertain Bethany was a confident owner in her own right. She didn’t even realize the intensity of her own instincts yet.

“Amazing.” The paper whispered as I flipped through the binder. “You did it, Bethany.”

Her eyes shone. “I know! I can be taught.” She reached into her purse and slid an envelope across the table to me. Color pinked her cheeks in a lovely way. “Here. This is for you.”

I quirked an eyebrow. “A card?”

“It’s . . . it’s really not much. Open it later,” she added hastily.

“Sure.”

I tossed the card farther onto the table, out of reach, and her shoulders relaxed.

“Now, I don’t know what’s next,” she said.

“Profitability, for one. You’ve identified a whole list of issues and started fixing them. Now we get more people into your store, test your process, and increase how much money you make.”

Her face paled slightly. “Oh, is that all?”

I grinned and sprawled an arm across the back of the chair next to me. “That’s all.”

“Stability, too, for the girls.”

“And for you.”

Her nose wrinkled. “Right.”

I laughed at the momentary expression of horror on her face. “What? You don’t want stability?”

“It’s not that. It’s just . . . it feels like a lot.”

“Success is a lot. But you’ll handle it well, because you have a path now, and it’s working. Just don’t sabotage it. Keep going. Do what works. Success feels so good.”

Hoping to get her closer, I pulled up a spreadsheet.

“Here, have a seat. Let’s look at a few things here.”

She settled next to me. A shudder skated over my skin when her arm touched mine. She reached down, our fingers intertwined beneath the table, out of Lizbeth’s sight. I pulled in a deep breath to rally my thoughts.

While we reviewed the reports that she would generate every month, along with some ideas for getting people into her store, I tried to focus. She asked questions, and I typed them into a document as feedback to send to my assistant, but I couldn’t remember any of them a second later.

“Tomorrow.” I leaned back and scrubbed a hand over my eyes. “We’ll talk about foot traffic strategies. This was a good start today, particularly since you finished the manual.”

My fatigue had little to do with my early morning and everything to do with the fact that I couldn’t sleep with her on my mind. Which had led to the run that ended in a brain-numbing kiss.

“Right.” She fought off her own yawn. “Tomorrow.”

Lizbeth had retreated upstairs to get a new book and hadn’t resurfaced. “I overheard that Lizbeth is going to hang out with Jada tonight,” I said.

Bethany blinked, her eyes bloodshot. “Jada has an extensive library. They’re planning on making dinner and then reading together in the same room.”

“Wild.”

She laughed.

“What about Ellie?”

“Sleeping at Devin’s house. I can’t get them to split up.”

“Good for her. She needs someone her age on her side.”

A sense of relief seemed to emanate from Bethany whenever Ellie and Devin’s unexpected friendship came up.

“I was going to ask you to dinner tonight,” I said in a poor attempt to sound nonchalant. “But you look tired as hell.”

Her eyebrows lifted in a wan smile. “I wouldn’t be much of a date.”

“I seriously doubt that.”

Bethany paused, studying me. When her gaze dropped to my lips, it took a considerable amount of control not to kiss her.

“Maybe you should ask,” she murmured. “I might say yes.”

“And fall asleep over your soup? I think it’s best if you just go to bed.”

“Well, what did you have in mind?”

“Dinner at The Upstairs Cellar in Jackson City.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Fancy.”

“Is it?”

“Yes. Very. Didn’t you look at the menu?”

“No.”

She laughed. “Well, it’s at least a hundred dollars a plate.”

“That’s fine.”

Bethany blinked. “Fine?”

I laughed. “Are you surprised?”

“A little.”

My gaze tapered. “How poor do you think I am?”

“Not sure. You never talk about yourself, and there’s nothing at your grandpa’s house except tools.”

“My minimalism has nothing to do with taking you on a fantastic date that you deserve.”

She nudged me with her shoulder. “Are you one of those billionaires that has no house and hoards lots of money while you travel the world?”

I tilted my head back and laughed. “Definitely not that. I just thought you might like something . . . special and fun and not Carlotta’s.”

Her lips pressed together as she fought off a yawn.

“We can reschedule.”

“But I want to hang out with you,” she said.

“We still have a few weeks.”

Her brow furrowed, and silence fell between us. For the guy who couldn’t wait to get away, weeks sounded far too short all of a sudden.

“Ask me, Maverick.”

“Fine. Want to eat some takeout and pass out on my couch while we watch movies?” I dropped my voice, and she shivered. “I promise no funny business.”

Those perfect lips quirked. “Too bad. That could have been the funnest part. I accept your offer. I’ll head over after I drop off Lizbeth.”