Chapter 29
CLOCK MANAGEMENT – STRATEGY TO CONTROL TIME NEAR THE END OF HALF/GAME.
The next morning, I wake up to find Maya isn’t in bed next to me. Immediately, I panic because time is too precious between us to waste. We’re down to weeks and I want to spend as many minutes of every single moment with her as I can.
It’s slipping by far too fast.
With that at the forefront of my mind, I reach for the first pair of pants I can find, shove my legs into them, and prepare to hunt her down even as I recount what we did the night before.
After we had a late afternoon snack, we spent the night with a light charcuterie board and a bottle of wine, remembering all the times we were together in each other’s presence and how I held my true feelings back.
“Oh, come on, Troy. I was covered in mud from head to toe!”
I grinned at her, even as I tugged her hair. “It looked adorable dripping from here.”
She huffed. “I agreed to the trail ride. What I did not agree to was the skies opening up.”
“Because you have such control over Mother Nature?”
“That’s not the point.”
At that point, I kissed her pouting lips. “You are a beautiful woman when you’re covered with mud and an adorably sexy one when you pout. You know that?”
Maya studied me intently for a long moment before she threw herself at me.
We barely made it to my bed.
I snatch up my T-shirt from the floor after I almost trip on it in my haste to find her. “Stupido. After all that talk yesterday about her ex, what if you reminded her about…”
I’m about to head toward the staircase to seek Maya out in her room when I sniff the air and smell coffee. Immediately, I change course and head in the direction of the kitchen. “Maybe I can still catch her waking up.”
But when I enter the space, I realize Maya’s done more than wake up.
She’s commandeered my kitchen—but not in a way that’s going to help her grace the cover of any food magazines.
There’s flour on the counter, on her cheek, and somehow in her hair.
The coffee’s sputtering into the pot like it’s desperate to escape the basket for air.
A formerly white dishtowel now has gray staining it.
What could she have made that’s gray? I make a mental promise to save it from its fate, which is hanging from the front of the oven door.
Maya watches me as I take it all in, a sheepish smile tugging at her lips. “Before you say anything, I was trying to make pancakes. The emphasis is on trying.”
I bite back a grin. “Looks like the pancakes sacrificed themselves for the greater good.”
“They started it.” She tosses the spoon she’s holding into the sink with a clatter and leans against the counter, crossing her arms. “I was hoping to surprise you.”
“This is definitely a surprise.”
“Clearly, I’m only meant to photograph food. I’m certain that in some cultures I’ve been to, this might be considered abuse.” She whirls to the pantry and returns with a box of Baci di Dama we picked up a few days ago. “Here. Breakfast is served.”
My heart twists, and I open my mouth but quickly close it just in time to trap all the words that want to flood out because it’s far too soon to let her know how I feel about her.
Even though she’s standing in my kitchen covered in flour and gray stuff that sure as shit wouldn’t be delicious, she’s the most incredible sight.
“I love this surprise. No one’s ever cooked for me before who hasn’t been family. ” I step closer.
“Really?”
“This rates up there with being drafted and then walking again.” Not to mention meeting you. “Totally the best.”
Her smile lightens her entire face. “I’m glad. Even if the effort didn’t produce the results I intended.”
I look down at my hard cock tenting my sweats. “I wouldn’t say that.”
She snorts, and a heartbeat later, I’m howling right along with her.
For a moment, we forget all the other hissing of food and spitting of coffee makers amid our hilarity.
Finally, Maya regains some semblance of control.
She steps up to me, placing her hands on my chest. Any air in my lungs disappears.
“Are you hungry?” she asks, voice gentler now.
“Depends.” I reach past her for a mug, letting my fingers brush the back of her neck–what might be the only place on her not covered in flour. “Am I going to be forced to eat this…or can I make us something edible later?”
Her eyes flicker with amusement. “Both. I’ll even clean.”
“Then yeah,” I murmur, reaching to the side to turn off the coffee maker and the appliances that weep their gratitude. “I’m starving.”
Once that’s done, I bend down and catch Maya at the waist. Hoisting her over my shoulder, I stalk off toward my bedroom.
She squeals, “I thought you were hungry!”
After I flip her onto the bed, I agree. “I will be. For lunch.”
Then I set about making her agree with me.
After setting my kitchen to rights so I could cook for us, Maya twirls her pasta absentmindedly. She’s thoughtful—not upset. So I give her time to work through what’s on her mind.
It isn’t until my fork scrapes the bottom of the bowl, her head snaps up. “If it wasn’t to your liking, I can make something else.”
She immediately takes a small bite. “No, that’s not it.”
“Then what is it?” I lean back in my chair before nudging. “I was worried you were going to twirl your pasta so hard you were going to drill through the dish.”
It should make her smile, and she does, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
Her hand goes back to twirling her food, like the movement of her muscles is preparing her for something much more difficult—a conversation.
My stomach flips, making me wish I hadn’t just eaten a full bowl myself.
“Whatever is wrong, Maya, we’ll work it out. ”
She places her fork to the side and catches her lower lip between her teeth.
Every second she hesitates, I swear a part of my heart shrivels. Still, I wait.
Finally, she blurts out, “I know I’m here in an unofficial season for tourists…”
“And you know that means fuck all to me.” I capture her chin in my fingers. “You’re here because I want you here.”
Her bright blue eyes skim over my face. “Then…”
“Just ask, uvetta mia.”
“What would you think if I stayed a little longer? Maybe…until Thanksgiving?”
“Thanksgiving,” I repeat, testing how the reprieve feels. Knowing she could have asked me to stay forever and I would have said yes.
She nods. “I know it’s an imposition, so don’t feel you have to say yes. I can always move to a hotel in town. I don’t want to make you feel you have to just because we’re—”
“Maya, I don’t want you to leave.”
Her words come to an abrupt stop. “You don’t?”
I shake my head. “You don’t need to offer explanations. Stay as long as you want.” Stay forever, if that’s what you want.
Her eyes search mine like she’s trying to confirm my words match my intent. Then she opens up the fortress around her house a little more. “When I first came here, it was about a break from my schedule, but I found something unexpected here.”
“What’s that?” My breath suspends.
“You. This. Us.” She gazes at me, unflinching. “I woke up in the middle of the night and watched you sleep.”
Self-consciously, I run my thumb under my lower lip. “Was I drooling?”
She cocks her head to the side, curious. “You’re more worried about that than if you were snoring?”
Automatically, I deny, “I don’t snore.”
She pats my cheek condescendingly. “Keep telling yourself that.”
Mortified, I redirect the conversation. “So, my nighttime biological quirks led you to this epiphany?”
“No, they just made me realize if I didn’t ask you if I could stay, it was one more thing about you I’d miss.”
For a second, I forget how to breathe. The way Maya’s looking right at me now—steady, unflinching—I can feel my heart shift to make room for her.
Permanently.
“Maybe if I add a few more to the mix, I’ll figure out a way to ensure Thanksgiving’s worth staying for,” I murmur, the corner of my mouth lifting.
“As tempting as that is, I always spend that holiday with my parents and my girls.” Her loyalty rings true in every word.
There’s nothing I would do to make her break that vow, but that’s not to say I can’t work the clock.
Maya might spend every Thanksgiving with her people, but this year, I’m going to do my damndest to give her a reason to start new traditions.
Because the thought of being without her feels like a loss I haven’t even earned yet.