Page 43 of Deception & Daylight (Oak Ridge #3)

Miles

? Break the Cycle - You + Me

F or the last three days, Maggie’s been practically living with me — not that I’m complaining.

There’s evidence of her presence all around my house; from the little crumpled up balls of paper to pens with her teeth marks imprinted on the ends.

She even wears my clothes, and that alone fills me with an immense sense of satisfaction.

There’s something about that Barlow Construction logo on her chest that makes me want to throw her over my shoulder and stake my claim over and over on every surface in this house. In fact, I can, and I have.

It feels like a massive fucking victory, even if we still haven’t addressed the unspoken truth of what happened two years ago.

In some deep recesses of my mind, I know I’ll have to come clean eventually, but right now I’m content to have her in my arms every single night, listening to her quiet breaths escaping her slightly parted lips.

I drop her off at the inn in the mornings, and pick her up after work like we’ve been doing this for years — like we should h ave been doing for years.

If I’m certain of anything, it’s that Mags and I have always been inevitable.

I dump the rest of my tepid coffee into the kitchen sink and rinse the mug, setting it gently in the drying rack before I take off through the house to find my girl.

I find her in the ensuite bathroom, brushing her teeth.

When she spots me in the mirror, she smiles and some of the foamy toothpaste falls into the sink — fuck, she’s cute.

“I was thinking of heading over to Liam’s to use the gym.

Did you wanna come?” She quirks a brow, and I instantly regret my choice of words.

“With me. Did you want to come along with me?” The rambling course correction has her eyes crinkling in amusement.

Not breaking eye contact, she spits, and that should definitely not turn me on, but dammit, I’m constantly hard around this woman. It’s becoming a problem.

“Sure. Give me ten minutes to finish getting ready. I’ll meet you at the truck.” In a move that’s far too casual, she pops onto her toes and kisses my cheek, leaving a combination of spearmint and roses in her wake.

Ten minutes later, Maggie comes bounding down the porch steps in a pair of tight as fuck purple leggings with a matching sports bra and a barely there off the shoulder crop top.

It’s a damn good thing we’re only going to Liam’s house to work out, because I don’t think I could stand being out in public with so much of my girl on display.

Call me a caveman, but I’m feeling possessive as fuck.

Opening the passenger door, I usher her inside and wait for the click of the seatbelt before walking around to the driver’s side.

Maggie’s bluetooth automatically connects to the speakers with her female empowerment playlist queued up.

She rolls down her window, her hair whipping in the breeze as she sings at the top of her lungs, and it feels like my heart is beating out of my chest at how right this feels.

When I pull up outside Liam’s house, I spot Aid en, Liam’s son, coming out of a small pop up tent.

He waves briefly before disappearing inside while Liam struggles to crawl out after him, his massive frame getting stuck in the small opening. It’s almost comical.

“Hey Li. Mind if we use the gym?”

“Nah, man. Have at it. Watch your stance when you’re throwing those punches this time.

” Something that could pass for a smile in Liam’s world crosses his features, then he turns to look at Mags.

To his credit, he doesn’t check her out, and I appreciate not having to show him just how much my aim has improved.

“Hey Mags. How’s this asshole treating you? Blink twice if you need help.”

I hold up my middle finger, and Maggie swats it away with a derisive snort. “I’m good, Liam. If anybody needs help, it’d be Miles.”

Without preamble, I tug her to my side, cup her cheek and kiss her thoroughly. “Think I’m good, Wildcat.” With a smack on the ass, I guide her towards the door, ignoring the gorgeous flush on her cheeks as she waves at Liam.

My first mistake was inviting Mags to the gym.

My second mistake was not turning around when she walked out of the house looking like a goddamn wet dream.

Now her body is coated in a thin sheen of sweat as she squats with an impressively weighted dumbbell held between her hands, her pert ass angled perfectly for me to discreetly check out in the mirror.

I’ve had to adjust my dick more than once to hide my growing erection.

After a few more reps, I re-rack the barbell as the clanking sound echoes through the quiet gym.

When I head over to the weight bench beside the heavy bag, Mags makes eye contact with me in the mirror and she sets down her weights before joining me on the bench as I secure the hand wraps. “Will you teach me?”

“I find it hard to believe Maggie fucking Watson can’t throw a punch.”

She playfully backhands me on the chest, her touch light and teasing. “Contrary to what you might think of me, I’ve never been prone to violence, no matter how often you’ve tested that resolve.”

“Alright. Let’s get your hands wrapped and I’ll give you a couple of lessons.” Her brows shoot up and she bites her bottom lip. “If you keep looking at me like that, we’re going to have a very different lesson. Turn and hold out your hand.”

“Why do you wanna learn how to throw a punch?”I ask, wrapping her right hand with much more care than I would my own.

She pinches her eyes closed, inhaling shakily. “I don’t want to be helpless again.”

The statement hits me like a gut shot. I stop what I’m doing, using one hand to tilt her chin, stealing a look at those amber eyes.

Where I expect to see pain, I find only fierce determination, and it steals my breath as quickly as she gave it back to me.

“You’ll never have to feel that way again, baby.

I’ve got you.” It’s scary how much I mean that.

After I finish wrapping her hands, I lead her to the heavy bag.

“Two things to remember when you’re making a fist: the top of your hand should be flat, and don’t tuck your thumb or it’ll break.

You want to have it wrapped around your index finger.

Don’t worry about clenching tight until you’re throwing the punch.

As long as you hit with the biggest knuckles, it’ll have the intended impact. ”

She flexes her hands and adjusts her positioning. “Good. That’s perfect. If you’re in a fistfight, remember to protect your face and keep your elbows down. Standing behind her, I bring her hands up into position, angling her elbows down. “Just like that.”

I walk aro und the heavy bag and hold it in place. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Her fist connects with the leather, and her face instantly scrunches in pain. She shakes it out and grasps her wrist. “Not bad, but you flipped your wrist halfway to the target. Keep your wrist aligned with your forearm to distribute the force evenly. Try again.”

She does much better this time, and we go over how to punch with your non-dominant hand next, before I lead her over to the mats. “Now I’m gonna show you how to break out of a hold if someone grabs you from behind.”

Her face blanches and her shoulders bunch. “That’s…” She doesn’t need to finish her sentence. That’s how he attacked her.

“I’ll keep talking the whole time. Just listen to my voice. If you need to stop, use your safe word. Got it?” She briefly composes herself and nods.

“Okay. I’m ready.”

I assume my stance behind her, wrapping my arms around her neck and shoulders.

“As soon as you feel a forearm circle your neck, tuck your chin, grab my wrist with both hands, twist away from my elbow and duck under my armpit.” I take her through the motions, one at a time, guiding her.

“Good. If that doesn’t work, I want you to throw a punch to the groin.

When the attacker doubles over, throw that elbow up to the chin, and that should give you space to duck out.

” We go through the motions over and over, her confidence growing each time.

“And if all else fails, aim for the eyes, nose, throat, solar plexus, and groin. Fight like hell, baby.”

By the time the lesson is over, she’s panting and we’re both a sweaty mess, but I’m so fucking proud of her. If I have it my way, she’ll never have to use any of what she just practiced, but I know I can’t control the universe, no matter how badly I want to protect her from it.

“Thank y ou,” she says, popping onto her toes to kiss me as she wraps her arms around my neck.

My hand teases the exposed skin between her leggings and sports bra, as I deepen the kiss, and suddenly I can’t stand our height difference, so I bend at the knees and hoist her up my body until her legs are wrapped around my waist. She giggles as I walk us towards the bench, grab my duffle, and guide her out of Liam’s house. I can’t get her home fast enough.

Mags

Miles snags me by the wrist, attempting to drag me back to the bedroom after a very thorough shower that had to be repeated for…

reasons. “Babe, I really have to go,” I whine, leaning in for one last chaste kiss on his stubbled jaw.

“Book club starts in like ten minutes and Paige is already texting me. You know how she is. If you’re not fifteen minutes early, you're late.”

“You said it again,” he says, his lips tugging into that infuriating smirk. “Call me babe again and maybe I’ll let you go.”

“I’ll see you later… babe.”