Page 18 of The Maverick’s Forever Home (Montana Mavericks: Behind Closed Doors #2)

M aggie couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think or move. And she certainly couldn’t look away from the man staring, unflinchingly, into her eyes. She didn’t want to. Her tingles had long ago given way to something molten and unyielding and infinitely more powerful than anything she’d ever experienced.

The hunger in Braden Parker’s gaze was undeniable. And it was all for her. He wanted her.

And she wanted him. Oh, so much. She couldn’t quite wrap her brain around what was happening—or what she was feeling. He wanted her?

But…but they’d agreed to be friends. Hadn’t they?

Yes, we have.

Friends. Only friends. He’d said those very words. She remembered it clearly.

So this couldn’t be happening.

Except, it was happening. The staring. The aching. The bone-melting want.

It took physical effort to drag air into her lungs.

Even then, the pressure in her chest didn’t ease.

It didn’t help that his attention had wandered to her mouth.

She was not imagining this. His gaze was entirely fixed upon her lips.

She tested the theory by biting her lower lip. His muffled groan was answer enough.

That did it. She was back to not breathing again. In fact, she didn’t know what she was supposed to do.

“Maggie.” His voice sent a shiver down her spine.

She blinked, rapidly, and forced herself to stare out at the football field. Sure enough, the game was still in play. But there was a surreal quality to it all—like she was trapped in a dream. Maybe she was. Maybe she’d dozed off, too? That would make all of this make sense.

She’d almost convinced herself that was the case when Delilah sat up, threw up her hot chocolate and burst into tears.

“Oh, hon.” She brushed the hair from the little girl’s face. “It’s okay.”

“I threw up.” Delilah wailed. “I’m sick.”

“I know, hon.” She took a quick inventory of the situation.

From the looks of it, some of the ick had landed on her sweater and coat.

“And throwing up is no fun.” She shrugged out of her coat and sweater, thankful for the long-sleeve T-shirt she’d worn underneath.

She dropped the dirtied clothing by her feet and pulled Delilah close. “Is your tummy still achy?”

“I dunno.” She sniffed. “I wanna go home.”

“I’m sure you do.” She turned to find Cody and Braden watching, aghast, equal looks of distaste and horror on their face.

At times like this, she was grateful for her job and her ability to compartmentalize sickness—in all its forms. When it was a child suffering, Maggie’s tolerance was infinite. “Let’s get her out of here, shall we?”

“You okay, Delilah?” Cody asked. “I don’t like throwing up, either.”

“It’s icky,” Delilah said between sobs. “I want my m-mommy.”

“I know you do, sweetie.” Maggie hugged her tighter and stood. “Your daddy is here.”

“I’m here, Delilah.” He reached out for her.

“Uh-uh.” She held tighter to Maggie. “I want Maggie.”

“Okay.” Braden tried to mask his hurt, but Maggie saw it—and felt it.

“She’s upset.” Maggie did her best to reassure him. “I’ve got more squish. Squish is comforting.”

“Ma does give real good hugs,” Cody agreed.

“Thank you, Cody.” Maggie smiled at her son, pleased that he was being so considerate of Braden and Delilah.

The four of them navigated their way from the stands to the parking lot. Delilah had stopped crying by the time they reached Braden’s truck, but she was still wriggling and moaning and holding on to her tummy. As soon as Braden had the truck open, he reached for Delilah again.

“No.” Delilah clung to Maggie. “Come with me.”

“Maggie has to go home and take care of Cody, Delilah.” Braden rubbed on her back.

“I want a mommy.” Delilah turned into Maggie’s neck. “Pwease.”

Maggie closed her eyes against the tug at her heart.

“You’ve got the best daddy, sweetie.” She patted Delilah’s back, ignoring the stinging in her eyes.

“He loves you so, so much. He will hold on to you and rock you just like I am. And he’s even bigger and stronger so you’ll be twice as safe and secure. ”

Delilah’s hold didn’t ease.

“I don’t have a dad, Delilah. You do.” Cody cleared his throat. “He wants to take care of you so you should let him.”

Maggie was blinking furiously to keep the tears away.

She didn’t keep secrets from Cody. He knew his father, Ned Ralston, hadn’t been ready to be a parent.

It was the truth and much kinder than saying Ned had taken off the minute he’d found out she was pregnant.

But it hurt that he’d never reached out, in all the years since, to her or Cody.

It wasn’t like Ned didn’t know where she was.

He did. Before she got pregnant, he’d visited Tenacity once to meet her family.

You’ve missed out on so much.

“Cody’s right, sweetie. You’re so lucky to have a daddy like yours.” She offered Braden a smile. It was a shaky smile, but it was a smile all the same.

Braden just stood there, his face a stony mask.

“Daddy.” Delilah sat up and reached for Braden.

“I’ve got you, sweetie.” He held her tight against his chest. “You’re going to be all right.”

As much as she wanted to help, the best thing for Delilah was home and bed. And, considering the late hour, it was probably best for her and Cody, too. “You two going to be okay?”

“We’ll be fine.” Braden barely spared her a glance as he stooped to put Delilah in the car seat.

“Okay.” She hugged herself. Without her coat and thick sweater, the cold night air was bracing.

“Then we’ll head out, too.” She hesitated, but Braden stayed silent so she and Cody headed for their car.

“Before we leave, I need to get a shopping bag from the car and go get my things I left in the stand.”

“You sure, Ma?” Cody wrinkled up his nose. “It’ll be nasty.”

Maggie smiled at her son. “It’ll be fine after a run through the washing machine.” She opened the hatch of the SUV and grabbed a shopping bag. “Okay, maybe two runs through the washing machine.”

“Or three.” Cody laughed.

The row of bleachers where they’d been sitting was completely empty now—so was the row in front and behind it. “Nothing clears a path as fast as throw up.”

“Cuz it’s gross, Ma.” He pinched his nose when they reached her discarded clothing.

She wrapped her hand in a plastic bag, grabbed her coat, then sweater and deposited the plastic bag inside the shopping tote. She zipped it up and laughed at the face Cody was making. “It’s safe to breathe now.”

They’d almost cleared the bleachers when Mike walked up. He had the hood of his coat pulled up and a scarf wrapped around his throat.

“You look nice and warm,” Maggie said.

“Danny.” He sighed. “Doesn’t want me to catch cold.”

“Hey, Uncle Mike.” Cody grinned. “Did you see that? Ma got thrown up on.”

“I did.” Mike chuckled, too.

“Thanks a lot, you two.” She swung the shopping tote at them. “Keep it up and I’ll ask Mom to put you on laundry detail.”

“That him?” Mike asked. “Braden?”

She sighed. “No, that was someone else.” She ruffled Cody’s curls. “Come on, kiddo, let’s go.”

“Ma, the hair.” He reached up and smashed his curls flat.

“Sorry.” She glanced at her brother, who was walking with them. “Where’s Danny?”

“He can’t do the throw up thing.” Mike shook his head. “I’d say there were at least four people that ran from the stands after that little girl spewed. It was all very Exorcist .”

“What’s that?” Cody yawned.

“Nothing.” Maggie glared at her brother. The last thing she needed was her nine-year-old interested in super creepy horror movies.

Mike just chuckled and shrugged. “She okay?”

She opened the hatch of the SUV, put the shopping tote inside and closed it again. “She will be. Will Danny be okay?”

“Oh, yeah. Eventually.” Mike leaned against the side of the truck while Cody climbed up and buckled himself in. “Night, Cody.”

“Night, Uncle Mike.”

She closed the door and faced her brother. “Okay, out with it.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “It sounds like you and Danny were keeping tabs on us this evening.”

“This is a surprise?” Mike leaned forward, his gaze narrowing a fraction of an inch. “I’m here to tell you that your whole friends only story is a load of bull—”

“He might be able to hear you, you know.” She tugged him to the end of the car.

“Honestly, I don’t care what you think about my story.

He’s a nice guy, Mike. And he has the sweetest little girl.

” She should stop while she was ahead. The more she went on about them, the more questions Mike would have.

“I imagine she’s great when she’s not throwing up on you.” Mike was still watching her. “I know you, you know that.”

She did know that. At times, being his twin was infuriating. Like now.

“Fine.” He sighed. “If you’re not ready to admit the truth, I can’t make you.

” He opened his mouth, closed it, then said, “I guess I don’t understand why you two are wasting time.

Anyone who saw you all together tonight would have thought they were looking at a family.

And that was before the two of you were looking at each other like you were going to go at it—right there in the bleachers. ” His brows rose high.

“You’re overexaggerating, Mike.” She shook her head. “I love you dearly. But I’m tired and cold and I want to go home.” She hugged him. “How about you come to the house tomorrow and tell me how I really feel then, okay?”

“Smart-ass.” But he was chuckling when he hugged her back. “Fine. Go home. Get some sleep. But tomorrow—”

“All right, all right.” She waved him off and climbed into the SUV. “Sorry about tonight, Cody.” Nothing—no grunt of acknowledgment, not a peep. She turned to find him draped over the center armrest, snoring softly.

The drive home seemed longer than usual. Her brain ping-ponged back and forth between what was said the day of their hike and the looks that were exchanged tonight. It was hard to reconcile the two. By the time she unbuckled Cody and tugged him into her arms, she was more confused than ever.