6. Corinne #2
Speaking of… I don’t hear him. I don’t feel him either.
Every step that man takes in the cabin shakes the floorboards.
And it’s not because this cabin isn’t built well.
It’s withstood a storm like last night and countless others.
Maverick is just built differently. Apparently, exactly to my tastes—ones I never knew I had.
Ones I’d love to explore, but know I shouldn’t.
After taking a few long minutes lazing around in bed with my thoughts, I finally drag myself out. I can’t help but smile when I see an unopened toothbrush and travel-sized toothpaste at the door that I don’t remember seeing when I went to bed.
I snag both of them, heading to the bathroom to get ready for the day.
Maverick’s taking me around the mountain, and I can’t be more excited.
I mean, the shots I’ll take will be cool and all, but I’m hoping I’ll need Maverick’s assistance more than a few times on the hike.
Two firm hands on my ass, boosting me on top of a boulder for a better view? Yes, please.
A few minutes and one light huff later, I’m out of the bedroom and into the main living space. Sure enough, I’m the only one here. Well, Hank might be sleeping somewhere, but Maverick’s nowhere to be—his workshop. Yup, there’s that chainsaw or some kind of power tool.
And it gives me a little time to snoop. The cabin is gorgeous in daylight.
It’s not like those cabins you see on Instagram, or the ones you see people restore on YouTube—all modern, refined, and far too perfect.
This cabin has character that can’t be bought.
A feeling. Everything serves a function, and everything feels well-cared for and lived in, from the handcrafted furniture to the old-school stove and refrigerator.
I run my hand along one of the bookshelves.
Tattered paperbacks, hardcovers with ripped dust jackets, and, as I flip through a Bluey book, pages and covers that have been chewed on.
Could’ve been Hank, but I’m leaning towards Maverick’s niece.
I smile, remembering Maverick walking her to their booth. He had to lean down to hold her hand.
I set the book down, glancing briefly at the eclectic collection. Fiction mixed with non-fiction. Maps and dictionaries next to Agatha Christie. Recipe books and worn notebooks dating back to well before I was born. I grab one at random, the pages riffling in the air as I flip through it.
Drawings and notes. Diagrams and quotes. The notebook seems to have it all. I pause on one page and read the page.
Liz dropped off Maverick and Ryder today.
Luke didn’t even show his face. Bastard.
Maverick’s a little confused, but Janie and I have been trying to distract him.
Her with cookies. Me with games. Never played a game of chess in his life, but checkmated me.
Smart kid. Ryder’s more glum. But now they’re both asleep in their new bunk beds.
The entries continue, but I don’t. It feels wrong reading them. What Maverick’s been through… There’s a lot that I don’t know about him and his family, and I don’t want to learn it by secretly reading his grandpa’s journals.
I slot the journal back in place, running my fingers along the spines.
My finger rakes across a firm, papery edge.
A postcard. I can’t help but pull it out.
On the front is a black and white photograph of the Tower of London.
I’ve never visited or seen it before, but it looks like a fortress.
Gorgeous architecture that you don’t see here.
When I flip the card around, my heart flutters. There’s correspondence.
Dearest Janie,
I made it to England. I’m not sure what I expected to find, but it wasn’t this.
I wish I could come back because I miss you dearly.
It feels like I left a piece of myself behind.
The best part of me. My sunshine that could brighten up these dreary days.
I thought we had rain back in Whispering Winds, but this place is ? —
I jolt, dropping the card as Maverick places his hand on the nape of my neck.
“I’m sorry,” he rasps, taking a step back and holding his hands up. “Just wanted to check in on you.”
I pant, hand over my heart as I take a few jagged breaths, the surge of adrenaline still coursing through me as I slowly find my smile.
“It’s okay. I didn’t think you’d be able to sneak up on me like that.”
His hand feels warm and comforting on my neck. Heat radiates down my spine and around my chest.
He glances at the card. “Snooping?”
The heat rises to my cheeks. “A little.” I wave the postcard in front of me. “Your grandpa seems like an interesting man.” I slide it back into the bookcase and then look back at Maverick. His hand is still on my neck, and I’m still loving the weight and feel of it.
He nods. “He was.” His fingers move gently, absently along my neck as he glances at the bookcase. “The most interesting man I’ve ever known.”
He lets out a deep sigh a few moments later, removing his hand. “Did you find my note?”
I swallow, turning to him. “Oh, no. I just woke up.”
“I left some breakfast for you in the oven. Should’ve kept it warm and out of reach of Hank,” he adds, smiling back at me as he heads to the kitchen.
I follow him, feeling each thud from his steps. “Where’s Hank, anyway?”
Maverick groans. “He’s off with his lady friend.”
I snort. “Lady friend?”
Maverick shakes his head, grabbing the handle for the oven and wrenching it open. “Yup.”
I smile, bouncing on the balls of my feet as I watch Maverick. “I’m sure he’s being a gentleman. You’ve raised him well.”
Maverick turns to me, holding something small wrapped in foil. But when he hands it over, I realize it’s not small at all. It’s hefty and barely fits in my hands.
“Let’s hope,” Maverick says. “But it will be just us on our hike today. That should hold you over until we get back, although I’ll bring some more snacks.”
“I think it should hold me over for the week. What is it?” I’d turn it over to inspect it, but I’m afraid I might sprain my wrist.
“Breakfast sandwich. Bacon, egg, sausage, cheese. A hashbrown or two. The good stuff.”
So this is what mountain men eat to get that size.
“Thanks.” And I mean it. Maverick’s been nothing but kind, thoughtful, and generous. He didn’t have to do any of the stuff he’s done for me.
“How about we get your car taken care of first? You’ll be wanting your equipment, I’m sure.”
“Sounds good. Might have to call a tow truck, though. That mud was thick.”
Maverick closes the gap between us, his scent twisting around my senses. His voice shifts lower, a rougher edge to it. “I’ll make quick work of it.”
Or at least, that’s what I think he says.
I’m finding it hard to concentrate yet again.
The man wasn’t lying when he said he’d make quick work of it.
Maverick walked around my car a few times, inspecting it, and then, without a single word, save a few grunts, he slid against the trunk until he could grip the bumper, lifted it effortlessly out of the mud, and then rotated it until the tires hovered over solid ground and let it drop gently.
And now he’s staring at me, brushing his hands off in front of him as though he just heaved a couple of dusty boxes into an attic.
My heart is hammering, and I didn’t even do anything! He’s not even breathing heavily. He’s unreal.
“That should do it.”
I want to laugh. Really, I do. But instead, I just gape.
“Luckily, these trees are old growth.” He glances up at the trees next to us, but I don’t follow his gaze.
I can’t keep my eyes off him. Those damn muscles.
I’d say I can’t believe they’re so powerful, but given their size…
his size, it’s not that unbelievable. Seeing them in action is certainly doing things to me right now.
“Lost a few branches, but it would take much more than a little wind and rain to take one of them down.”
“Uh-huh,” I mutter because I’m still in shock.
“I’ll let you get your things. Going to take a quick walk up the trail up there and make sure it’s clear.”
“Uh-huh.”
Maverick smiles at me, and I stand there, watching that gorgeous behemoth wander away, completely oblivious to the storm he just stirred up inside me.
I never thought I’d feel… this way about a feat of strength, but then I’d never seen a man deadlift my car out of the mud like it was a toddler’s toy. After catching my breath, I unlock my car and retrieve Candy.
“Candy,” I whisper, “You have no idea what I got us into. But you’ll see soon enough.” I pull Candy out of her case, zooming in on Maverick as he continues walking down the path. I swear she snaps the photo, not me. Same with the next half dozen.
I should be focused on the wedding tomorrow.
…not on Maverick’s ass.