Page 7 of The Cupcake Cottage

She laughed, his smile warming her belly. Maverick thought she was beautiful. Somehow that meant more than any of her beauty queen tiaras or crowns.

He grimaced. “What? It’s true. We haven’t won a single game this season.”

“That’s not my fault! I’m not even there for the away games.” She playfully jabbed a finger into his chest, secretly loving how little resistance there was. The man was fit, and she wanted totouch him all over to see where the muscles ran and where they ended.

“So how are you going to do it all?” he asked.

“Do what?” She took a sip of her beer.

“Don’t you run a few businesses here in town?”

She shook her head, bending to pet Myles’s dog Buckey as she came over for a scratch behind the ears. “Not anymore. I gave them up.” Working home games, and now in the Dragons’ offices as well, she didn’t have the time to keep them up so she’d sold or closed them all down. She’d started a lot of small businesses over the years, but the daily grind of building and maintaining them was so boring they’d never really gone anywhere. It was one of the things she loved about her current job. She came up with the ideas and set them in motion, and then someone else dealt with the details of it all.

Maverick was looking at her like she was crazy. “All of them? You’re not even filling in at The Watering Hole?”

She shook her head. It was a little scary letting all of those income streams go after the way they’d taken care of her over the years. Working for one company—one boss—was something she’d promised herself she’d never do again. Years ago she’d had a great job in a high-end restaurant where the tips were amazing. But when she’d talked to her boss about how he kept putting his hand on her butt, she suddenly found herself getting fewer and fewer shifts until she’d had to resign and find something new.

“Wow. That’s a big deal.” Maverick slid an arm across her shoulders, pulling her in for a brief, friendly embrace.

Movement and a flash to her right caught her attention.

“Who’s that with the camera?”

** *

Maverick cast his gaze in the direction Daisy-Mae was looking. The photographer. He’d forgotten all about him as soon as he’d joined her at the fence. He’d been caught up in her dazzling smile, the easy jokes, and the fact that she’d seemingly reinvented herself in three short weeks. Gone were the cropped shirts and that certain something that screamed Texan country babe. She was still a babe, of course, and wearing her usual hat, boots, and fitted jeans. But something was different. Was it her top? Hair? Makeup? She had a sophisticated nuance now that put her in a whole new category of The Sexiest Woman On Earth.

He rubbed his forehead, trying to refocus his thoughts. Daisy-Mae was a massive distraction.

She was also unattainable. And therefore perfectly fine to have a slight obsession over as long as they didn’t spend much time together so she didn’t pull him from what truly mattered—the game.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t still imagine having Daisy-Mae on his arm, taking her out to the nicest restaurants in the city and pampering her. He’d bet, despite her many pageant wins, that no man had ever treated her the way she truly deserved. Not even his best friend, Myles Wylder, who’d cared deeply for her. The two had stayed together beyond their teenage years more out of habit than love or deep compatibility. And for some reason, it was often Maverick reminding Myles that Daisy-Mae had a birthday coming up, or that Valentine’s Day was just around the corner. That shouldn’t happen. Especially to a woman as special and loyal as Daisy-Mae.

“The PR team has him shadowing me,” Maverick said, finally clearing his thoughts enough to answer her earlier question.

“Why?”

“They’re hoping to catch some candid shots of me being a decent human being, I guess.” He tried to play it off like his reputation didn’t bother him. Although he was sure she’d heardjust how severely his crappy reputation was dragging down the team and maybe even knew more about the team’s plans to fix it than he did.

“He took a photo of us.”

Maverick nodded. He wanted to laugh and enjoy that sunshine smile of hers, not talk about this. When he’d shot down the fairy-tale idea he’d had to agree to something. So a trailing photographer it was.

“Why? Are you going to be in an article or something?” Her look grew wary as she sized up the photographer.

“Do you want me to go over there and crush his camera?”

A mischievous twinkle flashed in her blue eyes. “Would you do that for me?”

“Anything.”

“Great. I could use another beer.” She handed him her empty bottle.

He hesitated, unsure whether he was being tested, teased, or if she simply just wanted a fresh drink.

“Sure. Same kind?” He checked the label. Not a Wylder homemade brew made by the youngest brother Ryan—smart call.

“Yes, please.” He moved away. “Oh, and can you get me some of Maria’s layered dip?”

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