by Laura Pavlov
“Why’d you assume I was drunk?”
“Because we wouldn’t have behaved like fools if we weren’t heavily intoxicated. I’m hoping you were three sheets to the wind the following night when you took me to dinner and acted like you were going to hell on a scholarship,” she said, her temper rising. Thinking about their date still enraged her.
Maverick’s head fell back, and a smile spread across his face. His eyes crinkled on the sides when he met her gaze. “You’ve got it all wrong, Peaches. I hadn’t had a sip of alcohol either night. I was doing the opposite of what you think.”
She pushed, sitting up straight, as she’d always wondered why he acted like such a pompous ass that night.
Focus.
Focus.
Focus.
“And exactly how were you doing the opposite of what I think?” She accepted the glass of water he pushed toward her and took a big gulp. Not as tasty as the world’s best Coors Light, but fine for now.
“I was trying not to go to hell on a scholarship.”
“Well, you weren’t trying very hard,” she said, before dipping her tongue right into the glass of ice water in attempt to get it to stop tingling.
“I think we better get you home, we can finish this conversation when you aren’t icing your tongue,” he said, a big, sexy smirk pulling at his mouth.
She lifted her face from the glass and used the cocktail napkin to dab the sides of her tongue to see if it worked.
“Me and my tongue are just fine.”
Her gaze went wide as two arms wrapped around Maverick’s neck and long brown hair cascaded down his chest, and someone leaned down and kissed his cheek. Elle swallowed hard and fought the need to dive across the table and scratch the woman’s eyes out. When her head lifted, Brittney’s stare locked with hers.
Brittney.
She’d been at Maverick’s house the very first day she arrived in Lake Tahoe. It seemed like such a long time ago, yet it had only been a week. She hadn’t seen any women at his house since, but maybe he smuggled his ladies in after she went to the guesthouse each night. Nick and Ryland slipped back into their seats beside Elle and neither appeared happy to see their new guest.
With her hands planted on Maverick’s shoulders, and two skanky looking girls flanked on each side of her, she scanned the table.
“It’s my lucky day. Ryland Nick, good to see you,” Brittney said, oozing sarcasm before meeting Elle’s gaze. “Oh, wow. I didn’t recognize you outside of your white linen outfit. I can’t think of your name, though? You’re on Mav’s payroll, right?” Her tone was half evil chuckle and half snarl. Her posse laughed behind her.
Oh, no, she didn’t.
She was barking up the wrong damn tree.
Maverick removed Brittney’s hands from his shoulders. “What the hell are you doing, Britt?”
Elle didn’t need Maverick to defend her. She could take care of herself. Always had.
Elle snapped her fingers, and the other woman looked up, surprised. “My name is Elle Fiore. And if memory serves, I’m not the only one working for Maaaaav.” She pushed to her feet and threw Brittney an exaggerated wink.
Ryland spattered beer all over the table. Nick fell back in his chair laughing. Clearly, these guys weren’t fans of the she-devil, Brittney either. Maverick stood, tossed some money on the table. “All right, we’re leaving.”
Brittney glared, turned to look at Maverick as if he were a meal she was about to devour. “I’m sure the help needs a ride home. But call me later and I’ll stop by, ’kay?”
“Not happening.” His voice came out harsh.
“Hey, I have an idea. How ‘bout I help you meet me out front,” Elle shouted. She’d had enough of this girl’s crap. She held up her arms in fight position. Peyton’s husband Jackson happened to be one of the best MMA fighters in San Francisco and he’d taught her self-defense moves. Brittney gasped at the invitation to fight. Elle may be a lot shorter than her, but she was scrappy, and she’d taken on bigger opponents than this before.
All three men howled in laughter before Maverick wrapped his arm around her waist. “Okay, Champ. Let’s get you home.”
She hugged both Ryland and Nick, glared at Brittney over their shoulder, and moved toward the door. Maverick’s hand rested on her lower back as he guided her through the parking lot.
“Sorry about Brittney,” he said, his voice gruff.
“It’s fine. The girl is slicker than snot on a doorknob, and she can kiss my grits.”
He opened her door, helped her into the truck, and reached over and buckled her seatbelt. “So you don’t like her then?”
She laughed and stared at him for a long moment before leaning back against the seat. He shut the passenger door. He’d surprised her several times this week with his kindness.
“I think we’re actually going to be friends, Wallace.” She fell against his shoulder.
He pulled out onto the road. “I think you’re right, Peaches.”
“You’re not as horrible as I thought you were.”
He wrapped an arm around her to keep her from sliding any further, and she nestled closer.
“Good to know.” And though she wasn’t looking at him, she could hear the smile in his voice.
“But you have terrible taste in women.”
He parked in the driveway and helped her into the guesthouse. Her face hit the bed before her body, and though she desperately needed water and aspirin, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun.
Chapter Six
Maverick’s Playbook
If all else fails—tackle your opponent!
“Where do you want the cooler?” Ryland asked. His girlfriend Tara walked behind him holding a pile of beach towels in her arms.
“Just leave it all here on the deck.” Maverick whistled for Daisy to get out of the water.
“You don’t want me to take these up to the house and throw them in the wash?” Tara said, dropping to sit on a chair.
This was the first time he’d taken the boat out from the dock at the new property. Though the house was going through major renovations, he could do what he pleased with the yard. Elle and Tommy had made some serious progress in a short amount of time, with most of the demolition completed. Elle, being a little drill sergeant, kept everyone on track.
“Nah. I’ll take them up to the house later.”
“Dude, your dog is a beast with the frisbee,” Nick said, as he and Jen stepped onto the deck with Daisy in tow.
He glanced down at his phone for the millionth time today. “Yeah, she’ll fetch anything. Frisbee’s, balls, socks. If you throw it, she’ll bring it back.”
“I’m bummed I didn’t get to meet Elle,” Jen said, sitting beside Tara.
“She’s something else,” Nick said with a grin. “You’ll both like her.”
Ryland nodded. “Keeps our boy here on his toes.”
Nick and Ryland had gone on and on about his designer today. She made quite an impression on the two men last night, which he assumed was the norm for her. She was a captivating woman. She oozed charm, and her being hot as hell sure didn’t hurt. The sight of her in those cut-off jean shorts and a thin white tank top clinging to her perky tits after she got all sweaty on the dance floor was engrained in his mind forever. Two cold showers later and he still couldn’t sleep last night, struggling to think of anything else. Probably good she didn’t answer her phone this morning when he decided to take the boat out, per his friends persistent nagging. The fact Ryland, Nick, and the girls showed up with four bags of groceries to fill the coolers, made it hard to turn them away.
Maverick stopped by and knocked on Elle’s door before he left, but she didn’t answer. Hell, even Daisy pouted for a good thirty minutes when she didn’t open the door for her this morning. Her car still in the driveway, he assumed she was sleeping it off. She’d had a lot to drink last night, and the girl couldn’t hold her liquor for shit, but she was cute as hell when her guard was down. The way she
offered to step outside to fight Brittney nearly undid him. Small and mighty. They’d formed the start of a friendship working together this week, and the last thing he needed to do was piss her off by crossing any lines with her. Especially when she was drunk. It hadn’t gone over well the first time around, and it took her over a year to move past it.
But shit.
He fought the urge to cover her sweet mouth several times over the night. And yeah, she had a boyfriend, but each time her gaze locked with his, he knew she felt the same attraction he did.
Sexy. Sultry. And needy.
“Yeah. You guys will like her. She’s a lot of fun. I’m sure she’ll go out on the boat one of these weekends. We still have a long way to go on the house, so there’s plenty of time.”
The sun faded into the horizon. Orange and red hues mixed with muted yellow. The turquoise water glistened beneath, looking like a fucking painting. Maverick never felt more comfortable or at home than he did in Lake Tahoe, where he’d grown up. A place where he wasn’t just an NFL quarterback, but a regular guy who’d gone to school, worked his first job, and instigated his fair share of teenage shenanigans. Hell, with the older locals, he was best known for being Mabel Wallace’s grandson than San Francisco’s quarterback. Mimi was a legend. At seventy-eight years old, you could still find her on a pair of water skis or taking out the jet ski. He liked to think he got his love of adventure from her, maybe not biologically, but from the large presence she had in his life. He glanced down at his phone again, still no response from Elle.
“You sure are checking your phone a lot. It’s Saturday, she has the day off,” Nick said, razzing him like the asshole he was.
“Fuck off. We work together. Just making sure she’s okay. She had a lot to drink last night.” Maverick reached for the pile of towels as they all walked around to the front of the house where they parked.
“She had a couple beers and a good buzz. She was hardly drunk enough for you to be worried. Hell, maybe you should be more concerned about your psycho girl, Brittney. What the hell is her deal? Elle didn’t take her shit at all. It was the best thing I’ve ever seen,” Ryland said, with a chuckle. His car beeped as he unlocked the doors.
“Shit. When she put her fists up in challenge, I think Britt pissed her pants,” Nick said, tipping his head back in laughter.
“Damn, I’m so bummed I missed it. I’d enjoy seeing Brittney put in her place,” Tara said, pushing up on her tiptoes to hug him goodbye.
“She was a bitch in high school, and she’s never changed. She thinks everyone’s beneath her. It’s about time someone stood up to her,” Jen said, with an apologetic shrug before he hugged her as well.
“Thanks for telling me now,” Maverick teased. He knew who Brittney was. She’d always been sugary sweet to him, but only because she wanted something from him. He’d witnessed the other side of Britt on occasion. But their families were old friends, and they’d grown up together. He wasn’t dating her. They shared a bed; a couple dozen times over the past decade.
“See you this week, asshole. Thanks for today,” Nick said, and they all shouted their goodbyes.
Maverick tossed the towels in the wash and took a quick shower. He ordered a pizza and pulled the garbage to the curb.
Daisy walked alongside him down the driveway, and the chirping of crickets filled the quiet night. Stars lit the sky above, and the water sparkled in the distance. Daisy let out a loud string of barks and took off toward the guesthouse. Maverick followed, squinting to see the blur of movement through the pine trees.
Elle Fiore—hauling ass down the small path near the house. She all but jumped out of her skin when she noticed him and Daisy walking toward her. Crunching leaves and pinecones, along with Elle’s heavy panting surrounded them. She reached for her earbuds and yanked them out.
“You scared me. What are you doing?” Her Southern twang full of irritation.
“The better question is what the hell are you doing?” he said, his arms crossed in front of his chest.
“I went for a run. What are you talking about?” She bent down to pat Daisy on the head, and the dog fell in a messy pile at her feet.
“You went for a run alone at night? While listening to music? Are you fucking kidding me?” What the hell was she thinking? And why the fuck did he care so much?
“I’m sorry, Dad. Did I break curfew?” She cocked her head to the side in challenge.
He chuckled. “It’s called common sense. You shouldn’t run alone at night with music blasting in your ears.”
“Please. This is Lake Tahoe. Are you telling me you’ve never run at night while listening to music?”
His laughter echoed around them. “Yeah, I’m twice your size. I don’t think anyone’s grabbing me from behind.”
“You’re such a chauvinistic ass. I can take care of myself.” An eyebrow raised as if she dared him to challenge her. Her running shorts barely covered her ass, showcasing toned, tanned legs which only pissed him off more. Her sweaty tank top clung to her body, and her face was completely bare of makeup.
Fucking stunning. And agitating at the same time.
“Really? Like it or not, Peaches, I could take you to the ground with no effort. If you want to be stubborn and claim you’re some sort of hundred pound badass, suit yourself.” He snapped his fingers for Daisy to follow and turned toward his house. He was done trying to talk sense into her. She had a stick up her ass once again.
“Hey.” Her voice laced with anger.
He stopped and turned to face her. Two hard peaks formed beneath her wet tank top. Seeing as though it was hot as freaking hell tonight, either she had a thing for needy goldendoodles, or she was reacting to him. She put on this tough front like she was unaffected by him, but he didn’t buy it. He saw her with her guard down last night, and her body was betraying her now.
“Did you need something?” His tone flat.
“First off, don’t ever guess a woman’s weight. And seeing as though you’re a good twenty pounds off, you don’t know what you’re talking about, genius. Lastly, just because you’re bigger than me, does not mean that you can take me down without a fight. You’re so wrong.”
“Am I?” He took a step toward her, and her chin lifted defiantly.
Maybe it was time to teach the little prima donna a life lesson about safety. Stubborn girl. Lost in her fairy-tale world.
Life isn’t all rainbows and unicorns, sweetheart.
She raised an eyebrow and smirked, before shifting on her heel and storming away. He took the opportunity to charge her from behind. She turned at the sound of pine needles snapping beneath his feet and gasped as he came up on her and wrapped both arms around her center. She reacted like a motherfucking caged tiger. She twisted to face him, unable to break free from his grasp. She flailed every single moveable body part with an unexpected force, and her knee came up and nailed him in the balls.
Son of a bitch.
He fell forward and braced their fall with one hand on her back, the other reaching for the ground as they went down hard. He landed above her. Her chest heaved against his, and she used her now free arm to grab his hair in her fist and pulled hard.
Jesus.
He planned to show her how easy it would be for someone to catch her off guard, but he sure as shit hadn’t prepared for a high school girl fight. He’d underestimated the strength of Elle Fiore.
She was a motherfucking Tasmanian devil. Scratch that. She was a motherfucking kung-fu-ninja-Tasmanian devil. He’d fought with dudes growing up that didn’t put up half the fight she did.
He wrapped his fingers around her wrists and pinned them above her head as she gasped for air, and continued to squirm, burying her face in his shoulder.
Was the little heathen surrendering?
Wishful thinking.
His shoulder wrenched like he’d been stung by a pack of bees. Not the case.
She fucking bit him.
He pressed her wrists harder above her head and l
eaned more weight on top of her hot little body as she writhed beneath him.
“Get off me, you baboon.” Her topaz eyes deepened with anger.
“Did you seriously just bite me?” He brought his nose above hers, mouths so close it’d be easy to graze her lips with his. He’d been in a constant state of want since the day she arrived at his house.
“You better believe I bit you,” she said, still panting, though her body no longer fought to get free.
He eased his fingers from her wrists, still hovering above her. Enough contact to feel every curve of her gorgeous body pressed against his.
“You’re a little scrapper, Peaches.” He laughed, looking down at her. Her radiant face lit by the moonlight beamed with pride.
“I’m guessing your balls are feeling it about now,” she said with a wicked grin.
If she only knew. His balls had been feeling it since the day her haughty ass pulled into his driveway. It had much more to do with her presence than the knee she nailed him with. No pun intended.
“You concerned about my balls, Peaches?”
She laughed, this vibrant sound that had his chest tightening.
For fuck’s sake. First blue balls, and now her laugh had him reacting like a schoolgirl with a crush. She wasn’t getting his goddamn man-card without a fight.
“Your balls are the least of my concern, Wallace.” She smiled, and a pink hue spread across her cheeks.
Fucking adorable.
“Oh yeah? Well, you should be concerned about running alone at night. You get that now, right?”
“Fine. Can you get off me? I can barely breathe, you barbarian.” Her words didn’t match her body. She arched a bit, pressing herself closer to him.
“What does the Count think about you running alone at night?” He wanted to know more about her boyfriend. And while he had her full attention, he’d ask.
Her gaze darted away from his and her teeth sank into her bottom lip. The little vixen was nervous about something.
“Cat got your tongue, Peaches?” His voice gruff.
She faced him again. Daisy scampered around chasing her tail, paying them no attention.