Chapter 18
Maverick
I couldn't believe it when a woman stepped outside onto the makeshift walkway in heels and a fitted skirt. I'd never met Belle's mother before, but I could see the resemblance in their faces. Her hair was a bleached blond though, and she was more delicately boned than Belle.
Belle had looked uncomfortable, but I couldn't get past my irritation with one more person not respecting the rules of a construction zone. It was no place for heels.
Why was her mother here? Belle had said the money for her shop had come from her grandmother.
Was her mother controlling Belle in other ways?
Did Belle yearn for her mother's approval?
I had a feeling that wasn't something her mother gave easily, if ever.
She preferred to keep her daughter wanting more and never delivering.
Belle stayed out to lunch longer than usual. I wondered if that was her mother's doing. Belle hated to leave for longer than fifteen minutes to get a coffee or grab something to go. Then she ate it quickly in the break room so she could get back to work.
But it seemed like Mrs. Beckett got whatever she wanted, whether it was Belle's time or attention. I wondered why Belle gave it to her. If my mother acted like that, I wouldn't be taking her out to lunch.
The lights went back on in the bookstore, and I got back to work, setting the pavers. This was the part I enjoyed. I could see the project come to life exactly how I'd pictured it. It would be a space that many in town would enjoy for years to come.
In addition to the town center where the Christmas tree stood, this would become another hub for activity. It was a smart decision to add it.
After we finished for the day, I cleaned off my boots and grabbed a change of clothes I'd brought with me from the truck. I knocked on the front door. It was locked for the day, but I could see Belle stocking books on shelves.
She opened the door for me, locking it behind me. She seemed drained. There were dark circles under her eyes. I wondered if it was her mother's presence or our late nights catching up with her.
"You want to hang out tonight?"
"Of course," she said, but she sounded tired.
"What did your mother want?" I asked, following her to the shelf she was working on.
Belle sighed as she put more books on the shelf. "To see the store."
"What did she think of it?"
"She sees it as a minor distraction, a hiccup on my road to academia. She wanted to make sure that I knew my old professors were willing to mentor me whenever I was ready."
I frowned. "You don't plan on keeping the store?"
"I do. But Mom has other ideas."
I wondered how influential her mother was in her life. I was fully independent from my parents. I enjoyed their company, but they had no say in my life. I didn't like that Belle's parents still had a say in hers. "You listen to her?"
"I mean, I'm not rude. I took her out to lunch. I heard what she had to say. It doesn't mean I'm listening to her."
"Then why go out with her at all?" I asked, irritation coursing through me.
If Belle closed the store, what would it mean for my project?
Would it be left unfinished? Even if it was from no fault of my own, that could be a huge issue for our business.
People would speculate that it was my fault that we didn't finish the work. It wouldn't be good for my reputation.
Belle glanced at me before shelving the next book. "She's my mother."
I clenched my teeth. "You don't owe her anything."
"I'm not going to be rude to her."
"I'm not saying that you should be."
Belle sighed. "Then what are you saying?"
I rubbed my neck. "I didn't like that she was on my job site in unsafe clothes."
"I'll make sure it doesn't happen again." Belle sighed, and I wondered if I was one more stressor in her already long day.
"You want to head upstairs?" I could usually get her to relax with my hands and mouth.
"I don't know if that's a good idea."
I frowned. "Why not?"
"I'm feeling a little off after lunch. I'm not good company. And clearly you disapprove of how I act around my mother. She disapproves of me, period. It's a lot."
I didn't like being lumped together with her mother. "I'm sorry if I made you feel that way. I was worried about what her being here meant for the project. For us."
Her jaw tightened. "She doesn't have any influence over me."
I wasn't so sure about that because she'd just said she was in a weird mood after hanging out with her and didn't think we should see each other tonight. The woman was already affecting us. "Then why are you cancelling our plans?"
Belle sighed, and her shoulders lowered slightly. "I didn't want to subject you to my mood. My mom makes me crazy, but you shouldn't have to deal with that."
I leaned against the shelf. "Isn't that what people do in relationships? They are there for each other."
She chewed her lower lip. "That's true."
"What would you say if I told you I want to take you upstairs and make you forget everything that happened today?"
Her lips curved into a smile. "I'd say yes, please."
"I'll put this in the back while you shut everything else down." I grabbed the empty box, and took it to the storage room.
When I returned to the front, she was just turning off all the lights. I didn't mind if she wanted to work late, but she needed a break. Her mother shouldn't make her feel less than.
Belle was a good person. She was selfless and kind and shouldn't have to take shit from anyone, much less her own mother.
There was one other thing that bothered me about her visit today, but I didn't want to bring it up in case I was overthinking things. Belle hadn't introduced me as her boyfriend. Was she worried about what her mother would think? That I wasn't good enough for her daughter?
That played into all my insecurities. What country-club mother would want me with their daughter? No matter how successful my business was, it wouldn't change what some people thought of me.
We headed upstairs, and when she closed the door, she said, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken out my mother's mood on you."
I pulled her close, swiping a strand of hair off her forehead. "Your mom is a force in your life. I get it. And you tried to push me away, but it didn't work."
"What are you saying?"
"I want to be here with you. I want to distract you from everything that happened today."
Her eyes darkened with desire. "And how are you going to do that?"
"First, we're making dinner. Then we're relaxing on the couch while we watch a mindless movie."
She raised a brow in disbelief. "No sex?"
"If it happens, it happens. But that's not what you need right now.
" I moved around her kitchen, looking in the freezer for the meat I'd bought the other day.
I put peppers and onions on the counter, along with a knife and a cutting board.
"I thought we could make tacos. Why don't you chop the veggies while I brown the meat? "
When she didn't move, I glanced over to find her watching me.
"Are you okay?"
She nodded. "I'm just surprised."
"We can do something else, but I need to eat. I get cranky when I'm hungry."
She laughed and shook her head. "You surprised me. That's all. You're sticking around even though I'm not in the best mood. And you want to distract me. It's different."
I sighed. "You're not used to people being here for you. I don't like that it's your reality, and it might take a while for you to get used to me. But I want to be here for you."
"Thank you for being here. For making me dinner—"
I moved closer to her and placed a finger on her lips to shush her. "No more thanks. I want to do this for you." I kissed her forehead before opening the meat and putting it in the microwave to defrost.
She picked up the knife to cut the peppers.
I set out a bowl for her to put the veggies in.
We worked well together. I liked how domestic this felt.
Cooking dinner together after a day of work.
Coming together to support each other. I wanted her to block her mother from her life, but it wasn't my place to tell her that.
She needed to deal with her mother in her own way.
But if she kept me a secret from her family, we'd have a problem. It was still early in our relationship, and I hadn't exactly been clear about where I stood. I was standing on the edge, teetering on going over. Did I want something serious with her, or should I keep things light?
Belle put some music on and wiggled her butt while she cut the onion. I leaned against the counter, watching her work.
It didn't take much to distract her from her conversation with her mother.
She flashed me a smile every once in a while, and eventually, I moved close to kiss her neck.
She leaned against me, and I savored the feel of her weight. She trusted me to take care of her tonight. It was a start. Part of her would be worried that I'd ghost her like I had when we were teens. I'd just have to be here for her. To be the man she could rely on.
The conversation about how much I didn't like her mother would have to wait. Tonight wasn't the right time.
I browned the meat with the veggies. Then added the seasoning. When it was cooked, I poured the mixture into taco shells.
Belle added the cheese, tomatoes, and lettuce.
We sat on the couch, plates on our laps while I flipped through the channels. I stopped on a comedy and hit Play.
We ate our tacos while we laughed at the cheesy jokes and over-the-top acting. It was just what she needed.
When we were done eating, I picked up the plates and cleaned the kitchen. I was just rinsing the plates when she came up behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist.
Somehow, her touch permeated through the layers of clothes to my heart.
"I want you to take me to bed."
"Yeah?" I turned in her arms, my voice gravelly.
She nodded, her arms circling my neck. She pulled me down to her, touching her lips to mine.
I was powerless to say no to her if this was what she really wanted.
I could have held myself back, shown her that there was more to our relationship than the physical.
But if she craved the closeness, then I couldn't refuse her.
Everything was better when I was in her arms. The outside world faded away. The pressure about the job, the worries about my insecurities, the unknowns about our relationship all fell away until it was just us.
I lifted her, her legs wrapped around my waist. As I lowered her to the bed, I said, "This Saturday night, you're mine. Pack your bag. You're spending the rest of the weekend with me."
Her eyes lit up. "Yeah?"
"Yes." I wouldn't take no for an answer. She'd hired Aspen to work Sundays, so we were off on the same day, and I wanted to take advantage of the situation. No more late nights. We'd have hours to be together, and I couldn't wait.
I took my time, kissing her and removing our clothes. I rolled to my side with her facing away from me. I lifted her leg over mine, opening her to me. Then I entered her from behind.
This position was more relaxed, and it gave me easy access to her body. I touched her nipples. "Rub your clit."
I watched while her hand drifted down her stomach and between her legs. I jerked when her fingers brushed against the base of my cock.
"It's so wet and slippery," she said with awe in her voice.
Had she not touched herself with a man before? I tucked her hair behind her ear, so I could see her face while she pleasured herself. I liked that I was the first one to see her so uninhibited. It only made me hotter. I pressed into her, increasing the pace so that her breasts jiggled.
She bit her lip as she rubbed her swollen nub, and I wished it were my fingers touching her. Yet at the same time, the sight of her touching herself was something I wouldn't forget.
This position made everything tighter, and I wasn't going to last long. I kissed her shoulder. "Are you close?"
She nodded jerkily, her fingers circling her clit.
I pinched her nipple, and she arched against me, her body flush and her walls clamping around my dick. I thrust one more time deep and let go. There was something about being with her. Each time brought me closer to her, and it opened something inside me.
I didn't want to think too hard about what that was.
But I liked being with her. I didn't want to be alone at the end of the night.
I missed her the evening she was with the girls.
I couldn't go one night without her. That probably meant that I was gone for her.
I should pull back and protect myself. But I didn't want to.
Not if it meant not being with her like this.
I eased out of her, rolling out of bed so I could grab a washcloth and clean her. I took a few seconds in the bathroom to breathe deep and remind myself that I wasn't losing myself to her. I was better with her.
After helping her clean up, I threw the washcloth in the hamper. She reached for me, rolling into my side and resting her head on my shoulder. She'd trusted me to take care of her tonight.
I wanted to always be here for her. But that meant letting go of the walls I'd put up to protect myself.
I stroked her hair as her breathing evened out. I just hoped I could be the man she deserved. That I wouldn't resort to my old ways. I didn't want to run from her. I wanted to be the man she could count on.