Maverick

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Maverick Page 12

by Karina Halle


  “Jesus,” I cry out, pushing myself to the breaking point. “I’m coming soon.”

  “Fuck yeah,” he moans, and I hear his breath become shorter as he gasps for air. “Fucking come for me, Riley,” he growls. “Come all over your hand.”

  But he doesn’t have to command me, it’s already happening. I’m pulled under the waves, sucked down into the whirling abyss. My voice echoes in the cabin as I call out his name over and over. I don’t care. I don’t care about anything except the blissful warmth surrounding me, that out-of-body experience that only good sex can bring.

  And, fucking hell, that wasn’t even sex. I was just getting myself off to his command. That was one of the best orgasms I’ve ever had and he didn’t even lay a finger on me.

  Once my breath returns to normal, I listen for him. I hear him groan a little, then the sleeping bag unzipping further.

  I smile to myself then say, “Did you make a mess?”

  I hear his soft laugh. “I usually have good aim but…” There’s a crinkle as he looks in his pack, and then a soft sound as he cleans himself off. “I’m good.”

  I can’t believe we did that, I want to say. But for once, I’m tongue-tied. I’m still swimming on the high of what just happened. How hot that was and yet so fucking crazy. And then I’m thinking, what does it mean? Is that what we are, two people so obviously attracted to each other, yet confined to just jerk off in front of each other?

  Not that I have a problem with that, but I scarcely see the difference between this and him actually fucking me silly. I guess it comes down to technicalities, but does Mav actually think he has to take a lie detector test at some point? He would pass the “have you slept with her?” question, but would epically fail the “have you both jacked off in front of each other?” question.

  “Riley,” he says after a few moments. My name sounds both wonderful on his lips and foreign, like it means something else now.

  “Yeah?”

  Silence. A beat passes. I can almost hear him grappling with what to say. I don’t know what to say either.

  Then, “Good night.”

  “Good night, Mav.”

  When I wake up the next morning, the cabin is still dark. But it takes me a moment to realize it’s because there are no windows. Inside, it’s timeless.

  I roll over, switch on the lamp, and look to see Mav’s sleeping bag all rolled up. His pack is gone. I hoist myself up on my elbows and look around the rest of the cabin. It’s empty again.

  I get out of bed and check my phone, but the battery is dead. It always drains faster at higher elevations.

  I get to my feet, slip on my ski boots and jacket, and open the door.

  The world is white and bright and I have to shield my eyes for a moment until I locate my sunglasses in my jacket pocket.

  The cabin is located within the treeline, and though the trail we came up on seems pretty obvious thanks to orange trail markers stuck on the pines, it also looks like we’re in no man’s land. But that’s the funny thing about the mountains, sometimes you think the desolation is crushing until you see a family of backcountry snowboarders glide past, waving cheerily.

  But in this instance, I don’t see any of that. What I do see is Maverick’s tracks leading from the cabin to his skis and then the ski tracks taking off in a northwestern direction.

  The sun is just above the mountains, so I estimate the time to be about seven-thirty, maybe eight. It’s not like Mav to just leave like this without waking me up, but then again, we’ve never spent the night together before. This might just be what he does. We didn’t have sex last night, but it was the closest thing we could get to it. Maybe I just freaked him out so much he had to bail.

  But that doesn’t explain why he left the sleeping bag behind and besides, I know Mav. He might be a player but I know he cares enough about me, at least as a colleague, that he wouldn’t do that.

  So I wait around, packing everything up and then standing around on my skis outside the cabin. The silly thing is, with my phone dead, I have no way of contacting Mav. We do have our beacons on, as that’s generally the protocol when you’re out with another person on the team, but I don’t know if I should try and locate it yet and I’m pretty sure Mav has the locator in his pack.

  I wait a few hours, until the sun is definitely closer to noon now and I’m starting to worry. I drink some water, eat some beef jerky, and think about all the different ways I want to kill him. I totally realize that he could be dead right now or dying, but I don’t want to think about that (nor the fact that he just left me up a fucking mountain), so I channel it all into anger and annoyance because it’s easier to deal with.

  And then, over the snowy ridge, I see the top of his toque, followed by his determined gaze, charming smile, and a golden lab in his arms, cradling the large dog like a child. Mav skis toward me, and in that moment I forget ever being mad and I’m melting like butter in Sherpa tea.

  “Found him,” Mav says, his cheeks red, his brow covered with a thin sheen of sweat that sparkles in the sunlight. I don’t think I’ve ever been so attracted to someone in all my life.

  “You did,” I say, unable to keep the grin from splitting my face. “Hey Charles,” I say softly to the lab as Mav skis right up to me.

  The dog licks my hand and then settles back into Mav like he’s always belonged there. “What happened?” I ask.

  “He had fallen off a ridge, pretty sure his leg is broken,” he says. “But I can’t splint it right now and he seems comfortable. So I’ll ski down with him this way.”

  “I was worried,” I say softly, stroking Charles’s nose.

  “I’m sorry,” he says. “I went out for a piss just before dawn and thought I heard whimpering far off over the ridge. I grabbed my stuff and went. No wonder he wouldn’t come after the treats, he couldn’t even move. I had to do some solo rope maneuvers to get myself down there and then haul him up.”

  “You should have come to get me.”

  “I know,” he says, looking sheepish. “You would have been a great help. But I looked at you sleeping this morning and…”

  “And what?”

  He meets my eyes, a flash of intensity coming over them. “You looked beautiful. I’d never seen you sleep before.”

  I try not to smile, feeling strangely embarrassed. “That’s not for lack of trying on my behalf.”

  “I know. I just didn’t want to disturb you. I’m sorry.”

  “You’re forgiven,” I tell him. “Let’s get Charles back to his owner then.”

  I get my pack on, along with both sleeping bags, and we start skiing down the mountain, an easy and slow descent since Mav is skiing with a giant dog in his arms.

  Hours later, Charles is taken to the vet in Castlegar and reunited with his owner, and Mav drives us both back to North Ridge.

  As he stops outside my house, I can’t help but linger at the passenger door as I get out, trying to think of what to say. Are both of us just going to forget what happened last night? I mean it wasn’t sex, but it was something. In some ways, it was far more intimate than sex. That’s what happens when your imagination takes over, and he gave my imagination permission to run wild.

  “Okay,” I tell him, hanging onto the open door. “That was fun.”

  “You’re fucking right it was.”

  “Next time you’re doing a dog rescue, know I’m your gal. Just remember to wake me up.”

  He gives me a lazy smile. “No promises, little minx.”

  God. Little minx. The name is conjuring up every lewd word from last night. Good lord, I still can’t believe we did that.

  I straighten my shoulders, trying to compose myself. “See you later.”

  “See you later,” he says. Then drives off.

  I exhale like I was holding my breath from the moment we first left North Ridge.

  10

  CHAPTER TEN

  Riley

  The Bald Eagle Bistro is probably one of North Ridge’s more tren
dy dining establishments. I wouldn’t know, because for the weeks I’ve been here, I’ve been either making mac and cheese in my kitchenette or grabbing greasy diner food at Smitty’s.

  But today is Delilah’s night off, and so her and Rachel asked if I’d go out with them for dinner and drinks.

  I said yes, of course. Yes, because I want to get to know the girls better and yes because I need someone to talk to about what’s been going on between me and Maverick. I don’t even know if they’ll want to hear about it because they probably see Mav as a brother (plus Delilah already told me to watch out for him), but if the opportunity presents itself, I’m taking it.

  And I do.

  I’ve only been at the high-top table with them long enough to order drinks and take a quick glance at the menu before Delilah says, “So, what’s the deal with you and Mav?”

  I take a careful sip of my drink before I answer, wondering what and if I should leave anything out. Like what happened on top of that mountain. Probably the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced without someone actually touching me.

  “What do you mean?” I ask, extra innocent.

  Rachel smirks at me and nudges Delilah with her elbow. “Look at her. She’s blushing.”

  “I don’t blush,” I tell them. “If anything, it’s the drink.” I point at the dirty martini.

  “You may not blush, but you still have a tell-all. You look guilty as fuck,” Delilah says. “So, what’s the deal with you and Mav? Still just co-workers?”

  “Still just co-workers.”

  They both stare at me in dry disbelief.

  I crack. If I’m a cookie, I’m crumbling. I sigh. “Okay, what do you want to know?”

  “I don’t know, anything,” Del says. “Give me the gossip. I’m the only single one here.”

  “I’m single,” I tell her imploringly, putting my hand on the table. “Believe me.”

  “So you’re not sleeping together?” Rachel asks.

  I shake my head. “No. We’re not.” They don’t look like they believe me. “It’s true. I mean, I want to. And he knows it. But we haven’t.”

  “He knows it?” Del asks.

  I laugh. “Look, I’m not a wallflower when it comes to men or sex. I go after what I want. And I’ve made it perfectly clear to Mav that I want him.”

  “And you still haven’t slept together?” Rachel asks, eyes wide. “What the fuck? It’s Mav! He’s a fucking man-whore. He’s slept with half this town.”

  Okay. Ouch. I didn’t think that would bother me because I kind of knew that, but even so, it hurts. Jealousy flares inside me.

  “Rachel,” Del admonishes her.

  “Sorry,” Rachel says. “Really, I didn’t mean to sound so crass. It’s just…I mean, Maverick is Maverick. And you are you. He should be completely obsessed with you.”

  “That’s true,” Del says, nodding. “What’s his deal?”

  “His deal is that he wants his job more than me, and you know what? I respect that. I feel the same way. I didn’t work my ass off all these years just to throw it all away for a night of mind-blowing sex.” I pause. “That said, I know how to keep a secret. But he’s just too stubborn to try.”

  “I still can’t believe it,” Rachel mutters, stabbing a plastic sword in her drink. The server comes by and we put in an order for nachos, spinach and artichoke dip, and popcorn shrimp.

  “I’m not saying we haven’t done…stuff,” I eventually say after the server leaves.

  They both snap to attention. “What stuff?”

  I wiggle my lips, thinking it over. “Well…I made him tell me in explicit detail exactly what he would do to me if there were no rules. And…it was good.” I briefly tell them about the cabin, not going into too much detail.

  “I just can’t believe that’s all you’ve done,” Rachel says. “Knowing the Mav I know, he should have fucked you senseless right there.”

  “Well he didn’t,” I remind her, feeling slightly annoyed. “Maybe the Mav you know and the Mav I know are different people.”

  “That could be,” Del points out. “You work with Mav. You’re not just some hoochie we went to high school with or some girl passing through town. He respects you. That much I can see. And he likes you too. A lot. So maybe that Maverick is new to everyone.”

  I shake my head, not wanting to get my hopes up. “Who knows.”

  “I just think it’s crazy,” Rachel says. “I mean look at you.”

  “What about me?”

  “Well, you’re flawless for one,” Del points out. “I mean, you’re super model perfect. Tall, thin, with great boobs and butt, and your face…god, if you can’t get the guy you want, what hope in hell do I have?”

  “You’re gorgeous,” I tell her. “You can have anyone you want.”

  “No,” she says, her jaw going firm. “I can’t.”

  “Well neither can I,” I say. “Welcome to the club.”

  “I just think if I had your looks…I guess I’m just too tall. And too athletic. And my teeth are too big.”

  “Oh they are not,” Rachel says to her. “What about me? I’m flat compared to you. You have awesome boobs. And smile. Mine is crooked.”

  “Am I supposed to share my flaws here too?” I ask, my eyes volleying between the two of them. “Because believe me, I have them. Everyone has them. But that’s not what tonight is about, is it?”

  They both look at me with blank expressions.

  “I’m not going to join the pity party and throw myself under the bus so you guys can feel good about yourselves for a second,” I continue. “Because, guess what, it won’t actually make you feel any better. So fuck this sharing of the flaws. Why do women always do this? We should be celebrating our strengths. Let’s stop talking about our cellulite, let’s start talking about how amazing we are.” I pick up my martini glass and raise it in the air. “Here’s to Delilah and her gorgeous smile and Rachel and her stunning eyes and me and my tight, round ass.”

  At that, both of them burst out laughing, barely able to hold up their glasses. But we still manage to cheers.

  I should probably go home, but after the bistro closes Del takes a cab back to her place and Rachel is picked up by Shane. My house is in town so it’s not far to walk from any place really.

  But while I’m heading home, I decide I’m not ready to hibernate in my dark little basement suite. So I keep walking. The weather is doing this weird thing where it finally feels like winter is over again, though Mav and everyone else warns me that there will be one last brutal storm just as we hit April. Still, it’s warm and the snow is almost all melted now. Not in the mountains or even at Ravenswood Ranch, but here in town it’s all slushy and gross, but at least it’s not ice.

  With the balmy night air on my face, I decide to walk to the office. I don’t think anyone will be there, which is good. It will give me time to go over maps and read up on past cases. Just something to make me feel like I’m still learning, that I’m catching up, that I’m not complacent. It’s a tough business to advance in because every single case is different so you’re always using different skills. Every now and then something will catch you off guard, but it isn’t because you’re ill-prepared.

  Anyway, it doesn’t hurt for me to do some extra prep and I figure, in my tipsy state of mind, that it’s better to do it at night since I won’t have weirdos like Neil and Jace watching over me. If it was Tony and Tim that would be great, since I really like them and they genuinely seem to want to teach me the ropes.

  But when I get to the office, I see a light on inside. I haven’t been here at eleven p.m. before, so I’m not sure if the office always has a light on, just in case, like a fucking lighthouse or something like that. Then again, it’s the government and they’d shut down that shit so fast.

  Then I see Maverick’s truck outside and I know he’s inside.

  And I stop. Right there on the street. Because I know, I know, if I go inside that building right now, that small beige square building wit
h vinyl siding, on the corner of Main and Seventh, that I won’t come out of there the same person.

  Something will happen.

  And after everything that’s lead up to this moment, I have to ask myself if that’s what I want.

  But of course it’s what I fucking want. It’s what I’ve wanted from the start.

  I keep walking. I was prepared to use my key, but the door opens when I try the knob.

  It’s empty inside with only a small desk lamp on over Mav’s work station.

  There’s a shuffle from the back, from the room with all our gear.

  I quietly shut the front door behind me and head down the aisle toward it.

  I poke my head around the corner and look in the room, all the backpacks, rope, and gear hanging from hooks on the walls.

  Mav’s broad back is to me. He’s wearing a grey thermal shirt that stretches over his muscles, showing off every hard line. He’s trying to untangle a mess of climbing rope that looks like it would take days. Last time I had that task, I gave up after five minutes, whining in frustration and passing it onto Tim who took the job without a second thought. Patience is not my virtue. In fact, I don’t think I have any virtues at all.

  Except for sexual ones. But in the grand scheme of things, I don’t think they count.

  I debate clearing my throat, giving some kind of sign that I’m standing behind him. It’s weird that I’m overthinking this at all. Who cares?

  But right now, every single thing I do is taking on extra weight. Like it will all have consequences, all mean something.

  So I stand there, and I’m pretty sure Mav knew I was here because he turns around so slowly, and when he sees me he doesn’t seem all that surprised.

  “Hey,” he says.

  “Hey,” I tell him back, leaning casually against the doorframe, even though right now I feel anything but casual. “What are you doing here?”

  “Well I work here,” he says, lifting up the pile of rope. “And apparently no one else does.”

  I take a few steps into the room, trying to saunter casually, acting like my feet aren’t filled with lead. “I hope that’s not my fault. I passed my work off to Tim.”

 

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