Say You're Mine

by Alexis Winter

  He laughs. “Oh, I know. That move has ‘Tori’ written all over it. But no, my question—and I don’t want to put any pressure on you, but we just have to know: are you in love with my daughter?”

  I had a feeling this was what he was going to ask me, and I appreciate him starting this conversation.

  “Yes, sir. More than anything. But I want you to know, when she and Grant moved in, we were nothing more than friends. But over time, I fell in love with them. I can’t imagine my life without them now.”

  Jack smiles and nods. “I can tell, Maverick. The way you look at her is how a man should look at the woman he’s in love with. I don’t know if you know this, but my daughter doesn’t exactly have the best track record when it comes to men.”

  “I assumed as much after I met Grant’s father.”

  “And I also understand that you and your brother have . . . well . . . had a checkered past as well?”

  “I’m assuming you heard this from my brother?”

  “Yes. He told me a lot last year when he came to Wisconsin for Tori.”

  I nod, relieved I don’t have to go through the hard part of telling him about our past. Thanks, Kalum.

  “Yes, we do, but I hope you know that it’s all in the past. We were young and stupid. We now know what it’s like on the other side, and I never want to go back there. Neither does Kalum. This, right here, is what life’s about. Not the thrill of driving off in a Shelby Mustang that isn’t mine.”

  “I appreciate your honesty,” Jack says before leaning in a little closer. “But tell me, what is that rush like, driving 100 miles per hour in a hot car that you broke into in less than a minute?”

  I nearly spit out my beer. Did Scarlett’s dad really just ask me what it’s like to steal a car? By the look in his eye, he absolutely did.

  “Jack, are you asking . . .”

  “Yes, Maverick. I live in a small town in Wisconsin and the highest speed limit is 45 miles per hour. The two cops we employ have nothing better to do than give traffic tickets when you go 46. Just indulge an old man, will you?”

  “All right.” I think for a second, figuring out how to describe this to a man I hope to one day be related to.

  “Think of the most exciting moment of your life. The one that still gives you chills.” He closes his eyes and nods, letting the memory take over.

  “Now multiply that by 1 million. Picture the car you want, put your wife in the seat next to you wearing the outfit that drives you fucking crazy, and you’re driving as fast as you want to go.”

  Jack smiles and takes another sip of his beer. I do the same, realizing I might’ve just had my first real bonding moment with Scarlett’s father.

  “I love your daughter, sir,” I say, just wanting to get it out there before I lose my nerve.

  “I know you do.”

  “One day I want to marry her. I want to be Grant’s father.”

  “I’d love nothing more.”

  We’re sitting in comfortable silence when Scarlett walks in, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She places a kiss on my cheek before wrapping her arms around her father.

  “Are you two causing trouble?” she asks with laughter in her voice.

  “Not at all. We were just talking about the things we love,” Jack says, placing a kiss atop her head. “Oh, and stealing cars.”

  I spit out my beer. Scarlett looks at him like he’s grown a second head. Jack just laughs as he exits the kitchen.

  “What was that all about?” Scarlett asks.

  “I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure if we host Thanksgiving again next year, I’d better have a Mustang ready for your dad.”

  37

  Scarlett

  “Good morning, pretty girl.”

  Those are four words I’ll never get tired of hearing. Each morning, when I begin to stir, his voice is the first thing I hear. It’s the best thing a gal could wake up to.

  That and the very present morning wood that usually accompanies his greeting.

  “Mmm . . . good morning, handsome,” I say snuggling into Maverick’s embrace as he places a kiss on my neck.

  When I first moved into Maverick’s house, I remember thinking I was getting the best sleep of my life. Despite sharing a bedroom with my son, I had a comfortable bed, nice linens, and no sounds or sirens at all hours of the night like in the city.

  Then I spent one night in this huge king bed wrapped in Maverick’s arms. It quickly became my favorite place to sleep for more reasons than the down comforter.

  Thanksgiving was two days ago, but my body is still exhausted from the all-day affair. That and the all-night sex session Maverick and I indulged in last night. My parents went back to Wisconsin yesterday and took Grant for the rest of the weekend, wanting to show him off to their friends. It’s the first time he’s been away from me for an extended period of time, and though I trust my parents with his life, it’s still scary being separated from my child.

  But Maverick has helped to ease my anxiety about Grant’s absence. Many, many times.

  “I think we had sex in every room but this one last night,” he says in my ear as his hands roam my body, paying special attention to my nipples, which are peaking thanks to the attention.

  “It’s not my fault you couldn’t wait three more steps and fucked me in the hallway,” I say, giggling.

  “No regrets. Pinning you against the wall and taking you right then was the highlight of my night.”

  “Oh really?” I ask as I roll over, wanting to see his face. “It wasn’t the blowjob I gave you in the shower?”

  He doesn’t answer right away—a quizzical look flashing across his face. “Nope. Hallway. New territory.”

  My hand reaches for his cock, which is very hard, and very ready for me this morning. “Huh. Interesting. I must have lost my touch. Maybe I shouldn’t give you—”

  My threat, which was never going to be real, is cut off as his mouth finds mine. Our teeth hit as my laugh can’t be contained, but I don’t care. Being here with him, sharing laughs and a few intimate touches in the morning, makes me feel young again. Young still. Sometimes I have to remind myself that I’m only 23.

  “As much as I would love to continue kissing you,” Maverick says, barely removing his lips from mine. “We need to get up. You have a big day ahead of you.”

  He begins to get up, but I grab his arm, pulling him back down to the bed.

  “What do I have? I have nothing today but catching up on laundry and schoolwork and maybe another round with you.”

  He gives me a quick kiss. “Nope. The girls are picking you up in an hour.”

  “What?” Now I’m even more confused.

  “You heard me. You have an hour to get ready.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  Maverick breaks from my hold and begins putting on boxers and pants. Figuring any idea I had of a morning session is out the door, I slip on one of his shirts, knowing it drives him crazy to see me in his clothes.

  “You really won’t tell me?” I ask as I wrap my arms around his neck, playing with his hair.

  “Your charms won’t work on me, woman,” he says, quickly placing a kiss on my lips before slithering away. “Now get showered, dress comfortably, and if you’re a good girl, tonight it’s lady’s choice.”

  How could I say no to that?

  “I swear to all that is holy, Scarlett, you better fucking marry this man.”

  At least, I’m pretty sure that’s what Tori said in-between moans as Hans, a very handsome, and I’m pretty sure very gay, masseuse worked the knots out of her back.

  “Tori, you sound like you’re having sex. You’re probably making him very uncomfortable.”

  “I am not. Hans, am I making you uncomfortable?”

  “No, Miss Tori. You just relax.”

  Tori turns her head and quickly sticks her tongue out at me before putting her face in the headrest.

  My sister is ridiculous.
And I love her. And I love Maverick for setting up this day.

  Tori and I are getting massages while Annabelle and Amanda opted for facials. Manis and pedis are next.

  I can’t believe Maverick did all of this. For me. For my friends. The girls slipped and told me that he had originally scheduled this when I was sick, but said it all worked out to do this after Thanksgiving.

  I need to pinch myself to make sure this is real. Because I feel like the other shoe is about to drop. It has to, right? School is amazing. My job at the doctor’s office is smooth sailing. Grant is healthy and thriving, and Maverick is . . . well . . . pretty much perfect.

  I’m trying not to think negatively, but usually nothing can be this perfect forever. However, I’m determined to enjoy the ride while it lasts.

  “So? Are you?” Tori asks as we put on our robes, the masseurs having left the room after our hour was up.

  “Am I what? Going to get more cucumber water? Hell yeah. That stuff is amazing.”

  “No, bitch. Are you going to marry Maverick?”

  Did Hans rub some sort of hallucinogenic drug into her skin?

  “What do you mean am I going to marry Maverick? We just started dating, and even that’s hard when we have Grant. How about we get you married first, and then we can talk about me?”

  “Oh come on, you know you want to,” she says as we exit the room, meeting Annabelle as she walks out of her facial.

  “What does Scarlett want to do?” she asks.

  Tori and I answer at the same time:

  “Marry Maverick!” she says.

  “Nothing!” I practically yell.

  Annabelle laughs at our simultaneous answers.

  “It’s too soon,” I say as we make our way to the salon for our nail treatments. “We’re in a good place. I’m in a good place. Let’s not rock the boat, shall we?”

  We take our seats at the pedicure station and Amanda walks in looking anything but relaxed.

  “Are you okay?” Annabelle asks. “I didn’t know where you went.”

  “Scarlett.” The way Amanda says my name sends a cold chill up my spine.

  “What? Is everyone all right? Is Maverick? Oh my God, is he okay?”

  She nods. “Yes. God, yes, I’m sorry. But it’s . . .”

  “Just tell her,” Tori says, now looking worried.

  “It’s Ryan. He’s been released from jail.”

  38

  Maverick

  As I stood outside the spa to pick up Scarlett, I expected her to look refreshed. Relaxed. Ready to jump my bones when we got home in thanks for the pampering.

  Instead, I was greeted by a girl who looked like she just saw a ghost.

  “Baby, what’s wrong?” I ask for the hundredth time as we drive back to the house. “You’re really starting to freak me out.”

  She squeezes my hand. “I’ll tell you when we get home. I don’t want to have this conversation while you’re driving.”

  I drive like a madman the rest of the way. Whatever is on her mind is now eating away at me—my imagination is coming up with a million worst-case scenarios.

  But whatever was going through my mind is nothing compared to what I see when we pull into the driveway.

  Ryan. Sitting on my front porch.

  “What the fuck? What is he doing here? I’m going to kill him.” I go to open the door, but Scarlett grabs my arm, trying to stop me.

  “This . . . shit, I never thought he’d show up here . . . this is what I was going to tell you.”

  I turn and look at her, anger pouring through my veins.

  “When did you find out?”

  “Amanda told me at the spa. She got a phone call. He’s actually been out since yesterday, but with the holiday, she just got word.”

  I barely hear the last of her words as I storm out of my truck. How dare this motherfucker think he can show up here, on my property, like he has some sort of right to be here.

  He doesn’t. Not anymore.

  He barely stands as I reach back and punch him across the face. I hear Scarlett screaming behind me as blood goes flying from his nose.

  “What the fuck, man?” he says, grabbing his face, blindsided by the punch.

  Scarlett goes down to check on him, which pisses me off even more.

  “What the hell was that?” she asks, tilting his head up to help stop the bleeding.

  “Of course you would run to him,” I say, too angry to think straight.

  “I wouldn’t have if you hadn’t fucking punched him!” she yells before standing up.

  Once in front of me, she grabs me by the shirt and plants a huge kiss on my lips, surprising the ever-loving hell out of me.

  “I love you, Maverick. You’re the most amazing man I’ve ever met. But right now, you are acting like an idiot. So you need to go inside, put some ice on your hand, and wait until I handle this.”

  I look at Ryan, who is on the sidewalk, still trying to stop the bleeding from his nose.

  “No. I—”

  “No nothing. This isn’t up for debate. You. Inside. Wait.”

  I let out a deep breath, knowing she isn’t going to back down. “Fine. But I’ll be right inside. Shout if you need anything.”

  I kiss her head and walk inside, but make sure to keep the front curtains open so I can see what’s going on.

  I swear they’re out there for hours. I know she knows I’m watching. She’s caught me a few times and given me a healthy eye roll for it. I don’t care. I’ll let her handle that, but I’m not letting her out of my sight.

  Finally, after what feels like forever, a cab pulls up and Ryan gets in. She watches it drive away before turning and coming into the house.

  “I’m sorry,” I say quickly, needing her to hear the words. “I know I shouldn’t have hit him. I just . . . seeing him and knowing . . . I was stupid, and I’m sorry.”

  She walks over, takes the hand I’ve been icing, and places a kiss on it.

  “Thank you. I appreciate that. And hopefully, that’s the last time you’ll have to see Ryan around here.”

  Her words stun me. Does she really mean . . .

  “What are you saying? Is he leaving town?”

  “I don’t know,” she begins, situating herself on the couch. “It started the same way it always does. Excuses. Telling me he’s come to his senses and that he’s going to be there for Grant and me this time. Asking me if he could crash here because he doesn’t have a place to stay.”

  “Considering he’s not here now, I’m guessing you told him no?”

  She nods. “Yes, I know better than to bring him here. A bloody nose would be the least of his problems.”

  She’s got that right.

  “I told him he couldn’t stay here. That you and I are together now and that I’m finally happy with my life. But I did tell him that if he wanted to, over time, he could get to know Grant. Want to know what he said?”

  “I don’t, but I do.”

  “He said he’d have to think about it. At that point, I knew he never wanted to be Grant’s father. So I told him to leave and never come back. We don’t need him. Grant is better off without him. And so am I.”

  I bring her into my arms and hold her, because as much as I hate that asshole, I know she wanted Grant to know who his father was. I remember the days of wishing my father was still around, but I didn’t have any male figures to step in and fill that void. Grant does. And I’ll make sure he never has to feel the way I did. Ever.

  “So is he gone?”

  She nods, a few tears coming from her eyes. “Yeah. And I don’t know why I’m crying. I should be happy that this chapter is closed.”

  I kiss the top of her head. “You’re sad for your son. He’s an amazing kid and the man who helped create him doesn’t want to be a part of that. And that’s sad. But you know what? That little boy will never know a day without love. He will never know what loneliness feels like. And neither will you.”

  She looks up at me, adjusting herself
so she can kiss me. Deeply. This is not just any kiss—this kiss has more emotion behind it than any other we’ve shared.

  And we’ve shared a lot.

  “Take me to bed, Maverick. Make love to me.”

  39

  Scarlett

  Every time with Maverick is different. I don’t know how, but it just is.

  There are times when our attraction is so out of control, we don’t even make it to the bedroom.

  There are times when it’s slow and sensual, like he’s making sure to touch and kiss every inch of my body during the experience.

  But what we’re sharing right now as he’s making sure I can feel every inch of him going in and out of me while trailing kisses up and down my body? This is on a different level.

  “God, Scarlett, I love you so much,” he says, slowly thrusting in and out of me. His rhythm is deliberate and wonderful, making me feel every movement.

  “I love you, Maverick,” I say, tilting my hips up ever so slightly—wanting just a little bit more. Needing more. This man is driving me crazy in the best possible way.

  I’ve never before known sex like this—I’d heard the term “making love” but had never experienced it. Other men I’d been with were so selfish that I never realized it was a real thing. Not until I was with Maverick.

  I didn’t realize that sex wasn’t just something you physically felt—and even then, it was a crapshoot. A few tingles. Maybe an orgasm. Once or twice I even broke out in a sweat. But I never understood what Tori was talking about over the years about sex being so enjoyable.

  Now I know.

  And although I’m loving the slow and sensual pace Maverick is setting, I want more. I need more.

  “Maverick,” I moan.

  “Yeah, baby?”

  “I want you to fuck me.”

  He lifts me into his arms, sitting me on his lap in the middle of the bed, with my legs wrapped around him.

  “I thought you wanted it slow,” he says, covering my neck and shoulder with kisses while playing with a nipple.