Don't move. I prayed for Echo to stay curled up on the couch so nothing would break this moment. One thing, one ring of the phone, one yap from the puppy, and Maverick would move on to something else. I had him right here and I wanted him to say yes. Yes, to giving me a piece of him. Even if it was surface Maverick and not the depths of himself.

I wanted it. I wanted him so badly.

My instinct told me this was the guy. He would pleasure me the way I needed. He would do things to me that I’d only read about in the Delta Motorcycle Club Series. And he would do them five times over.

“Just sex?” His eyebrow rose in that endearing way of his. His mouth twitched up into a smile and my already damp panties became soaked as his eyes roamed over my body. How could I be so attracted to someone who was so opposite of what I’d originally found attractive? His unbuttoned jeans, his massive bulge beneath his boxer shorts and the way he had his arms folded across his chest, he looked ready to take on the world, and that confidence was so attractive.

“Just sex. Or whatever else. Short-term. We both know the rules. It can end in a few weeks and we can avoid the entire issue of my brother. Pretend like we're not doing anything. After a few weeks, no one has to know anything.”

“That’s it? You’re fine with me doing what I did to Tiffany with you? Fucking you and sending you home? You want me to treat you like I treat them?”

Them? “Well, no…not exactly,” I stammered, “not if you treat them mean-”

“Gracie, this is what I'm talking about. You're too damn good. You can't do this. Have you ever had a one-night stand?”

“Eww. No. I'm not going to sleep with someone I don't know.”

“You don't know me.”

“I do some. I know you like to work on motorcycles, although I don't understand why. I know you have to have the radio on rock when you’re out there working. I know Toys for Tots has a special place in your heart. I know you care about my brother. I know the difference between your look of triumph and your look of arousal-”

“What?”

“It's true. When you think all I do is come over and chatter non-stop to you and you think I'm not paying attention, I am. I can see when you're working on that bike, like the other day when you kept messing with those wire thingies and got the lights working, the way your eyes lit up and the creases along your forehead disappeared. The way you look at me sometimes, like outside. I can feel your fire. I can see the torment in your eyes—how you want to touch me again but think you shouldn’t. I may not know everything about you, but I know you.”

“So fucking me a few times you're okay with?”

“You intrigue me, what can I say?” I’d never begged for anything in my life. I practically felt like I should add a please in there to soften him up. What was I thinking? Did I know what I was getting myself into?

I was a terrible liar. What would I do if my brother asked me about him? Could I cover? Could I look the one family member who’s been there for me for everything since I was a baby, directly in the eye and lie to him if he asked me if I slept with his best friend?

“Having doubts, Princess?”

My lady parts twitched in response to the rumble of his voice. His bottomless whiskey-tinted eyes seared through me, watching, waiting. As if I were his prey and he was considering when he should pounce.

“No second thoughts. You're either in or you’re out. I'm not asking again,” I said.

“Now who’s being the boss?” he chided.

“Is that a yes or a no, Maverick?”

His eyes darkened and my heart flew into orbit, I got him!

“Fuck yes,” he said in a husky voice.

“Thank you. I’m glad that’s settled. I have go. I need to bake a cake or something to take to Thatcher’s tonight.”

“All that and you have to go?” he asked in surprise.

“I have to go. I can’t be late to Thatcher’s.”

He grunted and I laughed.

Once I gathered up Echo, I turned back to him, “I don't know where to begin with you, Maverick, so I might need a push in the right direction.”

When I got to my brother’s I was surprised to see Mabel there. She was wearing another nice dress that she usually only reserved for my father’s dinner parties. She sat next to Harold Coleman, a man who was probably Mabel’s age and I guessed, was here with her.

Mabel dated? Was this why she had been looking so kept up when I saw her at my parents?

“Mabel,” I came around and hugged her. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Hi. I’m Grace.” I held out my hand to Harold, whom I’d never met face to face.

“Grace, this is Harold. He’s a good friend of mine.”

“Hello, young lady. Mabel is always going on about the wonderful baking you do. Congratulations on winning the pie auction.”

I beamed, delighted that Mabel, a master cook and baker in her own right, was pleased enough with my baking skills that she had told him. Winning the auction was all over town at this point so I wasn’t surprised he knew.

“Thanks, Mabel. Though she is quite a cook herself.”

“Oh, child. I’ve had years of experience. Your apple pie tastes like you’ve had years and years of practice.”

I squeezed Mabel’s hand and as I walked away from the couple, noticing another group of men off to the side. Two of them hadn’t the decency to look away, staring at my chest like I was an alien. I peeked a glance down and it dawned on me that my top I’d changed into feeling more confident after what happened at Maverick’s, showed much more cleavage than I normally showed.

My confidence dimmed at their bulging eyes. What had I been thinking? I turned away from them immediately wishing I’d brought a cover up.

While I'd gone home and baked some apple turnovers and peach-filled miniature pies, showered and was at my brother’s house promptly at five, Maverick hadn't shown up yet.

I was still secretly hoping he would show up at some point as I sat there pretending to be oblivious to the group of men who kept staring at me. When the sound of his motorcycle echoed through the backyard, my heart beat loudly in my chest. It was all I could do not to jump up and greet him. How did one even act in our situation? Did I pretend I hardly knew him? Flirt with him? Ignore him completely? I ran my fingers along the saltless rim of my margarita glass wondering what I should say or do when the man in question slid the screen door open and walked out carrying a six-pack of beer.

Why did my heart have to flutter? I don't think he owned anything besides black t-shirts and seeing him in one wasn't something to write home about. Shouldn't be anyway. But when our eyes locked and my name rolled off his mouth in greeting, my damn heart heated my chest, sending a fireball straight down into my belly where it threatened to heat the apex of my thighs.

“Maverick. Good evening.”

Echo ran up to him and jumped at his legs. Poor dog still hadn't gotten the memo. Surprising me, he bent down and gave a slight ruffle to the top of her head and that flutter of mine went straight into a heart attack with the way he acknowledged her.

“That’s Echo,” Thayer, my nephew, told Maverick. “Isn't she sweet? Her and Spider-Man get along great.”

“Is that so, Little Man?”

“Yeah, she even eats his lettuce.”

I laughed, “I don't think you should let Echo eat any more of your turtle’s dinner. Save that for him.”

“Fine,” he grumbled. “Will you play Hide and Seek with me?”

“Of course. But let's wait until it gets dark? It's much more fun to play in the dark.” I glanced at Maverick and his eyes flickered in the light of the Tiki torches. Did he just smirk?

“Cap, bout time you showed up.” Thatcher, who’d been talking to Lorna, his mother in law, stepped toward us and clasped Maverick’s hand.

“Thought I was going to be here earlier but something came up.”

“You go see your dad?”

What? I didn't realize Maverick spoke to his imprisoned father. I don't know why I would. It's not like he told me much. It was still a surprise. I tried not to let the news bother me as I sipped my margarita, listening even more intently on the conversation while pretending not to.

“Nah, had business to deal with at Lazy Dogs.”

My brother laughed, “Tiffany kind of business?”

Maverick’s gaze locked on mine because I couldn’t help but look when I heard that. “No, not that kind of business. Looking at doing a few upgrades to the place and Hoop asked me to follow him out.”

“I don't understand. Why would you do upgrades there?” I asked.

“Because he owns it, Grace. You didn't know that?”

“I had no idea.” Maybe Maverick was right. I didn't know him all that well, did I? Maybe it was my wishful thinking, but at least he looked at me when my brother asked about Tiffany – like he wanted me to know that he wasn't there for her. Could it be possible that he cared enough to spare my feelings about her?

“Gotta keep up on the news, sister. If you’d pull your head out of one of those books long enough, you might learn a few things.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, rolling my eyes.

Maverick set his six-pack on the wooden picnic table amidst all the food and condiments and twisted off the cap to one of his beers. He licked his lips before taking a healthy swallow from the bottle and I looked away. I swear he moved, I followed. Could I be any more like Pavlov’s dogs?

“Did your uncle mention where to find her?”

My ears perked up again as I pretended to watch Thayer run around the yard with Echo. Abby stood next to Miranda, Lone Star’s reporter, and while I was waiting for Maverick to respond, it annoyed me that I could hear their laughter all the way over here. Keep it down, ladies, in case I miss something.

Maverick plucked a chip from one of the bowls that sat on the table and shoved it into his mouth. “Haven't asked yet.”

“You going to?”

More potato chips. Another swig of beer. Answer! I wanted to scream. Instead I sipped my margarita and waited quietly.

“I don't fucking know, man. We’ll see.”

That was the end of the conversation but I couldn't help wonder who was ‘she’ that Maverick was looking for. This clearly wasn't a new development since Thatcher seemed to know a thing or two. It wasn't Tiffany, I gathered that much. His mom, maybe. But why? Why didn't he say anything to me? Why would he? Why was I hurt that he hadn’t?

“Grace! These are amazing. They’re so good.”

Lorna settled up next to me on one of the Adirondack chairs. I sat too, slightly unsure what to do with myself. I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to talk to Maverick like I'd been for the past two weeks. But I knew that would only make my brother suspicious and possibly everyone else. Miranda was a reporter after all. I suspect she could smell gossip miles away.

“Thanks. Do you bake?”

“Oh heavens, no. Not since I was married. Cookies with Thayer every now and then but there’s no one to bake for besides myself and Lord knows I don't need extra cushion on my hips.”

“You look amazing, Lorna.”

“How come you didn't bring a date with you tonight? I saw you last week at the gas station after school let out talking to Sam Polinksi’s son. He’s a fine young man.”

My gaze cut to Maverick who was sitting on one side of the picnic table eating the brisket Thatcher had smoked. His paper plate was filled with two sandwiches, watermelon and two of my apple turnovers as well as two of my peach pies. He didn’t appear to be paying much attention to my conversation with Lorna.

“Joel? Yes, he’s nice but he’s just a friend. I'm not dating anyone and I'm not looking. I'm used to being alone so it's no big deal.”

“Did you use fresh peaches for these?” she asked, changing the awkward conversation.

“Canned.”

Seemingly satisfied with that, Lorna stood and went inside and I finished the rest of my margarita all the while pretending not to watch Maverick dig into my dessert. I watched him devour the peaches, licking his index finger once he was finished, happy that even though he may not say, he had enjoyed the dessert I’d made.

As much as I wanted to throw caution to the wind, I didn't know what my next move should be. I wanted him badly. The thrill of knowing he was older and more mature stuck with me, making it hard to imagine anything else. How he would touch me with those working hands of his. Where. What kind of lover would he be like? Always rough around the edges, following through on his promise to leave hickies on my clit? Or a combination of both rough and gentle?

In the Delta Motorcycle Club books I’d read, the guys were always in control. Knew what they wanted and took it. There were things that I couldn't believe the authors wrote about and I imagined that was how it was in real life. Like calling their girlfriends ‘old ladies’ or bitches and telling them not so nicely to go down on them. Eww. I didn't do that and I wasn't up for mean talk.

He was…rough sometimes. Not overly helpful but wasn't ever mean to me either. Rude, yes. I was counting on that and the fact that he knew I wasn't completely experienced with sex like he was that he would take it easy on me. If he would follow through with our arrangement.

When.

“What's got you in la la land?” Maverick’s voice was a gentle caress in the light summer breeze. Nights were still cool this time of year, but give it another two weeks and the temps would hardly drop below eighty.

I shivered.

“Just thinking,” I answered truthfully.

“About our agreement? You backing out?”

I looked around us to see who might overhear. Thatcher and Abby were throwing a football in the yard to Thayer and a kid that he attended school with. Miranda and Ryan, her significant other, and a friend of Thatcher’s sat at the edge of his patio talking to Lorna and a few other men that Ryan worked with. I knew there were a few more people inside so I kept my voice down.

“I'm not backing out. Are you?” I steeled myself for his response. Scared he would say yes and yet not brave enough to take matters into my own hands if he did.

“Not a fucking chance, Grace. Nice top you’re wearing.” When his gaze dropped to my chest, my breath hitched and heat simmered between us.

“Thank you. So, we’re in this together? Keeping a secret from everyone, especially my brother?”

He let out a sigh and took a drink from his beer, “Looks that way to me. This is only temporary, Gracie. Best if you remember that.”

“Serve you right to remember that. You might get a whole lot more than you bargained for.”

I walked away from Maverick with the last word as I held back my grin. I was electric, tingles jolted the tops of my fingers, curled my toes and sent feeling all the way to my nipples. I didn't know when something would happen but I was addicted to the knowledge that it would. I was giddy with excitement.

“I asked Thatcher to invite your parents but he wouldn't hear any of it.” Abby said when I sidled up next to her.

“I can't say I blame him. They aren't winning Parent of the Year award any time soon.”

“No,” Abby said, “but it would be a nice time for them to get to know Thayer and all. Especially if we can ever get pregnant again. We’ve been trying and trying for months.”

“Really? I’m sorry. He didn’t say anything. It’ll happen, Abby. I promise. Thayer seems happy though being an only child. He seems content not having a strong relationship with his grandparents. My parents have a way of taking all the happiness and excitement out of people.”

“I thought you and your mom were close?” she asked.

“When she needs something, we are.” I shrugged, “Decorate for one of their parties or bake for some impromptu event she decides to host at the last minute. But when I need her, poof, she’s never there.”

“I’m sorry, Grace.” Abby reached out and hugged me quickly. She was much shorter than me but her hug was tight, comforting. I could see what my brother saw in her. Kindness, honesty, loyalty. She was a great mom to Thayer. Had a relationship with her mom that was an equal give and take. They loved one another and it was shown to the world in little ways. I didn't have that with my mom. With anyone.

“It's okay, Abby. I'm used to it.”

“I'm sure you are. Doesn't make it okay. Or easy.”

“Thanks for inviting me over. I've had a great time. The food was outstanding,” I said.

“Thanks so much. Thatcher told me he found you at Cap’s. Made him see stars.”

“It was no big deal. I wish he would lay off me! I'm not a child anymore.”

Abby’s eyes grew wide, “No, you certainly aren't. He can't help it. You’re his little sister. He wants the best for you.”

“I know, but he has to let me live my life. He can't decide who I go out with, Abby.”

“Oh my word, girl! Are you saying you’re into Cap?” she asked.

I risked a glance over to where Maverick was standing next to my brother and Ryan and Miranda. He was facing me, beer to his lips. The do-rag on his head made him stand out from the crowd. His light-colored denim jeans were frayed along his knees. Even from here, his sexual prowess rolled off him in waves. Dear God, he was…bad. Bad for me. Lava flowed inside me, through the tips of my fingers and along my wrists. Across my chest and stomach, pulling low in my belly.

I was so into Maverick it wasn't even funny.

“No. Not really. I mean he’s cute and all…but, he’s not my type.”

“If ever there were a type! I swear Grace, you get my age and ‘types’ don't matter. Can't place where it gets lost but there comes a moment when none of that matters. Not age or social status. Definitely not who comes from where or what background. Just because Cap rides a motorcycle, doesn't make him any different than you,”

“It’s more than the motorcycle. He’s older. More mature. His dad is in prison.” Even as I said that, I could hear the judgement in my voice. “Which doesn't even matter, in all honesty. I'm not attracted to Maverick. And he isn’t attracted to me. Let's pretend this conversation didn't even happen. Please.”

“I'm not going to meddle in your business now. I just couldn't help notice the way he’s been looking at you all night. Even though he’s unconventional, Cap’s reputation precedes him.”

“In what way? A troublemaker?”

“Oh goodness, no! With the ladies, Grace. Think about it. He is downright sexy, don't you think?”

Downright sexy? As if by some cosmic force, he turned to me. Even this far away, his gaze rooted me in place, searing me with his own dose of erotica. My clit begged for those hickies.

Oh. My. God.

Downright sexy was an understatement.

When Abby nudged me playfully in the arm, heat seeped through my blouse and I couldn't help but laugh.

“It's time for me to go. I have a good book and a bath waiting for me at my apartment. It was so good to see you.”

After saying my goodbyes to everyone, making a point to promise Thayer I would play Hide and Seek the next time, I scooped up Echo and we made our way home. Home being Maverick’s house in order to drop her off.

“Come on baby girl. Can you go potty?” I asked as we stood in front of his house. “Come on little girl. It's going to be a long night.”

A long night indeed. For the both of us. His house was obviously quiet since I’d left him at the barbeque, but a small part of me had hoped he would leave when I did. Standing there now, I found a part of me, okay most of me, straining to hear his motorcycle.

But the rumbles never came.

I put Echo into her crate and lingered in the doorway where he’d kissed me earlier. I’d never been kissed that way before. With so much passion and desire that I was consumed by it. I could still feel the bite of his fingers digging into my waist as he ravished my mouth with his.

Outside, I still yearned to hear his roaring motorcycle. A sound I’d found rather obnoxious but was beginning to look forward to what it brought when it was near. It was strange how attraction toward someone could make things more acceptable, less annoying.

Alone at home, in my bath, my boobs floated along my sides as the heat seeped into my skin faintly easing the constant pain in my back. I was disappointed that Maverick never showed up. Not at his house while I was there and of course not here.

I went to bed disappointed that the rumble of his motorcycle never came.