Maverick (The Family Simon 3)

Lord knows that she was.

“Sure thing.”

He grabbed her a cold beer and brought out all the fixings they needed for fajitas.

“You did this?” she asked, walking over to inspect the peppers and tomatoes, the cheese and lettuce.

“Hey, I’m not just another pretty face,” he replied with a grin. “I like to cook and I like Mexican.” He winked and she was flooded with warmth. “And I like you. All in all, that’s a good night in my books.”

He held his beer up in a toast, and with her brother happily banging away at the keyboard behind her, Charlie settled back onto the sofa and watched Rick sear the beef and chicken. He hummed a tune while he worked, his handsome face a work of concentration as he prepared their meal, and she thought that maybe he had some pipes as well.

“Do you sing?” she asked suddenly, sitting on the edge of the sofa, watching him intently.

He looked surprised and took another drink from his beer bottle before answering. “I do.”

She glanced down at the papers again. They were full of jotted notes, what seemed to be lyrics. Again she glanced around the room—at the musical instruments, the guitars and keys and even a fiddle?

“So you sing and write songs? Is that what you do for living?”

“I’ve been known to sing now and again.” He tossed the meat into a container and set it on the bar top. “Though I mainly score music for movies, but it’s something I don’t do as much as I used to.”

“Wow.” She got to her feet and walked over to him. “That sounds impressive.”

He smiled. “It’s not really. I’ve gotten away from doing big projects and the last two films that I worked on were documentaries.”

“How did you…I mean, how did you get involved with that?”

“I’ve always been fascinated by film and when I was younger, I thought that I’d be the next Spielberg or Scorsese, but it didn’t work out.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

“When I was fifteen I figured out real quick that girls liked boys with guitars much more than they did a dude with camera. So for a horny teenager it was an easy choice.”

She laughed. “Sounds pretty typical.” She popped a tomato into her mouth. “So where does the singing come in? Have you ever had a song on the radio?” She was being cheeky, but something in his eyes shifted and he was suddenly serious.

“I have, actually.”

“Oh.” Wow. He really was full of secrets. “Anything rece

nt?” she asked, reaching for another tomato.

“I had something on the go last year.”

“Would I have heard it?”

“Maybe.” He set the bowl of garnishments on the table. “Do you like country music?”

She made a face. “No. I’m more of a classic rock kind of girl.”

He grinned. “Hey, I like all kinds of music.”

“Maybe you could sing your song for me later.”

Rick walked toward her, like a predator after prey and Charlie’s heart took off like a rocket.

“Maybe I will,” he said gruffly, bending over to plant one hell of a kiss on her mouth. “If you’re lucky.”

“What do you mean, if I’m lucky?”