Page 27 of Fumbled Love

Maverick:Well, you are carrying my kid. I want to make sure he’s well-nourished.

I bit down on my bottom lip, smiled, and was about to respond when another text came through.

Maverick:Seriously, we just finished up, and I’m looking for something to do. If you already have dinner plans tonight, I understand. Enjoy your time with your mom.

Me:She has to pick my stepfather up from work. His car is in the shop. If you want to meet me, we can grab something nearby.

Maverick:Text me where you are. I’m on my way.

* * *

“Hi.” I walked over to Maverick’s truck as he rolled down the window.

He leaned across the seat, keeping one hand on the steering wheel. “Hop in.”

“I’m afraid I’m not much of a hopper these days.” I stuffed my bags in the back and buckled my seat belt. “But thanks for picking me up. I’m starving.”

He pulled away from the curb and headed toward downtown Athens. “You were just giving me shit a little while ago about always wanting to feed you.”

“I did no such thing. I was simply pointing out that this is two out of three meals in the same day that we will have eaten together. I just don’t want you to get too clingy,” I teased.

“So, you don’t want me to get too attached. Got it.” He winked.

I smacked his knee playfully. “Eyes on the road, mister.” I shifted in my seat and crossed my legs. He’d been staring at me a little too long, and it was giving me these fuzzy little feelings.

“You’re awfully bossy today.” He glanced in the rearview mirror.

“I hate shopping.”

“Really,” he mocked. “I couldn’t tell.” He clicked his blinker and shifted lanes. “If you don’t enjoy it, then why bother? Just buy gift cards.”

“My mom enjoys it and I was looking for something we could do together. Oh, look what she bought.” I reached behind my seat to grab the bag from the back. I placed it on my lap and pushed the tissue paper aside. I pulled out the milestone mat and held it up.

“What is that?” he asked, glancing out of the corner of his eye.

“It’s for the baby’s first year. You lay them on the blanket next to whatever month they are so you can see how much they grow throughout the year.”

He glanced over briefly and swallowed. “That’s cool. What else did you get?”

“Just a few outfits and a couple maternity shirts.”

His eyes swept over me, and I was suddenly very self-conscious. “You don’t look like you need those yet?”

“I will eventually,” I said, crossing my legs. I was hyperaware of how physically close we were to each other. Every single one of my senses was going into overdrive.

We eased down Clayton Street and found an open parking spot. The sidewalks were filled with young families sipping hot chocolate and admiring the window displays. The road was blocked off and scattered with elves handing out candy canes, and children were lined up for pictures with Santa. Maverick secured the hat on his head and perched his sunglasses on his nose. He was dressed in a pair of dark wash jeans and a gray Nike hoodie. Even dressed down, my baby daddy looked hot.

We spotted a food truck at the end of the block, ordered a few tacos, and snagged a small bistro table underneath a white tent. Maverick took a seat facing the back so that no one would see him, and I took the spot closest to the outdoor heater because, even if the sun was out, the air was still crisp.

“So, what’s it like living in Manhattan?” he asked, taking a bite of the taco.

I kept my gaze carefully focused on the plate in front of me. “Not as glamourous as it was in the beginning.”

“That’s pretty vague,” he said between bites of his food.

I lifted my shoulder. “I work a lot and don’t get out as much as I should.”

His eyes studied my face to see if I was serious. “Sounds boring.”

---