27. Evie Wilder
Chapter twenty-seven
Evie Wilder
Bright light behind my eyes makes me scrunch my face. I snuggle deeper into the covers, pulling them up over my head so that the dreadful light can’t get to me. I let out a happy sigh and hum in contentment. It smells like a campfire, and feels like I’m cuddled up next to one. I haven’t woken up so peacefully in ages. After another deep breath of the delicious scent, I come to and realize exactly where I am.
I yank the covers down, then cringe because I might have bothered Maverick with all of my noise and movement. Only…he’s not in here. I sit up. And neither is Beckham. Not even Maisy is in here with me. I glance at the clock on the nightstand and my eyebrows shoot up. It’s almost eleven in the morning. How long have I been asleep? I rub my eyes as I try to remember what time I last woke up with Beckham. No specific time comes to mind, but based on how amazing I feel, I know I’ve been asleep for a while .
Maverick probably woke up with Beckham more than I did. And now he’s watching him while I sleep the day away. I stretch my arms above my head, wishing for all the world that I could lay back down and enjoy my cocoon a little longer. But I can’t let Mav do this all on his own. Letting him help is one thing, but he can’t take over for me completely.
I crawl to the edge of the large bed–I was sleeping square in the middle of it which I’m sure Maverick appreciated–and pad my way to the door. As soon as I open it, I hear Maverick’s deep, velvety voice, paired with the clanking and sizzling sounds of cooking. Is someone here? I’m far from ready for visitors. I walk closer, pausing just out of sight to listen to him.
“I know it seems excessive to make pancakes and waffles, but your mom is a weirdo who thinks pancakes are superior.”
He’s talking to Beckham , I realize with a smile, then decide to spy a little longer.
“Waffles are clearly the better option; they have pockets to hold the syrup.” I roll my eyes at his usual argument. “But I’ll make pancakes for her. When you get older, I’ll make sure you love waffles too and then we can team up against her.”
A sharp pang shoots through my chest. He’s talking about the future like he’s certain we’ll be in it. I peek around the corner. He’s facing away from me, the stove to his left. Beckham must be in his bouncer on the other side of the island, because he’s looking down toward the floor.
“Don’t give me that look. I know it might take a while, but she’ll come around to us being a family. I’m fine with waiting. Well, I’m trying to be, at least. ”
My heart stops. I bring shaking fingers up to my lips in disbelief. My mind spins, trying to process this new information. I try to tell myself I heard wrong, but I know I didn’t. Maybe he meant something else , my mind tries to reason, but my heart knows better. There’s no denying it any longer.
Maverick has feelings for me. He wants a life with me. With my son. I press a hand to my stomach as the shock sinks in. Everything I want…he wants too. I’ve been rude to him, shut him out, sobbed in his arms, kept him up all night. And he still wants me. He’s not just saying the words either. No, he’s shown up every day, every hour, every minute for me and Beckham both. How many times did he tell me he was there for me? I didn’t believe it could be true, but he’s proven it time and time again.
I hear the sound of claws on hardwood and take a step back. Maisy barrels through her doggy door, racing toward the kitchen with a muddy tennis ball in her mouth.
“Maisy! How many times have I told you no balls in the house?” Maverick calls out and I giggle. He sounds so much like a dad without even trying. She runs into the living room, ignoring him entirely.
I choose this moment to make my presence known in the kitchen.
“What kind of chaos is brewing in here?” I ask as I come around the corner.
Maverick looks over his shoulder from where he’s flipping pancakes. There’s a waffle iron nearby with steam coming out of the sides. Both . He’s making both because of me.
“Did I wake you up by yelling?” he asks with a sheepish smile.
“No, I was walking out here when she came running in,” I fib. It’s not a total lie.
“Okay, good.” His smile grows. “How are you feeling?”
I walk around the kitchen island to find Beckham’s bouncer set up in the corner of the kitchen. He’s happy as can be. The only thing that seems to be amiss is a runny nose. I snag a tissue from the baby basket Maverick must have brought in, and wipe it away before using the hand sanitizer that’s also in the basket.
“I feel great. Someone let me sleep in.” I boost myself up onto the kitchen island.
He throws a smile over his shoulder. “You needed it.”
“You did too, but I won’t argue with you too much, because it was heavenly.”
He chuckles. “I’m happy to hear it. I got pretty great sleep myself.”
“So what all are you making in here? Can I help with anything?”
“Pancakes, waffles, eggs–”
I cut him off when I see a full carafe on the counter next to him. “ Coffee ,” I say with a blissful sigh.
“Yes, there’s plenty of coffee,” he says with a laugh. “And whipped cream too.”
He gestures to the stand mixer. I can see the fluffy white mixture from here.
“You made me whipped cream?”
Something about the gesture makes everything else click into place. It’s like when I’m at a shoot, and all the elements are there for a great photo, but it’s not until the sun shifts at just the right moment that everything becomes clear. The signs have been here all along, but this small gesture has made everything click.
I’m falling in love with Maverick Carter.
“I did, and I’m even going to pretend not to see when you eat the whole bowl in one sitting. ”
“Mav–”
He cuts me off. “Don’t even deny it, I know you will.”
“No, Mav, I–”
“I don’t know how you don’t get sick–”
“ Carter ,” I say and he goes silent.
His muscles are taut beneath his t-shirt. Anxiety swirls within my stomach, but I know there’s no going back now. That name alone puts my feelings on display. I have to commit and go all in, like he has been for me.
He switches the stove off before turning around to face me. There’s trepidation in his gaze, but hope too.
“Carter,” I repeat. “I’m falling in love with you.” I have to fight to keep my voice from shaking, and I’m not sure I succeed.
Maverick stands a foot away from me, staring. I clench my shaking hands together in my lap.
“I know that I’ve been rude to you, and pushed you away so many times,” I say, unable to take the silence. “But I’ve just been so scared of getting hurt. I know if I lost you that I’d lose a piece of myself too. I’m tired of being afraid all the time though. Even if you don’t want me, I want you , Maverick Carter.”
I take a deep breath after my declaration, not knowing how to handle putting my desires on display like this.
Maverick steps to me, and I have to part my legs so he can stand between them. His hand reaches up to slide beneath my jaw. His touch is so gentle, so tender, for someone with as much strength as he has.
“It’s impossible for me to want anyone other than you, Wilder. ”
He leans in and pauses, looking in my eyes. He’s giving me a chance to pull away, but I don’t. The need for his kiss overwhelms every doubt or uncertainty.
His lips brush mine. The softest touch, and yet it undoes me all the same. He kisses one corner of my mouth, then the other. His movements are agonizingly slow. I simultaneously want to crash my lips against his and stay here all day while he tortures me.
“Are you sure?” he whispers against my lips.
“Are you?” I ask, my worries suddenly bubbling up. “I’m a mess.”
“A beautiful one,” he says and presses a kiss to my cheek.
“I argue with you when you’re just trying to help me.”
“We always work it out.”
Another kiss, this time on my chin.
“I have a son.”
“I’ll love him like my own.”
His lips brush my jaw. Tears burn the backs of my eyes.
“I don’t have my own house or car or–” my breath catches when he places a warm kiss further down my jaw.
“I don’t care about any of that. I just want you , Wilder.”
Tears begin to fall down my face in earnest now.
“I like pancakes better than waffles,” I say because it’s all I can think of. His breath tickles my ear as he chuckles.
“I don’t mind making both.”
I place a hand on his jaw, the scruff of his beard brushing against my fingertips as I pull his mouth to mine. We melt into each other. He kisses me with care and reverence. The sense of being treasured overwhelms me. His calloused palms wipe away my tears in between gentle kisses. One of his hands combs through my hair, sifting through the strands in a way that makes me hum. I try to deepen the kiss, to press myself against him, but I can feel him holding back.
“I’m not going to break, you know,” I pull back to say.
“I know,” he whispers back.
“Then kiss me like it,” I demand, clenching the fabric of his shirt in my hands and pulling.
I feel him smile against my lips before he kisses me again, his lips parting. He tastes like brown sugar and vanilla and home . I wrap my legs around his waist to draw him even closer. Nothing feels like enough to satisfy the burning desire within me. He tugs on the hair at the base of my neck, tilting my head back so he can trail open-mouthed kisses down to my collarbone, then back up to my ear.
My eyes fall shut. His teeth drag over my earlobe, making me gasp.
“Is this what you wanted, Wilder?” The rasp of his voice paired with his lips on my skin has liquid heat pooling in my abdomen.
“ Yes .” The word is pulled from deep within me, a desperate syllable coated in pure longing.
In any other situation I’d be embarrassed to be laid bare like this. But not with Maverick. I’m the safest I’ve ever been. I could utter my darkest secret alongside my burning fantasies and he’d hold me just as he is now: as if I’m precious beyond measure.
His lips find mine once more, laying claim to what is now unmistakably his. When we finally pull apart, our breathing is labored. Maverick’s eyes are dilated. He looks dazed. His hair and shirt are mussed, his lips a swollen pink framed by his dark beard. I can’t help but smile at the sight. I made him that way. He’s like this because of me .
“If you keep looking at me like that, Wilder, I’ll be forced to kiss you again.”
“Is that a threat or a promise, Carter?”
Before I can so much as blink, his lips are on mine again in a deliciously fierce kiss that I’m more than happy to have incited.