Chapter 3
Belle
On my bed, I curled my legs underneath me, still ensconced in Mav's sweatshirt.
I lifted it to cover my nose, breathing in his scent, something masculine and spicy.
He was all man, and I'd never done more than kiss him that one time.
It had been hot because it happened at school where kissing was forbidden.
It had been cliche, the good girl kissing the bad boy underneath the bleachers, but it had been so much more. He'd been sweet, and at the same time, I'd felt the same electricity I felt whenever we were near each other. It was like I was drawn to him.
As much as I told myself I wouldn't let him get to me, he always did. But this time, I hoped my words landed. He wasn't someone I could trust, and that was a long list after my parents and high school friends. None of them had been there for me. It was more about what I could do for them.
Outside my window, Maverick stood sentry, watching his men work. It should have been exciting that they were finally breaking ground on my patio, but I was more wrapped up in Maverick and everything he'd said.
My heart rate picked up as I remembered the commanding way he'd covered me with his sweatshirt, then walked me inside. His hands had been huge on my shoulders, heating me more than his hoodie ever could.
The skeptical part of me said he didn't want to see my bare skin, but the other side of me said he'd done that because he couldn't resist me. It might have been to shield me from his coworkers' leering eyes. I didn't even know if anyone else had noticed me. I only had eyes for Maverick.
He was gruff and growly, had hard edges and cutting words. But underneath that bluster, I suspected he was soft. It was the same assumption I'd made in high school that had turned out to be a mistake.
Maybe Maverick was a jerk, and no amount of wish casting could change that. I was in the same position as I had been when I was a teen, wishing for something different.
I read books to escape the harsh reality of life. And now I brought that same escape to anyone who came into my shop.
When Maverick looked up at my window, I ducked down. I couldn't let him see me watching him. It would only make his ego worse.
I rolled off the bed and out of sight. I had a bookstore to open and a dream to live. I'd have to ignore Maverick and his broody stare.
From the sound of things, it was going to be noisy. But it would be worth it when the work was completed, hopefully in time for summer. Patrons could enjoy the outdoor space and warm weather.
In the bathroom, I turned on the water, waiting for it to heat. Hudson had replaced the pipes in my building right after the bakery and the restaurants since Eve was eager for me to open.
Reluctantly, I removed Maverick's sweatshirt, carefully folding it and setting it on the shelf. The sweatshirt meant something; I just wasn't sure what yet. I stepped under the stream and allowed the pressure to soothe my tense muscles.
I wanted Maverick, despite the logical part of my brain that reminded me that he couldn't be trusted. Hadn't I learned to avoid bad boys? They were nothing but trouble.
With the memory of his hands on my shoulders and that intense look in his gaze, I filtered out his words and let my imagination take over. What if he'd said he couldn't let anyone else see me in that lingerie? That he couldn't resist me?
He couldn't wait one more second to take me against the wall of the stairwell, his cock slipping inside my wet heat before either of us could even think about a condom. It was so naughty, so decadent, that I slipped my fingers between my legs, and let the fantasy take over.
Dream Maverick was still growly and commanding, except he told me to take my clothes off, not put them on. With the thought of him taking me roughly against a wall, I shattered into a million pieces.
It was a one-time indulgence. I couldn't afford to pretend that Maverick was anyone other than who he was, a grouchy guy who didn't want me. I bit my lip as the tremors passed through my body. I ached inside. It wasn't enough.
I turned, tipping my head back, so that the water washed away the thoughts, the desire, everything inside me that yearned for something different.
I quickly washed my hair and then my body. I stepped out of the now-cooled water to get dressed for work.
I refocused on work. I was officially open for business, and I hoped I'd get some of the stay-at-home parents today for story time.
I'd posted advertisements for groups that wanted to meet here in the bookstore.
So far, a knitting club and a book club had expressed interest. I wanted to make Belle's Bookshop the meeting spot in town.
And I didn't accomplish my goals with my head in the clouds, dreaming that Maverick Sterling was a good guy underneath all that bluster.
I had to be realistic. He'd never wanted me. You were supposed to judge a person by their actions, and he'd done nothing but reject me. He didn't want me, and that's all that mattered.
I was determined to ignore him. I dried my hair, then walked down the stairwell, ignoring what happened earlier, how close he'd stood, how he'd touched me with a familiarity that we didn't have, the way I'd melted under his scrutiny.
I was putty in his hands, but I didn't want him to know that. I had to be strong. I had to resist him.
I had to be the only woman who was turned on by a gruff voice and broody look. On the sidewalk, I stubbornly refused to look in his direction. I heard the noise of the machine working, but I kept my gaze fixed ahead of me.
My stomach growled. I needed food and coffee, not necessarily in that order.
At Reina's, I opened the door to a tinkle overhead, the bell that indicated she had more customers. The line was long, but Reina's eyes lit up when she saw me.
She pointed toward the pickup shelf where there was a small pink bakery box and a to-go cup of coffee with my name and a heart drawn on it. Someone had my back, and it wasn't Maverick.
I grabbed the food, vowing to repay her later because I hadn't ordered ahead. There was a Post-it on the bag that said, Congrats on your grand opening! Enjoy!
Reina was the sweetest. I waved at her as I slipped outside and onto the sidewalk. I sipped the coffee, determined to have a good day despite how it started, waking up to the sound of a machine, and running outside in my skimpiest pj's. I hadn't even thought about what I was wearing.
My face flushed just thinking about how I'd flown outside, ready to confront whoever was making the racket.
It was impulsive and stupid. I couldn't afford to be seen by Maverick when I was caught off guard. I always needed to be ready for him and covered. My nipples betrayed me outside, but under a thick covering of a sweater and a puffy jacket, I was protected against Maverick.
I was immune to him. Or at least that's what I told myself as I unlocked the front door to the shop and turned the sign from Closed to Open.
I’d held a grand-opening party months after my soft opening. I hadn't wanted to do something before the holidays. No matter how well you advertised, there were always people who didn't know that a shop had opened. So it had made sense to throw a party now, in the slower season.
I needed to make this place a success so my parents couldn't make snide comments about how they'd wasted their money on an English degree I didn't use.
Their acceptable use for a degree involved academia.
According to their standards, I should have a PhD in Literature from some prestigious school and be working on my tenure as a professor.
Even though I'd majored in English, I'd snuck in as many business classes as I dared. Those classes got my blood stirring. I wanted to share my love of reading with everyone.
Despite the current racket outside, I was living my dream. I turned on music, hoping to counteract the construction noise, and opened the cash register for the day.
I sipped my coffee and nibbled on the blueberry muffin, the sweetness of the fruit bursting on my tongue. It was the perfect way to start my day, except that's not how I actually started my day.
Instead, I'd run outside in my pj's and into growly Maverick, who didn't want me half naked on his construction site. Not an unreasonable request. But all I could think about was how I'd wanted to kiss him while his mouth moved.
Every time the door opened, I lifted my head, my heart skipping a beat as I wondered if it was Maverick. Except he was working at the back of the property and wanted nothing to do with me. I was tired of my traitorous heart wanting something I couldn't have.
When it was story time, there were a few parents with kids who joined me in the children's section. I'd arranged small, round cushions for the kids to sit on. I sat on the rocking chair by the window to read a book about spring.
I'd arranged a few more books with the same theme on a nearby table that a couple of parents were perusing.
I read slowly, ensuring that everyone in the room could see the pictures, and used different voices. I closed the storybook; kids scattered throughout the store to play with the toys and thumb through the board books.
I was finally doing it. I'd opened a bookstore, just like I'd always wanted. And I'd done it without my parents' approval. Their disapproval stung, but I hoped over time they'd grow to respect my decisions. If the store was a huge success, then maybe they'd come around.
I forced myself not to look outside. When the noise disappeared, I figured the work ended, and I could breathe a sigh of relief.
There was a lull at this time of day, when the parents with young children headed home for naps and dinner before the evening crowd crept in. I took the time to wander around the store and pick up anything that had been moved or dropped.
I'd just leaned down to grab a book that was left on the floor when the back door opened. I stood and placed the book on the shelf, surprised to find Maverick.
I tried to keep my voice steady. "I thought you were done for the day."
"I made sure everything was cleaned up. We don't leave a mess."
That was something that I'd learned about the Sterlings; they worked hard to build a reliable and competent reputation. After this morning, I wasn't going to make things easier for him. "Do you need something?"
He cleared his throat and stepped into the children's section. He looked large and out of place among the colorful books and stuffed animals. "We had a successful start. There shouldn't be any problems getting the patio installed by the end of April."
"That's good," I said, feeling a little breathless.
He looked around and, not seeing any customers, said, "Don't come outside. I don't want you to get hurt. In fact, you should probably lock the back door so that no one wanders out."
That was actually a good idea. I didn't want a curious child slipping outside and getting hurt. "How will I get in touch with you if I need to ask a question?"
He raised a brow. "You don't have my number?"
"I deleted it."
When he'd stood me up, I'd stared at his contact information for hours, willing him to call me and apologize for an emergency.
But he never had. There was no explanation, and when I went to school that Monday, he turned his head away from me, refusing to meet my gaze.
I thought the act of deleting him from my phone would feel good, but it hadn't.
"You'll have to give it to me again," I said, pulling out my phone. I worked hard to keep my heart rate and breathing in check. I didn't want him to know that he affected me.
He recited his number, and I dutifully inputted the digits, then named his contact Bad Boy Contractor. It would be a good reminder every time we talked not to trust him.
When I lowered my phone, he asked, "So I won't see you on my job site with bare feet and in silk again?"
I tipped my head to the side, thinking about how he'd said silk instead of something else, like pj's. "Was that a hopeful tone I detected?"
"Why would I want a half-naked woman getting hurt on my construction site?" He scowled, then turned on his heel.
I followed him toward the back door. "Why would you be happy about anything?"
He stopped abruptly, and I almost ran into him. He reached out to steady me, his hands on my shoulders like they had been this morning.
My chest was tight, and it was difficult to draw in a breath.
Then he let me go as if I'd burned him. "Let's stay out of each other's way."
I swallowed hard at his declaration. Was it that easy for him? He could just ignore the sparks that flew whenever we were near each other?
He seemed to be attracted to me, but then he'd put space between us. It was confusing and felt a little like whiplash. "That sounds like a good plan."
He raised a brow. "I'm glad we finally agree on something."
He opened the door and went outside, checking the equipment one last time.
The problem was that I felt drawn to him. I couldn't exactly ignore the pull. It would take everything inside me to resist, and I wasn't sure I was strong enough. But the memory of him standing me up was a shot of cold air.
I forced myself to move away from the window. Arriving on the construction site this morning in my nightie clearly bothered him, and I had a feeling it didn't have anything to do with safety.