Chapter 10 Maverick
maverick
. . .
Reed’s got us tucked into a quiet back corner. Catalina’s still high off bookstore adrenaline, her voice bouncing off the walls as she recaps every single customer interaction to Carter, who, of course, looks like he’d let her talk for the rest of his life and call it heaven.
I’m sipping a beer, barely listening.
Because Amelia is catching all of my damn attention.
Amelia’s leaned against the wall near the pool table, scrolling through her phone. Her black hair is out of the ponytail now, cascading down her back in soft waves.
My beer is halfway to my mouth, but I’m not drinking it. I’m just staring like an idiot, mesmerized by how the dim light catches the edges of her tattoos.
God, her neck tattoo is going to be the death of me.
Amelia pushes off the wall and walks toward the bathroom hidden in the dimly lit hallway.
I know I shouldn’t fucking follow her, but I do anyway, against better judgment.
She slightly turns, her green eyes meeting mine, with her signature scowl between her eyebrows.
“Is this your thing now?” she asks, arms crossed under her chest. “Trailing behind me like some kind of overgrown puppy?”
I grin, letting my steps slow. “You say that like you don’t like it.”
She scoffs, leaning back against the wall. The hallway’s dim, shadows clinging to the curve of her neck, the monarch butterfly glowing underneath the pale light.
Her eyes burn into me, and fuck if I don’t want her to keep looking at me like that forever.
“You think I like being followed around?” she shoots back, tilting her chin up.
“I don’t think,” I declare, stepping closer. “I know you love the attention, especially mine.”
Her lips curve, not quite a smile, more like a dare. “Arrogant much?”
I let my gaze drag deliberately down her body and back up, slow as hell, until I’m right at her sexy little mouth again. My voice drops an octave. “Just observant. You cross your arms every time I get close. Not to push me away, but to hold yourself together.”
Her throat bobs, and she rolls her eyes, trying to play it cool. “Please. You’re not that hard to resist.”
I grin, leaning one hand on the wall beside her head, crowding her just enough. “Baby, if I kissed you right now, you’d melt so fast you wouldn’t remember what resisting even feels like.”
Her lips curl into that smug little smirk that makes me insane. She tilts her chin up, green eyes flashing. “Wrong,” she says, pointing a finger into my chest. “You’d be the one begging, Hayes. Begging me to keep going, and begging me not to stop.”
My stomach knots tight, heat crawling up my neck. “The fuck I would,” I rasp, even though the image of me on my knees for her is now burned into my brain.
Who am I kidding? I’d definitely be on my knees for her.
Amelia doesn’t back down as she steps in closer, such a little thing, barely reaching my ribs.
She gets on her tippy toes, grabbing the hem of my shirt, yanking me down until our noses are practically touching. “Oh, you would. You already look like you’re about to drop to your knees for me.”
I bite back a groan, my hand gripping the wall as I pin her against it. “Keep talking like that, dollface, and I swear to God, I’ll show you just how much begging I can make you do.”
She lets out a breathy laugh that almost sounds like a moan. “Prove it, quarterback.”
My cock throbs just from the way she says it. I lean out of her grasp, getting a real good look at her pretty, flushed face.
“Baby…” My voice is a low growl. “I’ll fucking ruin you if you let me kiss you right now.”
Her lips betray her, deepening into a sly little smirk, her green eyes flashing with something dark and taunting.
I press closer, the ache between my legs near unbearable, my lips barely brushing hers, just a taste, just enough to make my lungs burn, but she lets go of my t-shirt, gently pushing me away.
She smirks as she slips out from under me, leaving me braced against the wall, breathless and throbbing, her perfume and laughter clinging to me.
“You always this mean to your husband?”
“You’re not my husband.”
“Tomorrow, dollface, I will be.”
If you’d told me two weeks ago I’d be standing in a small chapel in Ruby Ridge, wearing a black suit, waiting for Amelia Hamilton to walk toward me, I would have laughed in your face and told you to lay off the whiskey.
Amelia’s walking toward me like a goddamn vision in black lace, her tattoos peeking beneath the sheer sleeves of her dress, her chin tipped high.
Every step, the fabric parts just enough to flash her leg, and my knees damn near buckle.
The cameras fire off behind us, shutters clicking in greedy rhythm, but I don’t care.
She’s all I see.
She’s all I’ll ever see.
“You look fucking stunning,” I mumble when she reaches me, keeping my voice low enough that the officiant can’t scold me.
Her green eyes cut straight through me. “Thanks, I know.”
I grin, tugging her hand into mine. “Oh, and I’m the cocky one?”
She doesn’t say anything as she scoffs, digging her nails into the back of my hand.
Christ, she’s deadly.
My pulse races, my mouth goes dry, and the officiant is already rambling, trying to get us to say the vows. But I lean in anyway, my mouth brushing against her.
“You have any idea what that dress is doing to me right now?”
She doesn’t glance at me, her gaze locked forward. “You’re supposed to be saying ‘I do,’ not narrating your… situation.”
“Dollface,” I whisper, my lips curving against her skin, “I could say ‘I do’ to a lot of things right now. Most of ’em are illegal in a church.”
Her smirk cuts sideways, though her pulse jumps beneath my thumb where I hold her hand. “Good thing we’re in a church.”
The officiant clears his throat, trying to wrangle us back. “Maverick Hayes, do you take Amelia Hamilton to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
I don’t even let him finish. “Hell yes, I do.”
Amelia shakes her head, sighing.
When the officiant turns to her, she doesn’t blink or fidget. She lifts her chin and says in a velvet voice that cuts straight through me, “I do.”
The cameras go wild.
The officiant sighs, clearly over it. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
That’s all I need.
I don’t wait or hesitate. My hand snaps to the back of Amelia’s neck, the other to her waist, pulling her close as I press my mouth to hers.
She gives me a quick peck, pulling away before I can deepen it, leaving me stranded with the taste of her lips and a hollow ache in my chest.
I freeze, jaw tight, because fuck, I wanted more. Just one second longer. Just enough to lose myself in her.
My hand falls reluctantly from her neck.
The cameras around us erupt, shutters clicking, voices overlapping as they shout.
Mr. and Mrs. Hayes! Over here! Kiss her again!
Amelia grabs my hand before I can sulk too hard, her palm small and warm against mine. “C’mon,” she whispers, tugging me toward the waiting car.
I follow, half-dazed, half-pissed at myself for not stealing another second of her mouth. Flashbulbs explode in my vision as we sprint down the sidewalk, her heels clicking, my arm automatically bracing around her shoulders to shield her from the crush of photographers.
“Smile, newlyweds!” someone yells.
I give a quick shit ass smile and get into the car after Amelia.
The car door slams shut behind us, muffling the chaos.
Glancing over at Amelia, my eyes follow her gentle side profile. Her brows are furrowed as she focuses on her phone, with her upturned button nose and full, plump lips.
Fuck meeeeeee.
Amelia feels me staring at her, glances over at me, and glares at me between her lashes.
Her mood quickly shifts.
She’s a pretty moody person, I’m coming to learn.
The tux collar feels even tighter now. I stretch my legs in the back seat, watching her.
I reach over, sliding my palm along the smooth line of her thigh, lace beneath my hand. “You’re awfully quiet for a newlywed, dollface—”
She whips her head towards me again, revealing the flash of her eyes. “Don’t.”
Her tone shouldn’t affect me. But Jesus, it does. Heat rises low in my stomach, and I press my thumb against the lace anyway, testing.
Her hiss cuts through the engine's hum. “Maverick.”
Fuck. My cock twitches.
I grin, leaning back like I didn’t just get scolded and turned on at the same time. “Goddamn, you know how dangerous you are?”
She doesn’t answer, exhaling through her nose, eyes fixed on the blur of brick buildings rushing past.
Ice queen.
Completely unbothered, which only makes me want to unravel her more.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. Maggie’s name lighting up the screen.
Of course.
I answer, putting her on speaker. “You better be calling to say congrats, Mag.”
Her voice comes quickly. “Mav, you’re trending, again, and it’s everywhere. Your wedding photos are all over TMZ, Twitter, Instagram—hell, even my grandma texted me. Everyone wants to know who this mystery woman is.”
Amelia shifts, crossing her legs, her nails tapping against her arm, choosing not to look at me.
I smirk, eyes still fixed on her. “You hear that, wife? You broke the internet.”
Maggie keeps going, manic. “They’re calling it the event of the season.”
Amelia finally turns her head and says, “Don’t talk about me like I’m a headline.”
Maggie falters. “I—uh—”
I keep my gaze on Amelia, my grin spreading wider. “Headline or not, dollface, you’re the only story I care about.”
Her lips twitch. “Careful, Hayes. You might start believing your own bullshit.”