Maverick wasn’t sure what to make of the book. When he’d heard she wrote romance novels, he was picturing something more in line with the sappy Hallmark Christmas movies his mother loved. This book was…something else entirely.
Making a note of the title, he returned the book to the desk, then went back to work.
It wasn’t until much later that night, while alone in his bedroom, that Maverick did a little bit more digging, making his way to her website, where he read the blurb to every single book she’d ever written.
From there, he did what he’d sworn he wouldn’t do after leaving Nora’s office.
He bought one of her books—one about a young woman and her sexy, demanding older boss trapped together in a cabin during a blizzard—and started reading.
Maverick could imagine the cabin she described on the pages perfectly—because he’d been there. She’d literally drawn a picture of the Hideaway with her words.
About a hundred pages in, he had to close the book because one of the scenes sent him back in time. To the first day he and Ella had gone to Hideaway cabin.
“It’s so nice here,”Ella said, walking around the small cabin, dragging her finger along the island that separated the kitchen area from the living room.
“Nice is a word,” Maverick joked. “So is rustic, which is the one my mom uses with guests. In truth, this cabin is one of the originals on the farm, so it’s old as shit and in bad need of repairs.”
Ella shook her head. “I think it’s perfect, and your mom is right. It’s rustic and quaint.”
Maverick reached out, wrapping his arms around Ella’s waist to pull her back to his chest. Now that he had her alone, he would be hard-pressed to keep his hands off her. “Lucky for us it is. Because this rustic cabin is rarely rented. Visitors prefer the cabins with a lot more amenities, like air-conditioning and a dishwasher.”
“I’m not sure AC is necessary. I mean, despite the fact it’s August, it’s pretty cool in here.”
“That’s because we’re deep in the woods, surrounded by tall trees. Not much sunlight gets through.” While the other cabins higher up on the mountain had stellar views of the valley below, Maverick had always preferred Hideaway, because it was tucked away from the hubbub of the farm, hidden from view of everything. It was perfectly quiet this deep in the woods, nothing but the sounds of nature to break the silence—birds singing, squirrels scampering over leaves, wind rustlingthrough the trees. He’d been coming here since he was young, the cabin his favorite thinking spot, the place he visited whenever he needed to clear his thoughts or just get a break from his large, loud family.
When he was here, Maverick could pretend he was the only person on the planet, and he’d never wanted to share it with anyone before Ella.
Maverick nuzzled her neck, and she giggled.
“You’re sure no one will come here?” she asked, when his hand drifted beneath her shirt.
“It’s far enough off the beaten path that everyone in the family drives here because it’s too far to walk. We’ll hear a car coming down the dirt road long before they get here.”
His reassurances seemed to do the trick, because Ella twisted in his embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him.
“Good,” she murmured against his lips.
She’d been visibly uneasy yesterday when they left the library for their picnic by the river, but today, she seemed more comfortable, less skittish.
Which was good for her.
He, on the other hand, was as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs, as his granddaddy was fond of saying. He’d spent months wishing there was some way they could be alone together, without Ella always looking over her shoulder like they were doing something bad. And now they were here, and he wanted to make sure everything was perfect.
Maverick deepened the kiss, his hands sneaking under her shirt again. Yesterday was the first time he’d touched her breasts, and he couldn’t wait to do it again. Because Ella’s demure shirts did too good a job when it came to hiding her figure.
Ella shivered when his fingers slid along her sides. When he reached the cotton of her bra, he realized there was a decision to be made. Shift forward and cup her breasts the way he had yesterday, or travel to the back, unhook the damn thing, and treat himself to a real touch.
He went for option two.
Ella gasped, breaking the kiss, when she felt his fingers fumbling with the hooks on her bra. She didn’t let him struggle for long, reaching back on her own and unfastening the thing with practiced fingers.
Her shirt still covered her.
“Ella,” he whispered.
She licked her lips, equal parts nerves and excitement, then took a large step away from him.
He would have complained if she hadn’t also reached down to grasp the hem of her shirt.