“We’ve got it covered. Phoenix pulled this shit together like a boss.”
“Yeah, he did,” Mav said. “Catch you tomorrow.”
“Wait. Mav?”
“Yeah?” he asked.
“Don’t you dare blame yourself for this.” Dare’s voice was gruff, stern, and Maverick could easily imagine the expression that went with it. He’d seen it on his cousin’s face a million times. “I know Alexa’s situation is probably screwing with your head given what Bunny went through, but this isn’t your fault. Wasn’t then and it isn’t now.”
But Maverick couldn’t get there. Not yet. Not when Alexa wore fresh bruises he might’ve prevented. “I hear ya, D.” They hung up. Maverick stood there for a long moment, his ears latching onto the sound of the running water once more. Was it just him being an anxious, impatient fucker or had Alexa been in there a long damn time?
Something in his gut twisted, pushing him in the direction of a long damn time.
He made for the bathroom. Knocked. No answer. Knocked again.
His gut went on a free fall.
Maverick opened the bathroom door. Steam hung thick in the air. “Alexa, you okay?”
And that was when he heard it. Crying.
The sound lashed at him and lanced urgency through his blood. He was at the tub’s edge in an instant and pulled back the curtain. Seeing her in a tight ball on the floor nearly broke his fucking heart.
In a flash, Maverick turned off the water, grabbed a towel, and draped it around her shoulders. “Come here, baby.” He slid his arms under her knees and around her back.
Crying harder, Alexa wound her arms around his neck, making it easier for him to lift her from the tub. “Maverick,” she cried, her wet face burrowed into his neck.
“I got you. Don’t you worry about a thing.”
Water ran from her hair and body, soaking into his shirt and dripping down his arms, but he didn’t care. He turned out of the bathroom and carried her down the hall, past the guest bedroom to his own room. Because fuck the guest bedroom. If the two of them were going to make a run at doing this thing again, they were doing it in his bed. Their bed, now.
Alexa wasn’t a guest to him. She would never be a guest to him. Because this house was where she belonged—and always had. They’d both just gotten lost for a while. But that was all fucking over.
In his room, Maverick settled her on the edge of the bed and pulled back the covers. He kicked off his boots and shrugged off his cut, then settled his gun on the nightstand. “Climb in, Al.”
Her breath hitching, she squeezed at the length of her hair with the towel. “But I’m wet.”
“You’re perfect. Climb in.”
She moved to the center and slipped her pretty, long legs under the covers. Masculine satisfaction roared through him at seeing her there, but he had to rein that shit in. Hard. After what’d happened to her today, he wasn’t touching her until she indicated that she was ready. Anyway, despite his hard-on, what he needed more than anything was to help Alexa feel safe. Fuck, he needed that more than his next breath. To protect her, to comfort her, to be her shelter in the storm.
Maverick stretched out and pulled her in tight against the side of his body.
Meow.
He looked to the doorway to find Lucy standing there, eyeballing them in her skull sweater.
“Come on, Luce,” he said. “Your mama needs us.”
The cat padded across the room, hesitated at the side of the bed, then jumped up. She sniffed and stepped, sniffed and stepped, until she stood on his stomach within reach of Alexa’s petting hand. And then Lucy curled up on his belly and fell asleep while Alexa stroked her ears.
And Christ, it was probably stupid, but protectiveness roared through Maverick like a demon. Because this felt like his little family. His woman. Their weird-ass cat. Their house.
“Fall asleep if you want to,” Maverick said, running his fingers through the loose waves of her damp hair. “I’ll wake you up every so often to make sure your head’s okay.”
“I don’t know if I can sleep.”
“You can.”
She shook her head in a small movement that was just barely perceptible. “I’m afraid.”
Her words were like getting sucker punched in the heart. “Don’t be,” he managed. “Slater’s in jail. I’ve got my gun sitting right here. Nothing’s going to hurt you, Alexa, I promise.”
“You’ll stay awake . . .”
He heard what she didn’t say. You’ll stay awake just to be sure?
“I’ll stay awake. You sleep. I’ll keep you safe. Count on it.”
She drifted off in maybe five seconds, and that had satisfaction roaring through him, too. She was scared, she felt vulnerable, and yet his words and his body had given her the security she needed to let go. The trust and belief that represented staggered him. Just nearly knocked him stupid.