Page 158 of Can't Get Enough

“No,” Mama says, nodding her head toward the living room. “Delivered them himself.”

“Delivered them…” My poor overworked, overstimulated brain can’t keep up. “You mean he… he’s…”

“Go get him.” Aunt G winks conspiratorially. “You made that man wait long enough.”

I turn on my heel and rush into the living room. Maverick faces the window, his back to me, long and powerful, the muscles flexing under his T-shirt. When he turns, I run across the room, holding nothing back. I barrel into him probably before he even has time to process that it’s me. The oomph of air that pushes out of him mists my cheek, and he tightens his arms around me.

“Hey, Gorgeous,” he whispers in my ear, running his hands down my back to rest at the curve of my hips.

“Hey?” I gape at him, incredulous on so many levels. “You do what you did and just come in here saying hey? Is that all you have to say?”

“I told you I was going to show you, right?” He cups my face in twolarge hands, his thumbs brushing tenderly over my lips. “So do you see now?”

“I see.” Tears streak my cheeks and I cover his hands at my face with my own. “You love me.”

“Damn right I love you.” He dips and captures my mouth in a kiss that searches my soul and squeezes my heart. Makes the blood sing in my veins like that wordless jazz tune we danced to on a yacht under a moonlit sky. I hear the words to the song now. They’reloveandtrustandright nowandforeverandalwaysandenough.

“What about your dad?” I ask, when my lungs are so air-starved we have to break the kiss.

“He was the one who told me do it. Well, I’d already decided, but I knew buying this team was almost as important to him as it was to me.”

“I know this was hard.” I caress his nape and knit my brows in concern. “What’d he say?”

“He said there is nothing and no one I would have chosen over your mother. If you feel that way about Hendrix, I’ll kick your ass myself if you buy this team.” He gives me a wry grin. “He does have a few inches on me and he’s in great shape for an old man.”

“And you do feel that way about me?” I ask, breathless and undone by the force of such a man putting me first this way.

“I already told you I love you. Now you just fishing.” He chuckles. “But if there is any doubt, yes. I feel that way about you. Nothing is more important.”

“I love you too,” I say, pressing a kiss to his lips. “And maybe just as important, at least to me, I trust you.”

The laughter fades in his eyes, on his lips. “That means as much to me too. Thank you. And I’ll never take either for granted.”

“As much as I love that you chose me, it bothers me so badly that Carverson gets what he wants, gets to walk away unscathed.”

“Unscathed?” Maverick’s mouth hardens, firms into a line I would never want to cross.

“He won’t be. Not by the time I’m done with him.”

“You have a plan?” I ask, hoping that we win our case, but also hoping, as petty as it sounds, that the man who robbed Maverick of this dream suffers for it.

“Oh, I always have a plan.” He plucks the rose I didn’t even realize I was still holding from my fingers. “How do you think I got you?”

CHAPTER 52

HENDRIX

Ihave something for you.”

I should be used to hearing those words from Maverick by now. If ever a man was determined to shower a woman with gifts, he is. The flowers arriving wherever I am. The diamond-and-platinum lower grill with my initials that showed up at Mama’s house after I casually mentioned I liked one Beyoncé was rocking. I’ve taken care of myself and others for so long, I almost forgot how it feels for someone else to want to take care of me.

Or as an adult… have I ever really known?

Because sometimes it feels like new emotions were invented for this thing that has blossomed between the two of us. I’m not sure how to name it, and it’s articulated only in the pace of my heart when I think of him. In the hitch of my breath when I first see him. In the thrum ofhome, home, homebeneath every second we’re together. Of course, we’ve said we love each other, but that feels inadequate. Almost cliché. I’ve heard it used so often in the past, but the depth, the care that is developing in our relationship, I’ve rarely seen. Never experienced firsthand.

“What do you have for me?” I ask, resting my bottom on the edge of Daddy’s old desk. We’ve still been working out of Mama’s house for the last week, but Maverick leaves today and I’m heading back to Atlanta next week. Aunt Geneva’s doctor gave her the official all clear a few days ago.

“A gift.” He scoots the office chair closer and pulls me from my perch on the desk down to his lap. “But you don’t have to accept it.”

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