6. Corinne
Corinne
Remind me never to play Scrabble with a raccoon.
“You’re up, Hank.”
Maverick glances at me. I know because every time he looks at me, my skin heats up. My pulse pounds. I become acutely aware of every nerve ending in my body because they all fire simultaneously. It’s quite distracting.
“And this time I want a real word out of you.”
Hank runs his paws over his tiles, his nails clicking over the plastic as he lets out a low growl. The little guy doesn’t like being called out.
I glance at Maverick. “What’s the score anyway?”
He smiles, and my heart flutters. You’d think my body would get used to it, but apparently not. Butterflies flap in my stomach and chest, and I turn back to my tiles, more heat spreading through my neck and face.
“Doesn’t matter much, does it?”
I hum. He’s right. Neither of us is going to win. It’s hard when you’re playing with a raccoon who has no concept of the English language and uses all of his tiles.
Speaking of… Hank begins dishing them out. Maverick and I watch on tenterhooks, wondering what combination he’ll come up with this time.
Hank chitters triumphantly after he places the final tile, and Maverick and I groan in unison.
“QZJXKVY? That’s not a word. How do you expect?—”
Hanks flips the board, sending it flying off the table as he scurries off toward the doggie door.
I look at Maverick. He’s laughing, but I’m gobsmacked. “Oh my god, I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry, Hank,” I shout toward the door. “Come back!”
“Don’t apologize, Corinne. Hank’s a diva. He’s just being a poor sport because someone finally called him out.”
“Do you think he’s going to be okay out there?”
I glance toward the window above the sink.
The storm’s still raging, but I’m strangely calm, though.
I hardly noticed it the entire time we were ‘playing’ Scrabble.
I guess Maverick was on to something. Then again, I think it was my proximity to him.
There’s something about his presence that I find comforting.
Soothing. Like I’ll be well protected and cared for when I’m around him.
So far I have. More than I expected or deserved, given the kind of mess I made in his cabin.
“Hank will be fine. He’s got a bed in my workshop. It’s heated too. That raccoon lives like a king. Acts like one, too, as you can see. Impulsive. Tyrannical. A big baby.”
“Well, I do feel bad.”
Maverick reaches over and grabs my arm. “Don’t,” he rasps.
Immediately, my body erupts, goosebumps prickling my arms. I love the way his hand feels on me. The weight of it. The firm grip. There’s a lot of power in that hand, and I wouldn’t mind discovering how it feels elsewhere on my body.
I shouldn’t be feeling like this… but I do.
I’ve been trying to logic my way out of my feelings the entire time I’ve been here, but it’s impossible.
And when he told me I looked like an angel?
My mind damn near exploded. I wanted to grab him by the collar and pull him to my lips, but before I had the chance, he excused himself.
And ever since, I feel like he’s been more reserved.
Reticent. Until now. It’s the first time he’s touched me, and my body is all on board.
He’s staring at me again. The same way he stared at me in the bathroom. There’s heat in those eyes. Heat beneath his hand. Heat skims across my body and pools between my thighs. God, I want him to kiss me.
I can’t remember the last time I felt that way about anyone.
It’s primal. Visceral. Like a part of me has been starved for so long.
Though I guess it has. I’ve been so busy with work and other obligations that I’ve hardly had time for a relationship.
It’s been so long that I can’t even remember the last time I had a relationship.
“Maverick…”
It comes out like a plea. Begging him. But he removes his hand from my arm, which is the complete opposite of what I want.
“Probably about time to hit the hay.” His voice is raspy. Deep and gruff. I feel it all over my body.
“Yeah,” I mutter, although I don’t mean it.
Even though I’m worn out, I wouldn’t mind staying up a little longer with Maverick. The storm’s still going, and I wonder if there’s something else we could do that would take my mind off of it…
But, like last time, I’m too late.
Maverick stands up and heads for the kitchen, grabbing himself a glass of water.
My arm is still tingling from his touch, and other parts are aching.
Needing more. Wanting more. It’s so strange how attached I’m becoming, and so soon.
It’s not good. Not at all. I’m only here for a few days, and then I go back to life as usual.
And that thought feels like a punch to the gut.
Maverick sighs, setting down his glass and then turning to me. “I’ll get some fresh sheets on the bed.”
“No,” I blurt before I have the chance to think. I’m not sure where that came from, and the look on Maverick’s face shares the same sentiment. “I-It’s just you’ve already done so much for me. It’s late, and there’s no need to go through the trouble.”
His expression turns neutral, but there’s that fire in his eyes I saw earlier. But his voice is level this time. “Okay. I’ll set them out just in case.”
But he doesn’t move, and neither do I. My stomach is churning. My chest is fluttering. And I want nothing more than to tear at the buttons on his flannel shirt and see what’s beneath.
He grunts and then fills up a second glass. “The bed’s nothing fancy, but it’s comfortable.”
I swallow, watching Maverick as he moves through the cabin, each footfall shaking my chair. “Coming from my sofa bed, this will be heavenly.”
Maverick grunts again, disappearing into the bedroom. I guess I should follow him.
He’s rummaging through his closet when I enter, and I can’t help but watch those big muscles on his back work.
They’re so big that I can see them through his shirt.
And I can’t help but wonder how they’d feel beneath my fingertips.
How the rest of him would feel. Firm chest. Tufts of fluffy hair all over his body. The weight of his body on mine.
Whew . Good thing he brought me that glass of water.
“I’m up early,” he says, turning around to me, clothes in hand. “And I don’t want to wake you, rummaging through the closet.”
“You don’t have to change what you do for me.”
“It’s not a problem.” His eyes dip briefly to my bare shoulder and the swath of skin across my chest. My nipples tighten as my breath hitches.
I like his attention. That’s why I skipped the shirt he gave me, hoping it might attract it a little more.
But he’s been on his best behavior, which is annoying but not unexpected.
Maverick’s a different breed of man than I’m used to.
“I’ll be out there if you need anything.”
I shouldn’t be as disappointed as I am. Of course, he’s sleeping on the couch. Of course, he’s not going to share the bed with me. Of course, of course, of… course.
“Thanks,” I say, stepping into the room. “You’ve done so much for me. I’ll take the couch tomorrow.”
His eyes light up. “You’ll stay here tomorrow?”
“If you don’t mind. I’m sure they canceled my reservation at the Inn since I never checked in.”
He takes a few steps forward. Thump. Thump. “I don’t mind at all. I…”
For a brief moment, I think he’s going to touch me, but he doesn’t.
“I’ll get your car situated. Make sure you can get to your wedding on time.”
Oh. Right. The whole reason I’m here. It feels like I’ve lost track of everything since I’ve been with Maverick.
“I’m definitely in your debt,” I say, and without thought, I reach for Maverick, resting my hand on his torso. “I’ll pay you back, I swear.”
I tug my bottom lip with my teeth as I stare at his lips. Every breath I take is filled with his rugged scent, a mixture of pine, man, and spices from his slow-cooked stew. My fingers slide up slowly, the hard ridges of his torso beneath them.
“Corinne.”
Gruff. Strained. Another plea.
“Maverick.”
My gaze drops momentarily, focused on the way my fingers move over his shirt, imagining the muscles beneath them.
Maverick grabs my hand, completely enveloping mine. Warm. Rough. If this was his idea to stop me, all he’s accomplished is unleashing more wicked thoughts. Those hands cupping my body. Pinning my wrists above my head as his mouth claims mine. Wrapped around my thro?—
I swallow hard. What am I doing? What am I thinking? I’m… never like this.
“It’s late. You’ve had a day. You?—“
“You’re right,” I interrupt. “I… Thanks again.”
I slip out of his grasp, wishing him goodnight before ducking into the bathroom to prevent embarrassing myself anymore. I slide down the door and onto the floor as soon as I’m behind it.
“Good night, angel,” Maverick rasps.
It’s so soft and deep that I’m not sure I hear it, but it doesn’t matter.
My body reacts the same.
Well, that was lovely.
It’s the first thought that comes to mind when I finally wake up. Now I really need to thank Maverick, specifically for what he did to me in that dream. Again. And again . It was only a dream, but my body is still singing his praise.
I roll over and grab one of his pillows, pulling it against my body as I take a deep breath, shaking on the exhale. Hoo, boy. If he came in here right now and saw me huffing his pillow like a maniac, he’d be kicking me out. But he’s not here, so… one more sni—I’ve got a problem.
I toss the pillow, throw my head back against another, and groan. Why am I entertaining this crazy fantasy? I’m practical, but right now I’m practically insane. It’s like something snapped yesterday. The chipmunks? Hank? The chainsaw-wielding mountain man I can’t stop thinking about?