by Bijou Hunter
I don’t dominate him like a monster, of course. He comes apart because we’re in love. I desire the real Maverick Majors, too. Not just the handsome, powerful man. I love the little boy who aches to live next to the train tracks or in an old firehouse. My heart warms for the part of him that always knows where Corky is, even if our cat disappears for hours. I adore how he can soothe a child with barely any words. I love every complex part of this complicated man. He’s both patient and tender, yet a coldhearted killer. Every part of him owns my heart.
That’s why watching us together defeats the uglier memories. Seeing his thick cock disappear into my wet pussy is the most beautiful sight. Our moans and sighs drown out the cries of the ghosts I’ll never truly be rid of. But for now, I only see, hear, and feel Maverick.
THE SENTINEL
Lying is probably the only fetish I’ve ever had. I really enjoy fucking with people. I made up a fake girlfriend for absolutely no reason except to screw with the club girls back in Shasta and Ellsberg. I lied about having a place in Branson, Missouri, just because I could. Lying for fun is my one weird thing.
However, I’m sure I’ll get used to Violet’s new mirror obsession.
“Can we have a mirrored ceiling over our bed at the firehouse?” she asks while fondling me in front of the bathroom mirror before we head downstairs for breakfast.
“No.”
“Why?” she asks and licks my nipple.
“I don’t want to wake up to the sight of my morning woody.”
Violet giggles while kneeling and caressing my dick with her soft lips. “I love your morning woody,” she says as her tongue circles the head.
Her gaze finds my face, and she smiles so calmly. The other night feels like years ago. I don’t know what clicked in her head, but I’m relieved she doesn’t want to hunt anymore. Having those fuckers anywhere near Violet always left me fills with a rage I’m uncomfortable with feeling. Losing my temper leaves me kicking myself for weeks afterward. I want to be an impenetrable rock.
Yet, watching those men leer at Violet and knowing what they want to do to her made me crazy. Sure, she got to smack them around, and I always made sure to break something that’d hurt like a motherfucker. But it wasn’t enough. I wanted them dead. I still want them dead. Sometimes, I consider hunting them down and killing them.
Like always, I control myself. Except for moments like these when Violet makes my toes literally curl as she sucks mercilessly at my cock. Sex before her was an outlet, nothing more. I revealed more emotions when I was jacking off than with a woman.
Violet isn’t a woman, though. She’s mine. I own her heart. She never looks at another man in the same way she looks at me. When Violet is afraid, she seeks me out for comfort. When she’s happy, I’m the man she wants to share her joy with. She’s fond of many people, but only two completely own her heart—her adoptive mommy and me.
I wish we could remain in the hotel room all day. Violet fucking shines when she’s in a good mood, and she’s unbelievably bright today. Her gaze is always on me, seeking out every detail of my face and body. She watches me intently while I drink coffee and check my phone in the dining room. Other men might find her staring oppressive. Yet, I love knowing I’m all she can think about. Her heart needs to be filled after too long malnourished, and knowing I’m close by offers her what she craves.
Sometimes, I think back to the day we busted into O’Meara’s house. Violet looked almost comical in her 1950s housewife dress and those ridiculously high heels. I hadn’t come there to save her. Seeing Violet was a relief, but not because I personally cared if she lived or died. I knew how important finding Violet alive meant to Shelby, who was heavily pregnant and emotional as hell. My goal was to make my friend happy by saving this girl and killing the bad guy.
When I think back to that day, I wish I had been different. Violet was terrified, frozen in her spot, only able to squat down in a corner but incapable of running. O’Meara taught Violet to stay in that kitchen no matter what she witnessed or heard in the house. She didn’t know we were the good guys. I remember barking questions at her, wanting to know where my target was, completely oblivious to her fear.
When Violet is her most vulnerable, my heart hurts at how rough I was with her that day. I should have understood her situation, softened my tone to soothe her. But I only wanted to destroy my target and burn down the house. Shane was the one to take the frightened young woman out to the SUV, where Shelby and Taylor waited.
Occasionally, I replay that day in my head, changing details to make me the hero comforting the woman who will eventually win my heart. This mental exercise is ridiculous. I can’t change the past, and lying to myself is pointless. I’m too stubborn to believe my bullshit. That day, I hadn’t cared if Violet was okay. For weeks, I barely noticed her.
Shelby always claims she loved Goliath on some level from the moment she saw him. Shane says the same thing about his woman. Of course, River knew instantly how Max was his to love.
I’m not that guy. My heart doesn’t operate like theirs. I take time to let a person get close. Most of my friends are people I’ve known since I was young. Even the O’Keefe kids and Colton aren’t strangers. With the local Pema guys, though, I’ll take forever to truly care one way or another about their safety.
I’m cold, I guess. Sitting in the dining room at a table near Savannah’s, I think of how her husband opens up to everyone he meets. Bjorn’s nature is friendly and unafraid. If someone mistreats him, he’ll have no protection. I can’t imagine living that way. Of course, Bjorn grew up pampered with a rather boring family and few dangers. However, his twin was raised the same way, yet Bran’s harder. I used to believe Bjorn was the weaker of the two. Now, I realize I had it backward. Living exposed is the braver route.
I can’t do it. But I occasionally wish I was capable of being such a man. Storming into O’Meara’s house, I’d have secured the scared victim before focusing on the bad guy. I’d have comforted the woman I would one day love so much I can’t breathe sometimes. She’d have known from our first minute together how she was the center of my universe.
“Shelby should be here soon,” Violet says, smiling like a child waiting for her mother.
For a moment, I imagine a scenario where Shelby hadn’t smoked out O’Meara, and Violet remained stuck in that hell.
Feeling strange today, I consider a scenario where Shelby didn’t love Violet in the way she loves her people. When O’Meara’s programming began to slip, my woman wouldn’t have arms to hold her tight and keep her above water. Violet might not have survived that first year. I took too long to get close to her. Shelby was the person to keep Violet sane, and I don’t know if I’ve ever truly thanked my friend for giving me the gift sitting across from me now.
Violet studies me again. No doubt, she senses I’ve lost control of my heart. I’m thinking and feeling things I should leave alone. While I reveal nothing to her, she somehow knows I’m the one a little lost today.
“Don’t be scared,” she whispers in my ear after wrapping me in her arms. “I won’t ignore you while Shelby is here. I have enough love for the both of you.”
I smirk at how she offers comfort without asking what is really upsetting me. She knows I won’t tell her. I can’t open up in that way. Not with her or anyone else. Violet no longer needs me to be an open book.
Violet accepts what she sees now is all I can be. I might learn chess or how to speak French or other surface-level changes. But the core of who I am was set long ago. Just like how she can’t be anyone except Violet Navarro, I’m stuck being Maverick Majors.
But that’s the man she loves, and she’s the woman I love. When she stares into my eyes before I leave to work on our home, Violet is calmer than I’ve seen her in a long time. Based on the smile she offers me, being stuck with Maverick Majors is exactly what she needs.
THE CHAPTER WHERE MAMA GIVES HER BLESSING
THE GHOST
Before Maverick and I were an i
tem, I spent most of my waking moments with Shelby, Dean, and baby Kirby. Where they went, I was right there, too. Shelby started referring to me as her daughter. At first, I thought she was silly. We’re not even ten years apart in age. Yet, there she was, introducing this grown woman as her daughter. Most people knew not to ask questions. Shelby is a ball of sexy, fun energy, but she also runs with killers and isn’t above fucking up a bitch.
I learned to trust Shelby’s love. We did mom-and-daughter stuff like beauty days and shopping trips to Lexington. That first Christmas, she put up a stocking with my name on it. For my first birthday free of Husband, Shelby went all out with a cake, balloons, and a party.
In her heart, I’m her grown-up little girl. Kirby and Caen are my little sister and brother. Dean is my dad. That’s how Shelby views the world and hell on earth to anyone who tries to tell her different.
Now, she’s on her way to Pema for her first visit. I want to show her the hotel, the firehouse, where I shop for groceries, and my favorite coffee shop. I want to make Pema real for her in a way that filming myself skating or live streaming a donut run can’t do.
Shelby will be stressed during her first weekend away from the kids. Shelby claims she’s more than ready to cut loose with her hubby.
“My babies won’t even notice we’re gone,” she assured me last night. “And I could use space from the beauties. Yes, we’re ready to go. I even bought sensual oil for Dean and me to try out during our alone time.”
Then, she purred dramatically, which got a chuckle out of her man. Yep, she was totally going to ditch her six-week-old son and not yet two-year-old daughter for this weekend visit. I completely believe that bullshit would happen.
Right around lunch, I open the hotel’s front door to find Kirby in Dean’s big arms while the baby hides in a carrier attached to Shelby.
“They began crying when we were leaving. I guess they weren’t ready,” Shelby says, and Dean smirks at his wife’s lies. “It’ll be fine. The sensual oils idea is still on. We’ll just ditch the kids with you overnight.”
Dean carries their bag inside while Kirby reaches for me. Shelby looks around the hotel and keeps talking.
“It’s too early for full penetration,” she announces, and Dean rolls his eyes at her excessive honesty. “But we can still play, and I might even try to savor his salami.”
“People don’t need to know all that,” he mutters while I share nose snuggles with Kirby.
“It’s how children learn, baby,” Shelby coos while looking around the lobby. “How else will she know anything if I don’t tell her everything?”
Dean sets the suitcase down and takes Caen from the baby carrier. Then, he convinces Kirby to leave my arms. I realize what’s about to happen and smile at him. Once the babies are out of the way, Shelby pulls me into a bear hug and doesn’t let go.
“I’ve missed you so much,” she whispers in my ear.
Holding her against me, I soak in the warmth Shelby Campbell provides. She has a heart built for the most powerful kind of loving.
“Are you happy?” she asks, cupping my face and searching for lies.
“I’m keeping my head well above water.”
“Are the twins bullying you? Should I kick their asses?”
“No. They treat me like their little sister.”
Shelby smiles softly. “You look beautiful. Confident, too. Is Maverick giving you the good loving?”
“Always and often.”
Glancing back at her man, she says, “Dean, high-five Maverick for me.”
“My hands are full of sugar,” he replies while Maverick picks up the suitcase and walks to the elevator.
“You’ll be staying in the Wuthering Heights room.”
“Was the Romeo and Juliet room unavailable?” Shelby asks, snickering.
“Your room is more glamourous than that one,” I explain, walking hand-in-hand with Shelby to the elevator, “but in a tacky way.”
Studying the lobby, she says, “Everything in this place is tacky-as-fuck.”
“It’s clean, though. Kirby can crawl around safely.”
Shelby hugs me to her inside the elevator. “You’re such a good big sis.”
Kirby stops holding on to her father’s beard and points at me. “Sister.”
“She’s talking so much now. She told me to shut up the other day,” Shelby coos at her daughter and then grins at me. “But I didn’t shut up. I won’t be bullied by a baby.”
“Baby,” Kirby says, pointing at Caen asleep in Dean’s left arm.
“See? She’s a chatterbug. Must get it from her daddy.”
Kirby hears Dean mentioned and immediately rests her head on his chest and bats her eyes up at him.
As much as Kirby loves her daddy, the new room proves too interesting. She ditches him and walks around with me. While we check things out, Shelby settles the baby into his traveling crib, and Dean studies the gray day outside.
“What’s the plan?” he asks.
“Tonight, we’ll order in and watch the kids while you enjoy your oils,” Maverick says, refusing to emphasize the final word. “Tomorrow, Avery will watch the kids while we have dinner and drinks with local people.”
“What people?” Dean grumbles, ready to complain about having to be on his best behavior.
“Ellsberg transplants, mainly. Heidi and Gunnar. Colton, of course.”
“Gunnar can’t come,” I clarify as Kirby holds my hand while pointing at things. “Vi is close to delivering, and he doesn’t think she should be out on the town when the baby comes.”
“Good thinking,” Shelby says. “It’s her third baby, meaning it might fall right out of her and onto the floor of a seedy bar. No one wants that.”
I’m in the process of showing Kirby the kitchenette when I notice Maverick hug Shelby. Dean grunts at their affection but then glances at me and shrugs. No one expects Maverick to get mushy. I don’t know what brought on his affection, but Shelby wraps him tighter and soaks in every last drop.
He whispers something to her, and Shelby looks at me. Then, her eyes fill with tears, and she clings tighter to Maverick.
“Violet, can you explore elsewhere with your sister while we gossip about you behind your back?” Shelby asks while wiping her eyes on Maverick’s shirt.
Arguing is pointless. Shelby loves to talk, and I don’t care enough to win. Instead, I take Kirby downstairs to explore the kitchen and dining area before ending up in the lounge, where Io and Pollux stare at a glass’s reflection on the ceiling.
The always friendly Kirby babbles at them, mostly about hotel and daddy and baby and sister. Io reverts to her usual resting bitch face when approached by a child she doesn’t know well. Kirby gets one look at that expression and loses all her confidence.
Plopping on her diapered butt, she lowers her chin to her chest and starts sobbing. Io doesn’t like when people cry, so her little face twists into misery, and she lets out a pained wail. I squat between them, trying to calm their broken hearts. Life isn’t that complicated, but the girls are both centers of mamas’ universes. When anything goes wrong, they have no experience with adjusting to their new, harsher realities.
Pollux embraces Io before tugging her toward the still-whimpering Kirby on the floor. He uses his baby speak and cousin-twin powers to convince Io to console their friend. Through it all, Savannah and Bjorn watch their boy play peacemaker.
Soon, both girls stare at Pollux as if he’s magic.
“Play blocks?” he suggests, and they each take his hand to walk to the toy box.
Though Io is never keen on sharing her cousin, she remains relaxed as they play. I’m unsure how the two will cope with living in separate homes again. Idyllwild is only ten minutes from the firehouse. Yet, these two children have lived a majority of their lives in the same location. When I imagine us all bunking in our different places, my good mood slips a little.
The hotel is tacky, but most of my favorite people are located in one spot. I feel
safe here. My old fears from when I first moved to Pema resurface. I remind myself I learned to live away from Shelby and bond with new people. I’m capable of adapting. No reason to panic. I’m just overwhelmed with having Shelby in my temporary home.
Calming myself, I ignore those nagging voices in my head. They want to drag me down just like the water fought to drown Maria with her little boy. I act as my own savior by blocking out the noise and focusing on the real people in front of me.
Shelby appears at the doorway ten minutes later and instantly hugs me.
“I’ve forgiven Maverick for stealing you away from me,” she whispers against my ear. “He loves you so much that I can’t possibly stay mad at him.”
I smile at Maverick as Shelby leans left and right, snuggling me close until Kirby gets jealous and wants in on the action. We add her to our hugfest before Shelby tries to coax Maverick to join.
“He won’t do it,” Savannah says and wraps her arms around his body. “He’s shy.”
“I should have run when I had the chance,” Maverick tells me.
Taking Savannah’s place, I kiss his jaw and whisper, “She would have chased you.”
“I can hear you,” Shelby says and gets in on my hug with Maverick. “I would like to see more of your new hometown. The firehouse, this hotel, all the good stuff.”
I can’t contain my excitement and begin bouncing. Maverick smiles at my reaction. Though he played everything cool when his parents visited, I can’t hold anything back. I have Shelby, Dean, and the kids here for only three days. I plan to make the most of every minute.
THE SENTINEL
Babysitting overnight reminds me of why I’m in no rush to have kids. Caen wakes up every three hours. Kirby has a bad dream and wants her mom. Their fussing and crying—plus the silence that comes before they fuss and cry—leave me tense.
Violet handles them with ease. When both wake at two a.m., she moves Kirby to bed with me while she feeds Caen a bottle.