Chapter Nine
I was almost finished with the chores I was trying to get done before I left the house when Tess called. I saw her name light up my screen and frowned, hoping she wasn’t calling to cancel last minute.
Tess had weekends “off,” but she was in hospice care, which meant she could get called in at any time. Given the Friday I’d endured to make this Sunday work, I sent up a silent prayer I wasn’t about to get ditched—even though I’d totally understand if I did.
“Tell me you didn’t get called in for an emergency,” I said instead of hello.
“Oh, no, nothing like that. Mary-Kate has been talking about this for the last two days. If one of my patients called, I’d have to cash in a few favors, because there’s no way I could tell her we had to reschedule.”
Awash in relief, I headed for my couch as I asked, “Okay, so, what’s up?”
“Actually, because Mary-Kate is coming with us, I wanted to call and tell you a few things before we got there. A lot has been going on over here and I’ve got some pretty big news.”
“Like how Mustang is calling you his ol’ lady?”
I clapped my free hand over my mouth as soon as I said it.
“Wait, how’d you know that?”
I sealed my eyes closed and shook my head as I tried to think fast. Moving my hand away from my mouth, I raked my fingers through my hair and stammered, “Uh, well, you said big news and, I—I don’t know. I guessed,” I lied.
“Good guess,” she said on a soft laugh. “But that’s only half of it. He also asked me to move in with him, and…I said yes.”
I straightened, my faux pas almost instantly forgotten.
“What? Seriously?”
I didn’t have a calendar in front of me, but I was pretty certain Tess and Mustang had only been seeing each other for two months. Maybe . I knew my best friend to be a woman who fell hard and fast. I also knew what she and Mustang had was special. But this was taking it to a whole new level.
“Yeah. Actually, it’s a done deal already. It happened really fast. He asked me on Saturday, I started packing Tuesday, and when he thought I was moving too slow, he and a few of the Stallions finished the job for me on Wednesday. My townhouse is now completely empty. We’re going to rent it out, I think. So, if you know of anyone who needs a place, the walls are freshly painted.”
Staring down into my lap, I tried to process all she’d said.
I got stuck at the part about Wednesday.
'…a few of the Stallions finished the job for me…'
Wednesday was the night Maverick showed up late.
I never asked him why, but that would explain it.
It would also explain the look he’d given me when he found out I didn’t know Mustang was calling Tess his ol’ lady. Turned out, there was quite a bit I didn’t know.
“Honey, that’s— huge ,” I managed to spit out.
“I know. And there’s more.” She paused and I heard it as she freed a deep breath. “What I really wanted to tell you without MK around is that her mom died in a car accident on Sunday night.”
My eyes widened as I sucked in a quiet gasp.
I hadn’t expected that.
“Oh, my god,” I murmured.
“I meant to call you earlier in the week, but—”
“No, I—I mean, you’ve been busy. Clearly.”
I knit my eyebrows together as I thought about Mary-Kate. The girl had been hospitalized due to an overdose at four years old on Friday, and her mother died two days later.
“How’s Mary-Kate?”
“She’s okay. She’s little and still trying to make sense of it. I just thought you should know. I really want today to be special for her, and I didn’t want to bring up why in person. She’s been through so much in the last week.”
The last week…
I had an idea of just how much could happen in a week. I’d had quite the week, myself. Granted, it wasn’t life or death, and I couldn’t imagine how Mustang and Tess were navigating conversations with Mary-Kate. Thinking about everything going on in that household, my week with Maverick seemed like news for another day.
Frowning, I thought back on my week with Maverick.
He broke into my house Monday night, ready to fuck.
Then again on Tuesday.
He’d been late Wednesday, helping Tess move her things.
Thursday, Friday—even Saturday, when he knew I had a date, he’d come over.
But Sunday, he’d been a no-show.
“You said her mom’s accident was Sunday? What happened, exactly? Was anyone else hurt?”
“No. I don’t know too many details, but I think it happened pretty late. Her brakes failed. She crashed into an old, abandoned building. Don’t ask me what she was doing there. Maybe out getting drugs or something. I don’t know.”
I nodded, but I couldn’t get it out of my head.
Sunday, Maverick was a no-show.
What did he tell me the night he asked me out?
If I couldn’t do Saturday, what about Sunday?
'Got shit goin’ down, but I should be free to grub.'
Mary-Kate had been hospitalized due to an overdose at four years old on Friday, and her mother died two days later.
Her mother was dead.
But that was just a coincidence.
It had to be.
Right?
“Jen?”
“Hmm? What?”
“You got quiet on me. Just checking that you were still there.”
“Yeah. I’m here. Listen, I totally hear you. This afternoon will be all about spoiling Mary-Kate. I know we don’t usually do manicures, but today might be the day we switch it up and add it to the tab.”
“I love that idea.”
“Great. See you in a few?”
“Yeah. See you soon.”
We disconnected, and I stared at my couch.
The couch Maverick and I had had sex on twelve hours ago.
I didn’t want to think about why I hadn’t had sex with him on Sunday.
It was just a coincidence he’d been a no show the night a woman died.
Total coincidence.
Turned out, I couldn’t not think about that coincidence.
In fact, after I got home from mani-pedis with Tess and Mary-Kate, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And the more I thought about it, the more I remembered all the reasons why I’d decided I could be friends with Maverick the man but not enter into a committed relationship with Maverick the Wild Stallion .
I thought about the cops and CPS showing up at the hospital only to leave five minutes later. I thought about Lance Jones, his broken bones and bloody face as he lay beaten and unconscious in the back of my car. I remembered that Maverick lived in a world very different from mine—and his world freaked me out.
So, at eight o’clock, when I heard the rumble of a motorcycle coming toward my house, rather than a stomach full of butterflies, I had a stomach twisted in knots.
I willed myself to be calm. It was entirely possible I was making all of this up, and there was no reason for me to be suspicious. I just had to ask him to clear the air, and we could move on.
When I heard him insert his key at my front door, I slowly made my way down the stairs and met him in my entryway.
“Hey.”
It was all he said before he was kissing me.
For a few agonizingly delicious seconds, I kissed him back.
I couldn’t help it.
Then, because I knew I’d go crazy if we didn’t talk about it, I did the unthinkable.
I pressed my hands against his chest and broke our kiss.
“We need to talk.”
“About?” he asked, one of his hands still in my hair, the other holding onto my waist.
I took a step back, gently wiggling away from his touch.
“I’ve been thinking.”
“About?” he repeated.
“I talked to Tess earlier and—well, you were late on Wednesday because you were helping her move.”
A slight scowl tugged at his brow as he shrugged. “What’s your point?”
So, I’d been right about one thing.
I clenched my fingers into fists and then spread them wide, feeling irritatingly agitated.
“You’ve been here every night for the last week, except for last Sunday.”
“And?”
“And I remember you telling me—you told me shit was going down Sunday.”
His scowl deepened as he opened his kutte in order to grab hold of his hips.
“What are you gettin’ at, Jenna?”
My stomach rolled, I swallowed hard, then said, “A woman died just two days after her daughter was hospitalized for an overdose. An overdoes that was, basically, her fault. Do you know anything about that?”
He straightened and took a step back but said nothing.
My heart rate picked up speed.
“I just—I keep thinking—if some jerk puts his hands on Mustang’s woman, and he gets the shit beaten out of him, what would Mustang do to the woman who almost got his child killed ?”
Maverick’s expression was completely blank as he asked, “Are you accusin’ me of somethin’?”
“I’m…I’m asking you.”
“Didn’t hear a question,” he bit out shortly.
I forced in a breath and then blurted, “Did you have something to do with that woman’s accident?”
He shook his head once. “Babe, don’t ask questions with answers you don’t want to hear.”
Suddenly, I could hardly breathe.
I took another step away from him.
“I can’t. I can’t do this. I can’t do this anymore.” My hand was trembling when I held it up and insisted, “I need my key back.”
“Jenna…”
I didn’t want to hear it.
I didn’t want to talk about it.
He hadn’t denied it, and that told me all I needed to know.
“My key , Maverick,” I demanded.
He was no longer looking at me with a blank face.
He was angry. Angry at me .
I found this to be quite appalling.
I wasn’t the one who did something wrong.
He hadn’t confessed, but his non-answer was a huge red flag.
After a long stare down, he reached into his pocket for his keys. He removed mine from his ring and shoved it into my hand.
He turned to leave, then changed his mind and turned back.
“You know, I never pretended to be anyone I’m not. I’m a Stallion. We mind our business and protect our own. But you act like you think you’re better than us. Won’t lie, babe—admire what you do and the fuckin’ tenacity it takes to do it—but don’t act like that high horse you’re on isn’t made of stilts.
“You’ve been fuckin’ me a week with not a single complaint. I haven’t changed. You, on the other hand—you can’t have it both ways.” He huffed out a breath and turned for the door. “Guess now you won’t,” he muttered.
Then he was gone, the door slammed shut behind him.
As I stood there, alone, it took everything in me not to cry.
Maverick
He revved the engine of his Heritage Classic loudly before he sped out of her neighborhood.
He didn’t know where he was going, but he intended to get there fast.
He was pissed, and the only remedy was speed.
It wasn’t long before he found himself merging onto I-90, the wind whipping his curls back as he raced down the unobstructed road.
But no matter how far or how fast he rode, he couldn’t escape the truth.
He wasn’t pissed because he’d gone to Jenna’s house for a fuck, and she’d turned him away.
He was pissed because he was hurt.
He’d been a jackass to think he could sink his dick into a woman like her night after night without wanting more. He’d fooled himself into thinking he was merely getting her out of his system when, in fact, he was falling for her.
The way she scrunched her freckled nose when she didn’t like something.
How she always felt the need to tell him about her day and ask after his.
Her home-cooked meals, her cozy house, and her acceptance of him in it whenever he pleased.
The sounds she made when she was about to come, and the delicate way she was always touching his tattoos.
Her pretty hazel-green eyes.
Her sass.
Her kiss.
Fuck, fuck, fuck me , he thought.
There was no point in denying it.
The look in her eyes when she’d asked for her key had just about gutted him.
That’s what pissed him off more than anything.
Not her accusations or her judgement, but the way her accusations and her judgements penetrated like a shiv to the chest.
He shouldn’t have been surprised. She’d warned him time and time again.
But she’d also invited him in, night after night. She was the one who insisted they be friends .
She was the one who’d ridden him hard before she burrowed into him after they’d both come, refusing to move until she was ready to lose the feeling of him inside of her.
Maverick drove for more than an hour. He rode until he was low on fuel, then he stopped for gas and turned around, headed for the clubhouse. Fact of the matter was, whatever they had been, it was over now. She’d made that perfectly clear.
If he wanted to get his dick wet, he’d have to go looking someplace else.
It was after eleven when he pulled up in front of the clubhouse.
He walked in with one intention—to numb the pain.
Wrangler, Slick, Dog, and Shep were at the bar, Buck standing behind the counter with a bottle of beer in his hand.
“Probie—tequila. Now,” he demanded as he approached.
Shep, the club’s secretary and one of the oldest in their bunch, glanced at him from over his shoulder. “Rough night?” he asked good-naturedly.
Maverick cut his eyes at the man. He was only in his mid-fifties, but he was definitely the grandpa of the bunch. Always had been, even twenty years ago, before he’d grown a beer belly and a graying beard down his chest. It’s how he’d earned the road name Shepherd ; why Bull had nominated him to be the club’s secretary, in charge of keeping track of the probies. Most of the time, Maverick liked the old man’s intuitive nature.
But that night was not most of the time .
“Not talkin’, Shep. Fuckin’ drinkin’. Leave me to it.”
“Heard,” he muttered with a dip of his chin.
Wrangler chimed in, “I’ll have what he’s having.”
Maverick knew his brothers were rallying around him, reminding him he wasn’t alone, but he didn’t let the sentiment penetrate. He didn’t want to feel it. He didn’t want to feel anything .
Buck served him a shot.
Maverick threw it back and asked for another.
And another.
And another.
Then he spotted Lyla across the room.
Lyla had been a club sheep for nearly a year. Everyone knew she had her sights set on Twister, but she played the field, just like every other desperate woman who wanted to be claimed as a Stallion’s ol’ lady.
Maverick had never fucked her, but rumor had it she had a way with her mouth.
Against his will, he thought about Jenna. About how he’d never had her lips wrapped around his dick. He was more interested in having her tongue in his mouth. Not to mention, her tight pussy was more than enough to satisfy him.
He stretched his neck and closed his eyes, forcing Jenna out of his mind.
Then he shouted, “Lyla.”
She looked his way, her eyes intrigued.
He didn’t say another word before he went and plopped his ass on a vacant leather couch. He then reached for the top button of his jeans and freed it, sliding down his zipper.
She smirked at him coyly.
“Time you show me what you can do with that mouth.”
She grinned and sauntered toward him, immediately sinking to her knees between his legs. He watched her pull him out, then tried to get lost in the feel of her hand as she worked to get him hard. He was still half limp when she licked him, and he waited to feel something more—to reach a state of total arousal.
But the feeling never came.
She wasn’t who he wanted, and his dick knew it.
As if she had a reputation to protect, Lyla gave it her all. Maverick knew she wouldn’t get him there, and he felt disgusted at the sight of her hair falling on either side of her face—dark like chocolate, rather than warm like honey.
Like Jenna’s silky mane.
He fisted a handful of her tresses and yanked her head away, then tucked himself back into his jeans.
“Never mind,” he muttered.
“What?” she gasped. “Maverick!”
He ignored her, headed straight for the bar.
He avoided eye contact with any of his brothers, grabbed the bottle of tequila, then headed out of the main lounge, down the hallway that would lead him to his private room. He shut himself inside, alone, and drank until he couldn’t keep his eyes open.