Chapter Twenty-Two
Maisie
I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt this way.
Truly content and happy.
And I know it’s only been a week since Warren and I have been going on these “dates” but being back here has reminded me to slow down. Enjoy life again.
Minus the chickens currently chasing after me.
“Stop runnin’!” Warren calls out, but he’s crazy if he thinks I’m going to stand around and let them get me.
I’m not sure which one I pissed off, but she didn’t like Warren kissing me. The moment he did, she came after me and I booked it.
The gate is closed, so I quickly open and shut it behind me once I’m on the other side.
My heart’s beating out of my chest as I try to catch my breath.
“Maze…” Warren stands on the opposite side of the fence and I swear he’s laughing at me. “They’re not gonna hurt you. ”
“That one wanted to…” I point to the one trying to peck its way through the chicken wire to get to me.
“They’ll get used to you.”
I give him a look like he’s insane for thinking I’m ever willingly going back in there.
“They’re possessive of you in some weird chicken kinda way.” I walk backward toward the house. “I’m goin’ where it’s safe.”
He pinches his lips like he’s holding back. “Gimme a few and I’ll meet you inside.”
I wash my hands as soon as I’m in the kitchen and wait for my racing heart to slow down. As I dry them off, a text alert pops up on my phone. I never replied to Hayes’s last messages because it was right before Bodie told me about Warren, and I haven’t figured out how to respond.
Hayes
Hi, darling. I know you must be upset with me or maybe you just need time with everything going on, but I wanted to make sure you knew how much I miss and love you. I’m so close to writing the end of this book and I can’t wait to celebrate with you and spend quality time together.
My stomach drops.
I have conflicting feelings about our conversations from this past week.
To finding out he hired a PI, to him knowing I was married this whole time, to proposing to push me to get a divorce, and then the back and forth of saying I needed to make a decision or he’d make it for me but that he’d fight for me.
It’s a lot .
But I don’t have room to complain when I didn’t exactly tell him the truth either.
We’re both at fault.
Not really a way to start a marriage.
I’m still wearing my engagement ring because it feels weird to take it off after all this time. Not because I’m doubting my decision, but I need to give it back when I see him in person.
Assuming he won’t chuck it at my head.
These new circumstances have me thinking about my favorite book even more since Warren asked me about it. How one decision or chance meeting can change everything and it’s not always about the choices you make, rather the ones you don’t, that can haunt you.
Maisie
Glad to hear your book’s almost done. I have a lot to say, but I prefer to do it face-to-face when you come here.
Hayes
That’s fine. I can’t wait to see you.
There’s no way to respond to that, so I don’t. I lock my phone and set it down on the counter.
If I didn’t keep most people at arm’s length, I’d have girlfriends to talk to about this.
Most of my friendships from my industry are surface-level.
We talk shit mostly, but it rarely turns personal.
Even if it did, I probably wouldn’t share much anyway.
One of my biggest fears was people associating me with my parents’ money and assuming everything got handed to me instead of putting in the hard work to get where I am.
Their financial support helped, but it’s not why I’m good at my job.
But the publishing industry can be cut-throat, which is a lot of keeping your friends close but your enemies closer. With social media, it’s easy to see which ones run their mouths and ones who engage versus those who know to keep it professional.
I put my assistant in charge of posting when our clients have upcoming or new releases. Other than logging in a couple times a week, I stay offline.
“Maze?”
“In the office,” I call out.
He appears moments later.
“Whaddya doin’ in here?”
“Just lookin’.”
“Hm.” He presses his chest to my back, dipping his mouth to my ear and wrapping his arms around me. “Think you might wanna decorate it?”
“I’m not much of a designer, but I could try. What kind of theme or color scheme do you want?”
His lips press softly against my neck. “Not for me, love. Decorate it for you.”
I spin around in his hold, lifting my gaze to his. “You’d just…gimme this room?”
“I thought we went over this…” He cups my cheek, brushing the pad of his thumb lightly across my skin. “I built it for you.”
I already told him I’m staying, but I still can’t wrap my brain around him building this house inspired by my dream board. Even more mind-blowing is that he lived in it alone for all these years.
“It doesn’t feel real,” I admit softly. “I have a hard time acceptin’ I deserve it or you.”
“Leave that guilt behind. You chased your dreams and that’s nothin’ to feel bad about. We’re different people now. If you’re stayin’, we get a fresh start. No more dwellin’ on the past.”
Nodding, my heart explodes at his sweet words. Besides being surprised he waited this whole time for me, I’m shocked another woman didn’t scoop him up. Not that he would’ve given them a chance, but…
Wait .
“Has another woman ever pursued you? You said you didn’t sleep with anyone else, and I assumed that meant you didn’t date either. But surely there’s been interest?”
“There was.”
I wait for him to elaborate, but when he doesn’t, I continue, “That’s it? You’re not gonna tell me?”
“There’s nothin’ to tell. They’d flirt a little and make it obvious they wanted me to ask ’em out, but I made sure to let ’em know I wasn’t available.”
“Even though, technically, you were.”
“I wasn’t.”
“But really…”
“Not in my mind.”
“Okay, but?—”
His mouth crashing down on mine shuts me up, but when his tongue massages mine, I completely forget the words I was about to say.
Warren lifts me up under my knees and I almost panic because he’s not supposed to be doing any heavy lifting, but then he sets me down on top of the desk. Standing between my thighs, he deepens the kiss and I feel his thickening length between us.
“Did you do that so I’d stop talkin’?”
“Yes,” he murmurs, lowering his mouth down my neck and panting into my skin. “Doesn’t seem to have worked, though.”
I huff a laugh, tightening my legs around his waist.
“How many women? ”
“None, Maze. You know that.”
“No, how many flirted and wanted you to ask ’em out.”
“Why’s it matter?”
I can’t explain it. The raging jealousy builds in my chest at anyone ever getting to experience him the way I do. He’s truly one-of-a-kind and knowing he waited for me makes him an even more rare gem.
“It just does,” I tell him instead of admitting it.
He blows out an exasperated breath. “I dunno, maybe a dozen or so?”
“A dozen ?” I gasp, leaning back far enough to meet his eyes. Here I was thinking like five. “Gimme their names. All of ’em.”
He furrows his brows, chuckling. “Half of ’em are probably married by now. The rest I have no idea. They were mostly strangers I’d meet when I’d go out to the bar with Silas or at rodeos.”
“Well, you’re restricted from those areas from now on.”
He crosses his arms, taking a cautious step back. “Is that so?”
“Yes, it is.”
If he knows I’m acting unreasonable, he doesn’t call me out on it. This fiery heat between us feels new yet so familiar that I’m aware of what a catch he is and I don’t like the idea of another woman being interested.
And yes, given the circumstances, I have no right to have those feelings, but I’m only a girl remembering how in love she was with the boy she fell for at fifteen.
“Would you feel better if the next time it happens, I tell ’em I have a wife and that if she even smells that another woman was near me, she’ll come for blood?”
“Next time?” I glower, huffing but secretly enjoying that he’s playing along. “And yes, I would. Let ’em know I have pepper spray.”
He barks out a humorous laugh, tilting my chin until his gray eyes pierce mine. “I will never let a non-relative woman near me ever again.”
“Good. That’s all I needed to hear.”
With a devilish smirk, he gives me a sweet kiss. “For our date tonight, I’m cookin’ you dinner, so I need to run to the grocery store. Do you wanna come?”
“Can I pick out the wine?”
“Absolutely.”
I grin. “Then let’s go!”
Who knew grocery shopping with my estranged husband would feel so normal ?
In New York, I’d typically pick up items as we needed it from a nearby market since neither of us cooked much. It’s been years since I was inside a large grocery chain, but somehow, it was fun.
While I pushed the buggy and followed him throughout the store, he talked about what he was making and all the ingredients he needed for it.
We grabbed more fruit and yogurt for smoothies since that’s easy enough for me to make.
Then we did some damage in the bakery section before grabbing a couple bottles of Cabernet Sauvignon for the Beef Wellington .
“It takes a while to prep and cook, so I have to start as soon as we get back,” he tells me as he pulls out of the parking lot.
“I’d offer to help, but I’d only get in your way and slow you down.”
He smirks, glancing from the driver’s side. “Don’t worry. I’ve only made it once, so fingers crossed I don’t screw it up or we’ll be eatin’ those frozen pizzas instead.”
Once we’re home, I help him bring in the bags and then unload the items on the counter since I have no idea where he prefers to put everything.
“Well…what else can I do to help?” I ask, looking around the kitchen.
He steps closer and kisses the top of my head. “Nothin’, I’ll take care of it. You relax. Watch TV or read. Take a bath. Whatever you want. Dinner should be ready by six.”
That’s four hours from now.
“You sure you should be standin’ that long?” I look down at his chest.