“I am,” I say, sliding past him toward the bathroom. “I’m just going to clean up a little first.”
When I’m safely tucked into the small bathroom, I change out of my clothes and into one of my own t-shirts. Just passing by him in the hallway was enough to suck in his manly scent. I don’t need his clothes all over me too. I’m way too emotional for any strange sex feelings… and definitely too desperate. It’s been eons since I’ve been with anyone sexually, and something about Maverick could definitely wake that up if I let him.
If I let him…which I’m not going to. He’s stubborn, macho, and thinks he knows everything. We couldn’t work together for twenty minutes on the mountain before he was barking orders, and I refused to take them.
After splashing cool water on my face and pulling back my hair, I make my way back to the bedroom, trying not to make eye contact with Maverick, but within seconds I’ve failed. The room is dark except for the moonlight coming through the window, illuminating Maverick as he sits up in bed, his shirt off, every rippling, hard muscle staring back at me like a piece of art with dark ink down his arms and onto his chest.
“Feeling any better?” Why is his voice deeper in bed?
“A little,” I say, climbing into the side closest to the door. “Thanks again for letting me stay here. I owe you one.” I regret the words as soon as I say them because I know there’s something smart-assed coming back.
“You don’t owe me anything,” he says. “I hope you feel better.”
I bite the inside of my cheek as I lay facing the door. That wasn’t the response I expected. I almost wish he’d been sarcastic. At least then I’d be able to smart-ass my way out of this. Now, I feel like opening up, which is not what I wanted. I try to fight back the urge for a few minutes, then let a breath out slowly, and turn toward him. Maybe it’s best if I let this out. I mean, it’s Maverick. I have no emotional connection to him. And after tonight, I doubt we’ll talk again until he comes back up to my mountain to assess the gold.
“I was supposed to pick up my daughters today,” I say, barely speaking the words. I haven’t said them out loud to anyone. Hell, no one even knew I was adopting.
Maverick slinks down in the bed and faces toward me, his large shoulders towering over me even as we lay side by side. “Do you have children? What happened? If you’d said someone took your children, I’d have gotten them for yo—”
“No… it’s not like that. I… I was adopting twin girls from a couple in the Springs. They didn’t have the money to raise the babies, and I was finally going to get my shot at motherhood,” I sigh. “But… they changed their minds last minute and turned me a way at the hospital.”
“Fucking hell. No wonder you needed some time alone.” He rolls into me closer, his large hand brushing my arm in comfort.
I’m not sure this is what I needed right now or not, but I don’t hate it.
“I just couldn’t go back to the cabin and see the room I’d set up for them, and there weren’t any hotels left in the city last minute because of that baseball game. Trust me, I had like nine tabs open on my phone looking before I settled on the City Line.”
“Doesn’t seem much like settling, more so a death wish. Is there another adoption you can apply for?”
My mouth goes dry. “This is the fourth time I’ve gone through this. The first two times I worked through the foster system, and the kids were taken in by family before I got to them. The third time I tried an international adoption, but the country rejected me because I’m single, and this last time well… you know what happened. It’s fine.” I take a deep breath and let it out slowly as I hold back tears. “Motherhood isn’t for me. I’m thirty-six years old. I…”
“You’re still so young.”
“Young?” I balk. “I’m hardly young. Do you know that after thirty-five, pregnant women are considered geriatric pregnancies? The world views me as old.”
He rolls onto his back. “Well, I must be ancient then. What do the doctors call forty-seven?”
“It’s different for men. Men get this pass to stay young until their seventy. Even then, some seventy-year-old men are hotter than some forty-year-old women. Nature is cruel.”
Maverick turns back and studies me, his dark eyes like a deep wave washing over my face. “I’ve never looked at a woman and thought that she was ugly because of her age. Beauty is so much more than that, and life is too short to be feeling washed up at thirty-six.” He strokes his hand again down the side of my arm. “You’ll feel better from this soon, and you’ll get back out there. You’ll see.”
“I don’t know, I feel numb right now. Angie is all hyper about me making this mayoral meeting come Monday and I don’t think I can do it. I’d imagined introducing the girls to everyone in town that day and… I’m just not feeling any of it anymore.”
“So tell them your story. I’m sure plenty of women could identify with that. It’s not the same, but my sister had issues with infertility for years before she had her son.”
“And use it as a ploy for votes? No!”
“No, use it to connect with people and show them you’re a real person.” He lowers his gaze then raises it again. “You don’t need a ploy for people’s votes. Mrs. Richardson is nice and all, but she doesn’t have the same passion for this place that you do. That’s obvious.”
I laugh. “Are you kidding? She’s got a huge following.”
“And her platform is based on kicking the miners out of town, so I think she’s going to get some kick back. People are hungry for gold here.” He smiles. “Besides, she’s not nearly as cute as you. Something tells me people will want to see that pretty face over and over.”
I scoff and roll onto my back. “Flattery? Really?”
“It’s not flattery if it’s true.” His eyes stay locked on mine, and I forget how to breathe.
“Well,” I finally say, changing the subject, “Mrs. Richardson says that mining is ruining the landscape. She’s wrong, though. It’s transforming our landscape and offering natural resources to everyone in town.”