Chapter 16

Carys

Taking a slow sip of coffee, I breathe deeply, letting the aroma soothe my soul. The last couple days have been a shit show of epic proportions. First, I got all weird with Maverick and pushed him away. That really set everything else into motion. I firmly believe if I could’ve gotten over myself and my sudden self-preservation, we would’ve ended up in bed and I wouldn’t have been so wound up for everything else that followed.

Frustrated is more like it.

Sexually frustrated.

So, when the toilet overflowed downstairs and Mr. and Mrs. Townsend got locked in their hotel room and the a/c started leaking again on the third floor, it was more than I could handle. On top of everything else, I burnt a batch of macarons. It was like I couldn’t do anything right. To make matters worse, I hadn’t had much sleep. After George used a crowbar to break open the jammed door, I called Pete to take care of the rest. Mary sent me home, which is kind of funny, seeing I’m the boss, but that’s how we roll around here.

Thankfully, I feel better this morning. I took over for Jules at five, checked out a handful of guests just before eight, and I’ve been holed up in the office ever since trying to make heads or tails of the stack of papers covering the desk.

We have five reservations for today, everyone checking in around three. Since it’s only Thursday, that leaves me hopeful for the weekend. We should start seeing an increase in traffic as summer approaches. Although, I don’t know why. People should really get a clue and visit New Orleans when they can walk around without melting.

It’s hotter than two squirrels fucking in a wool sock today.

Speaking of hot, I haven’t seen Maverick today, and that’s bothering me. I even went as far as checking the guest log, just to make sure he didn’t check-out yesterday without me knowing. Not that I think he’d leave without saying goodbye, but after how weird I got the other day, I wouldn’t blame him. However, I do know he now has a job to do while he’s here, and I have to admit, I’m kind of happy about that. No, really happy about that. I like that he has a reason to stay. Well, more of a reason. I’d like to hope that I haven’t fucked things up too badly and part of the reason he wants to stay is me, but that might be giving this attraction I feel a bit too much credit.

Maybe it’s not like that for him?

Maybe he’s more of an adult than I am and he sees this for what it is: two people who find each other attractive and have needs?

I’m trying to be mature about this.

I can be.

The bell on the counter ringing practically makes me jump out of my chair and piss my pants. I was so far into my thoughts I kind of forgot where I was. Tidying the papers in front of me, I stand up and walk to the front.

“Hey.” My greeting sounds dreamy and girly and swoony, so I clear my throat and try again. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Maverick nods his chin in my direction and takes the shades he’s wearing and places them on top of his head.

Shit.

The action makes my mouth water—the sight of him is an oasis in the desert—but maybe he should’ve left the sunglasses on because he’s now unleashing the full force of his gaze on me, and I don’t think I was ready for that level of sex appeal. I thought I was, but now, not so much.

It’s like the first day all over again—butterflies, nerves, and feeling flustered.

“How...how are you today?” I stutter, but quickly recover, trying not to fidget.

This is fine.

He’s Maverick.

I’m Carys.

We’re fine.

“Good,” he replies, slow and steady. Deep. His tone is deep, like his gaze. Unapologetically, he lets his eyes roam my body, at least what he can see from where I’m standing behind the counter. “You?”

“Good.” I nod my head several times, trying to decide where to take this conversation. “Enjoying your day?”

“Uh, yeah.” He looks back toward the door and then back at me. “Are we okay?”

My eyes freeze on his as I try to determine what he’s thinking...feeling. “Yeah.”

“After the other day, I wasn’t sure if I said or did—”

“No,” I say fervently. “That was me. I just...” I pause, searching for the right thing to say that won’t make me sound like an immature idiot. I think I like you—like really like you—and that freaked me out. Sorry, can we kiss again and make up?

“It’s cool,” Maverick says, saving me from myself. “I just wanted to make sure I didn’t do anything to piss you off.” Honest, open. I think it might be one of the things I love the most about him.

Like.

Like the most about him.

Feeling my cheeks heat up, I avert my gaze. Thankful he can’t read my thoughts, I try again for comfortable, safe conversation. “What have you been up to? I didn’t see you yesterday.”

“I had some work to do, so I went over to Neutral Grounds. CeCe has great coffee and Wi-Fi.” He smiles and it’s innocent and unapologetic, but his admission makes the jealousy I felt the other night spike.

“Oh, so you and CeCe—”

“Met,” he says, cutting me off abruptly. “She speaks highly of you.”

I’m able to give him a genuine smile in return. CeCe is probably my closest friend, outside of the hotel. She understands where I come from and she just gets me.

“You mentioned her the other night.”

“Thanks for that, by the way...helping me upstairs and taking care of me. I don’t think anyone has put water on my bedside table since I was ten.”

The scruff on his chin is perfect, accentuating his sharp jawline, and I’m mesmerized by the way his mouth moves when he speaks. It’s weird, but I actually missed him yesterday. How is that possible? I just met him. He’s a temporary fixture. I can’t miss him.

“You said she’s pretty.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. My cheeks flame as his smile grows.

“Why, Carys Matthews...” He pauses, cocking his head to one side. “Are you...jealous?” It’s nothing more than a whisper as he leans into the counter, bringing himself closer to me, close enough I can smell him. The same thing I picked up on the first night we met—oak, spice, sweet. It’s a lethal combination when paired with those sapphire eyes and perfect mouth.

Snapping out of it, I cough. It’s fake, but it works as a nice cover while I process what he’s just accused me of and clear my head of the seduction that is Maverick Kensington.

“What?”

“Jealous.”

“Me?” I ask, going for denial, but landing somewhere between liar and guilty-as-charged. “CeCe is my good friend. If you like her...and think she’s pretty, that’s cool.”

When he lowers his lids, I swear he rolls his eyes at me, but quickly covers it with a smirk...and then swipes his tongue along his bottom lip before taking it between his teeth. Those damn perfect white teeth. “You think I like CeCe?” There’s that tone again—honey rolled in gravel—rendering me useless...a complete waste of space.

“Uh...I just,” I start to reply and fail. Swallowing hard, I try again, “You said she was pretty and then you’ve been over there a few times.” When he turns the full force of his gaze on me again, I feel like it’s burning through my skin. I wouldn’t be shocked if I looked down and my clothes were singed off my body.

“Well, I think you’re pretty and I come here every day.”

“You stay here.”

“Because I want to.”

“So, you like me?” The question tumbles out of my mouth and hangs between us for a second. I struggle to hide my smile, not knowing where the heck that came from. Normally, I wouldn’t be so forward, but Maverick definitely brings out things in me I didn’t know existed.

His honesty evokes honesty.

He doesn’t reply, just nods—evil, sexy smile still in place.

“Wanna make out later?” I ask, forgetting myself as I remember the feel of his lips on mine and immediately turning into a hot mess. Shifting on my feet, I squeeze my legs together to relieve the heat and ache, fueled by the look Maverick is still giving me.

Now he’s the one fighting a smile. Shaking his head, he steps away from the counter, walks around, looks both ways and pushes me into the office. His large hands come up to cup my face and his lips are on mine before I hear the door shut behind him. Breathless, intoxicated, out of my mind, out of my body—those are things I feel when Maverick is in my space.

When we’re kissing, it takes me to another dimension, somewhere else entirely. The way his lips devour mine—fast and furious and then slow and intentional—it makes my head spin.

Eventually, my shock subsides and I’m kissing him back.

My hands are fisted in the front of his shirt, pulling him to me, trying to get as close as possible.

My leg hitches around his waist, causing him to chuckle, but he doesn’t let me go.

I want him.

I want more of him to touch more of me.

“Sorry,” Maverick mutters, removing his lips from mine but staying close enough our noses are touching as he breathes deeply. It’s rough and desperate, exactly how I’m feeling.

“Don’t apologize.” There’s no going back this time. No chickening out. No head getting the better of my heart. I’m all in.

“I’m only sorry because I can’t finish what I started.”

“Why not?”

“Oh, maybe because it’s the middle of the day and you’re technically at work.” His tone is sexy and delicious, making his excuse sound a lot more provocative than it should.

Why an excuse? Why can’t we have sex right here, right now?

“Nobody’s here...they won’t know.”

Maverick takes this opportunity to pull back far enough to see my face. “Oh, mess, they’ll know. I already told you, when I finally get you...under me...on top of me...I’m going to need to take my time and everyone within earshot will know.”

My eyes grow wide at his promise, and it only spurs me on to want him...now.

The bell at the front desk scares the shit out of me for the second time today, and this time, I actually let out a small squeal. Covering my mouth, I hide my laugh.

“Fuck, you’re cute.” He kisses my nose, stepping back to straighten my shirt, even giving my hair a once-over, brushing a stray strand behind my ear, before opening the door. He hides behind it and smiles sinfully, motioning for me to leave the office.

I do. And I put on the best acting performance of my life as I check in two new guests.