22. Evie Wilder
Chapter twenty-two
Evie Wilder
I wake up to the sound of Beckham crying softly and the feeling of sun behind my eyes. My legs are cozy and warm, but my neck feels like I need to see a chiropractor. When I blink my eyes open, the realization of where I am settles over me. My legs are draped over Maverick’s thighs, his strong arms resting on them, one of his hands wrapped around my ankle under the blanket.
A blush creeps up my neck as I realize just how close we are. He’s asleep, his head tilted at an awkward angle, his mouth slightly parted. Beckham cries again and I reach for the baby monitor, only for my hand to hit a bassinet instead. Confusion threads my brows together. I don’t remember bringing Beckham down.
As carefully as possible, I extract myself from Maverick’s grip so that I can get Beckham. I pick him up and sway side to side as I try to quiet him. Behind the bassinet is a coffee table with bottles–one of which looks used– a formula canister, as well as a few diapers and wipes. I look at Maverick, my chest warm with gratitude. He’s shifted some in my absence, but still looks just as uncomfortable. He must have woken up to Beckham on the baby monitor before I did, and went to get him so I could sleep.
“Mav,” I say, softly squeezing his shoulder.
He groans, his face scrunching in a way that makes him look almost boyish. I rub his arm, trying to rouse him so he doesn’t stay in this terrible sleeping position any longer.
“Mav, you should go to bed,” I tell him in a quiet voice.
His brown eyes blink open as he comes to. “Wilder? Is everything okay?” The sleepy rasp of his voice saying my last name makes my heart skip a beat. He’s too perfect.
“Everything is fine,” I reassure him. “You were just sleeping funny.”
I back up as he straightens, rubbing at his neck with a grimace.
“I should buy a bigger couch,” he says and I laugh.
“Or you could just sleep in your bed.”
“I couldn’t leave you out here alone.” He scrubs his face with his hands.
I’m goo. The inside of a lava cake. Blackberry cobbler straight out of the oven. An underbaked chocolate chip cookie. That’s my heart right now, just a pure gooey puddle because of this man. The urge to kiss him hits me so hard I take a step back, bumping into the bassinet.
He peeks through one of his fingers. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I say with a nervous laugh. “Just still a little tired after last night.”
“If you want, I can watch Beckham and let you get a few more hours of sleep. I know you have that brand shoot for Juliette today. ”
What I want is for this man to stop being sweeter than the baked goods he sells. It would make my life a lot easier. Then I could keep my distance for his sake and my own. Clearly after last night’s breakdown, I’m not ready for any sort of relationship, much less one with someone as good as Maverick. What I need to focus on is doing a good job for Juliette so that my portfolio can grow and I can get this new business off the ground.
“No, no, you should rest. I’ll be fine. I’ve gone with far less sleep before.”
His brow furrows in concern. “That doesn’t make it okay.”
“I promise I’m okay,” I tell him, trying to infuse cheer into my tone. “I’m too excited for the photoshoot to sleep anyway. I’m going to go upstairs and check on my equipment,” I say, the words coming out too fast and too high pitched.
Maverick eyes me, but doesn’t argue with me again. “If you say so. Let me know if you change your mind. I don’t mind watching him.”
“Thank you,” I say with a smile that I’m hoping won’t reveal how much of a mess I am. It feels too big, but if I lessen it I’m not sure it’ll be convincing. “And thank you for last night,” I add in a sincere tone. “I’m grateful you were here.”
He smiles at me. “Anytime, Wilder. I’ll always be here for you.”
I nod and head in the other direction, worried if I stand there any longer I’ll blurt out my ever-growing feelings.
To say the drive to Peach Hollow is scenic would be an understatement. Besides a brief drive through the outskirts of the city, most of the way is framed in large, majestic oak trees, tall pines, and swaying willows. It’s the perfect drive for thinking, which is exactly what I don’t need. Especially since the man who’s been occupying my thoughts is in the driver’s seat next to me.
The truck cab smells smokey with a hint of sweetness, which is so very Maverick. Every breath I take reminds me of him. Not that I need the reminder, because even if he wasn’t driving I’d be unable to get him out of my head. All afternoon as I was supposed to be preparing for this shoot, I was thinking of every moment I’ve shared with him the past few weeks. From that first hug in New York, to waking up with his hand around my ankle. I never knew something like that could be so intimate, so life-altering. Even now I feel the ghost of his touch there, and as he turns the steering wheel with one large hand, longing rises like the dawn within me.
It doesn’t help that I’ve felt the heat of his body against mine after boxing, or the feeling of his lips against my ear as he asked me if I wanted to get away from him. I didn’t. If it wasn’t for Beckham crying, I probably would have turned around and kissed him. I tear my gaze away from him, my face heating as I imagine what it would be like. Would it be soft and tender the way he’s held me before, or playful like when he teases me? I press my forehead against the window, hoping the glass will cool me down.
“Are you okay over there, Wilder? If you’re getting carsick I can stop to get you some medicine.”
“No, I’m okay,” I tell him. “I’m just a little nervous now that we’re almost there.”
Which isn’t untrue, it’s just not the most dominant feeling right now. If my thoughts were on a scale right now, nerves about the shoot would be a pebble, while thinking of Maverick kissing me would be a boulder.
“You’re going to do great, and you know how sweet Juliette is. I think you’ll have a great time.”
“You’re right about Juliette. At least I know she won’t be a diva like some of the models I’ve worked with before. I just hope you’re also right about the me doing great part.”
“I know I am. Just trust me.” He reaches over and squeezes my knee. I’m wearing leggings, but his touch still feels like a brand.
I go quiet as we get closer, trying to will myself to focus on anything other than the man beside me. It’s not until we pull up to an adorable café called Peaches and Cream that I’m able to do so.
“Okay, you have fun. I’ll be at Adrian’s house. Call me if you need anything,” he says.
“Thank you. I really appreciate you helping out with Beckham. I’m going to find a babysitter soon.” I look at the dash. “And a car.”
“Don’t worry about any of that. Just take it a day at a time.”
I murmur another thank you before hopping out of the truck. I grab my backpack that holds all of my gear from the backseat, give Beckham a kiss goodbye, then step up onto the sidewalk. Maverick waves before backing out. I watch him drive a little ways, then turn off in front of an adorable cottage.
“Evie!” I hear Juliette say and I turn around to find her holding the café door open.
“Hey,” I say with a smile. “Are you ready to get started?”
“Yes! I’m so excited I barely slept last night,” she says with a laugh. My stomach dips as I think of my sleepless night. It’s hopeless. I’m never going to get Maverick out of my head.
“I’m excited too. Is this the café you were wanting to start at?”
Her smile grows. “Yes, this is the best café in all of Georgia. Come on in, you’re going to love it!”
I step inside as she holds the door for me. The air smells like cinnamon sugar and tea leaves. Even though I love coffee, there’s something soothing about the place. Every booth looks worn and cozy. The decor is adorable, with a vintage feel and lots of peach-themed items. There’s even a peach shaped tip jar on the counter. I quickly decide that I would happily spend a whole day in here…multiple times a week.
“Can I live here?” I ask and she giggles.
“That’s what I think every time I walk in.”
“I’ve had to kick her out on more than one occasion,” a woman speaks up from behind the counter. She has a kind smile, and lines around her mouth that shows she gives it out freely.
“You might have to do the same to me later,” I say to her.
“I like you already. I’m Poppy, and this little shop is mine,” she says with a wave of her hand. “I’ve closed up shop so Juliette can have her little photoshoot, but I’m happy to make anything you’d like.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I’m fine.”
She gives me a maternal look that reminds me of Elena. My heart twinges, but I manage to hold my smile.
“None of that I’m fine nonsense in here, missy. Juliette will tell you I don’t tolerate that. You let me get you something to eat and drink.”
“She’s serious,” Juliette says to me with wide eyes. “If you don’t tell her what you want, she’ll make one of everything and you really will be here until closing time trying to eat it all.”
I laugh. “Okay, what do you recommend? ”
“Hmmm.” Juliette tilts her head to the side. “The peachy keen iced tea is great, and if you’re hungry a turkey pesto sandwich is my favorite.”
“That sounds perfect,” I say, my stomach growling at her suggestion. I didn’t eat much this morning, just a handful of cheerios. My stomach was in knots over last night.
“I’ll get it going while you two work,” Poppy says with a nod, before sashaying away.
Juliette turns to me, bubbling over with excitement. “Okay, so let me tell you my vision…”
I walk into Adrian’s cottage, following Juliette with a smile on my face. The entire photoshoot was amazing. I feel better about my work than I have in months. My creativity was flowing and Juliette’s vision aligned perfectly with my own. It was so nice to work with someone who felt real and authentic, instead of a multimillion dollar brand.
We spent the entire time laughing, and she even invited me to a book club happening this weekend when I commented on the various stacks of books she had in her living room. Apparently, all of the women I met at the Thrashers game, plus a few of their friends, meet once a month to talk about a chosen book. When Juliette asked what I like to read and I told her historical romance, her eyes lit up. This month’s read just so happens to be a regency romance. It’s fate , she’d said. And since her romanticism is infectious, I agreed .
“ Sunshineee , I’m home!” Juliette cheers. I learned that she calls Adrian ‘Sunshine’, which is one of the funniest things I’ve ever heard. The man is more akin to a looming thunderstorm.
Except I’m proven wrong, because as soon as his eyes land on Juliette, everything about him softens and brightens. He stands and–without caring that Maverick and I are right here–sweeps her into his arms for a chaste but passionate kiss. She giggles in his arms. I wish I wouldn’t have packed up my camera already, because the look they’re sharing is worthy of a frame. I’m not sure I could do it justice though.
“How was everything?” Maverick asks, about the same time Adrian asks Juliette the same.
We laugh and I gesture for her to answer before walking over to the couch where Maverick is holding Beckham. He immediately lifts him up so I can take him. I sit next to him, my leg pressing against his. The cottage is small, so I don’t want to take up the rest of the couch if Adrian or Juliette wants to share. And if I’m honest…I enjoy the feeling of having Maverick so close. I shouldn’t, but I do.
“Evie is brilliant ,” Juliette says, sitting down in one of the wingback chairs perpendicular to the couch. Adrian sits in the one opposite her, making my pressing close to Maverick wholly unnecessary. If I move now though, it’ll draw attention. So I nuzzle Beckham’s nose and kiss his forehead, pretending I don’t notice.
“You’re being too kind,” I say with a laugh. “You’re just a great model.”
She waves a hand, her engagement ring catching the light. “You are brilliant. There’s no way anyone else could have captured my vision the way you did. My website and social media are going to be so much better than before.” She looks at Adrian. “I can’t wait to show you the photos. Even unedited, they’re amazing.”
“You made my job easy,” I repeat my earlier sentiment as my face heats.
“I told you that you’d be great,” Maverick says next to me. I glance up at him. My throat tightens at the pride I see in his gaze. After months of feeling like a disappointment, it’s refreshing to feel like someone might be proud of me for once.
Juliette continues to rave about me. Sometime during the conversation, Maverick stretches his arm behind me on the couch. As if on instinct, I lean into him. His warm, solid frame is familiar and comforting after a day of putting myself out there. Juliette was almost overly kind to me, but even so it’s difficult after everything in New York to feel at ease around new people. Maverick’s touch siphons away all of that anxiety.
In the back of my mind, I know this is going to end badly, but I can’t help myself. For now, for just this moment, I’m going to ignore everything that’s wrong with me and simply enjoy being near him.