Maverick (The Family Simon 3)

“What’s that all about?” he asked, tossing the takeout containers into the garbage while she wiped down the kitchen table. Connor was listening, or maybe he wasn’t—Maverick was having a hard time figuring the kid out.

She leaned against the counter a few inches from him, those eyes contemplative as she gazed up at him. She was above average in height for a woman—Maverick pegged her at about five foot eight—but he clocked in at six-three, so he still had several inches on her.

“It’s an annual run held between our town and a few of the other coastal towns. It started about ten years ago after a wicked blizzard and we all had to band together and run supplies from town to town. The only way to get around was on skidoos, and a year later we just sort of did a sled run in remembrance and then it became a thing.”

“Explain this thing.”

“This year it starts in Fisherman’s Landing. All businesses are closed and we host a pancake breakfast at the community center. Folks from the other towns will be here and then we ride to the next one for lunch, then onto the last town who’ll host the fish fry and party. I think they’ve booked a band or something.”

He inched toward her. “And do you take part in this thing?”

“I do.” She glanced at her brother. “I haven’t done the run in a couple years, but I’m hoping that Connor will want to go this year. I think he’s nearly there…” She paused. “Connor, time for pajamas and if you hurry and brush your teeth, you can watch TV for half an hour or so before bed.”

Maverick watched the kid slide off his chair and grab his iPad before heading off to do his sister’s bidding.

“You’re probably wondering why he is the way he is.”

Maverick wasn’t sure what to say and decided that honesty was the only way to go. “He seems like a real quiet kid and this might sound kind of weird and I don’t want to offend you, but does he talk? I can see he understands you but I don’t think I’ve heard him speak.”

She kicked at the floor with her foot. “He used to talk a lot,” she said softly. “It used to annoy the hell out of me. He was a chatterbox. Now I’m lucky if I can get one or two sentences out of him a day. He’s kind of retreated into himself and he’s slowly getting better but…it’s a long story.”

“Maybe you’ll tell me sometime.”

She glanced up at him and it took everything inside Maverick not to bend forward and plant a kiss on that delectable mouth.

“Are you a musician?” she asked.

Surprised at the change in conversation, he nodded and answered without thinking. “Yeah, I am.”

“Would you consider letting me bring Connor out for maybe a lesson? Or at least spend some time with him to see if it’s something he’s interested in?”

He found himself nodding, loving the smile that was slowly breaking open on her face. “I think I can find some time for that, on one condition.”

“What’s that?” she asked, that smoky voice of hers making his blood boil.

“You take me on the sled run this weekend.”

“Anyone can go on the sled run, Rick. It’s not like an invite thing.”

“Good. It’s a date.”

She laughed, that full-on belly laugh that he was learning to love. “So now we’re dating.”

“Looks like.” Before she could slip away, he tipped his head, his hand sliding up her jaw until he buried his long fingers in the hair at her nape. Maverick slid his mouth over hers, groaning into her when she opened up and took him in. He kissed her slowly, enjoying her soft lips, the smell of her hair, and the feel of her heat against him.

When he finally came up for air, he had to take a step back because, man, his dick was already saying hello and there was no way that was happening tonight. He wanted to take this slow.

I want to know her.

Maybe that should have been the first sign that he was travelling down a road he’d not been on before. But Maverick ignored the thought. Instead he focused on the light blue eyes before him, and he swept away a long piece of hair from her forehead.

“Who are you?” she whispered.

“The name’s Rick.”

“I got that,” she said with a soft smile. “Rick, the man with no last name.”

“I’ve got one.”