Page 150 of Can't Get Enough

I pull on a linen shorts romper that’s cool and loose. And has pockets, a top-ten invention in my opinion. Toss my braids up into a top knot, throw on some oversized gold hoop earrings, and I’m ready for the day.

Going down the stairs, I smell the flowers before I see them. As soon as I reach the main floor, a dozen champagne roses come into view sitting on the glass coffee table. I lean down to smell one. On impulse, I snap a stem and slide the blossom into my braids.

Maverick’s back is to me while he cooks. I walk up to him and squeeze his ass. He stiffens and leans back against my chest.

“I’m flattered,” he says, his voice serious. “But I have a girlfriend.”

“Bet she can’t put it on you like I can,” I whisper in his ear and loop one arm around his waist.

He shrugs. “She might be willing to share.”

I bite his neck and laugh when he fake howls. “No, she won’t.”

He turns and splays one hand over my jaw and neck, rests the other at my hip. “You hungry?”

“I could eat,” I understate since my stomach is chewing itself.

“Sit.” He nods to my kitchen counter. “I got you.”

It’s so sexy when he serves me. He sets the plate of eggs and turkey bacon down in front of me.

“Sorry it’s basic,” he says. “Laurenz has spoiled me. I just went with what you had here and kept it simple.”

“It’s perfect.” I’m about to take a bite of my eggs, when my mother’s chiding voice demands that I say grace. “Never thought I’d say this, but I’m ready to go home. I miss Mama and Aunt G.”

“You talked to them?” He sets a plate down with mine on the counter and takes the stool beside me.

“Briefly. Mrs. Redmond says they’re good, but I want to see for myself.”

“Guess we part ways again.” He bumps his knee against mine. “I miss you already.”

“Two weeks in Tokyo and you’ll be back. I’ll actually be backhereby then. Aunt Geneva will be recovered enough for me to come home.”

“You sound reluctant. Anything you want to talk about?”

“Not really.” I shrug. “Living with them has just shown me that this arrangement has an expiration date. Aunt G is seventy-seven years old. I can’t expect her to do this much longer. They both want it, but it’s not realistic. We’ll all have some tough decisions to make.”

“You’re right.” He links our hands on the counter between us. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“‘We,’ huh?” I tease.

“I want everything to be ‘we.’” He kisses my cheek.

A knock at the door interrupts us.

“That’s probably Skipper.” I rise and start for the door. “She’s bringing some stuff from the office before I fly back to Charlotte.”

“Oh, shit.”

I stop and turn to look at him. “What?”

“Bolt’s coming by to grab me for the airport.”

My eyes go wide. “What if they…”

I speed-walk to the door and wrench it open to find both of our assistants on the threshold, standing at least a foot apart, arms folded and eyes fixed straight ahead.

“Oh.” I gulp my down my laughter. “Skipper. Bolt. Good morning.”

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