Page 27 of Want You Back (Second Chance Ranch #1)

Chapter 27

Colt

Parenthood was a never-ending series of praying for miracles, and seldom had I been more grateful than when the hospital released Willow with only a mild concussion and an assortment of bumps and bruises. Maverick had stayed the entire time she was in the ER. Thank goodness because I continued to be far too shaky to drive myself. Willow predictably refused to let me carry her into the house, and I didn’t fully exhale until she limped her way to her room.

“There. How does being in your own bed feel?” I asked after she banished me long enough to put on pajamas and snuggle under her stack of covers. In a rare domestic mood, Betsey had helped Willow decorate the cowgirl-themed room. A picture of Betsey on horseback sat on the dresser, right next to one of the three of us. Time seemed to have crept up on me. The girl in the bed was far bigger and older than the little kid in the family picture. “All cozy?”

“Dad.” Willow released a long-suffering groan. “I’m fine. Really. You can stop helicoptering anytime now.”

“Sorry.” I patted her stack of quilts and straightened a toppled teddy bear. Soon, she’d be too big for stuffies and bunk beds and need more teen-appropriate decor, but tonight, she was still my little girl. “You gave us all quite the scare.”

“I know. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry for Pepperjack too. He must have been so scared.” Willow sounded far more concerned for the horse than herself. “I want to see him tomorrow.”

“I’ll try to make that happen.” I’d already called the office to let Dolores know I was taking a rare sick day to be with Willow.

“Maybe when we take Maverick back?” Yawning, Willow gave a big stretch. “He’s staying over, right?”

“Uh…” I made a helpless noise. “Hadn’t exactly thought that far ahead. He volunteered to drive to the hospital and then back here. Not sure what the plan is.”

Once we’d arrived at the house, Maverick had shooed me in the direction of Willow’s room. Some friend I was that I hadn’t thought about him getting home or what he might be doing while I tucked Willow in.

“Well, he’s gotta sleep somewhere.” Willow’s tone was sleepy yet pragmatic. “I’m glad you had a friend. Grandma said you were too much of a nervous wreck to drive yourself.”

“Grandma wasn’t wrong.” I gave a tight laugh. “So, you’ll be okay if Maverick is still here in the morning?”

“Yep.” Willow yawned again. “Just take me to see my horse.”

“Deal. You sleep now.” I pulled her covers up. She seemed to have come to some sort of peace about Maverick. I wished I could say the same as I continued to be a jumbled mess about his presence in our lives and what it meant for all of us. “I’ll check in on you later.”

I shut Willow’s door with a click, resisting the temptation to hunt down her old baby monitor. All her tests at the hospital had been blessedly normal, but that didn’t stop me from worrying. I padded down the hall, where I found Maverick cleaning my kitchen. The fridge, dishwasher, and flat-top stove all sparkled.

“You didn’t have to clean.” Weary beyond all reasonableness, I collapsed into one of the chairs at the small kitchen table.

“Eh. It was something to do and one less thing on your list, Sheriff.” Maverick pointed to my always-growing to-do list on the fridge.

“Thanks.” I was about to lay my head on the table when he set a steaming mug in front of me.

“I made you tea.”

“Not sure I’m in the mood for a hot drink.” I’d nearly lost my dinner when Willow hit the dirt, and my stomach continued to be none too sure of itself.

“It has whiskey in it.”

“Bless you.” If ever I needed a stiff drink, this was it. I took a long, bracing swallow, letting the burn warm all the places frozen by fear. “Okay. That helps.”

“Think you can sleep?” Maverick was hovering even more than I had with Willow. “You should shower. Hannah went to bed a while ago, but I’ll call Adler or?—”

“You don’t need to leave.” I held up a hand. “It’s the middle of the night. Even Willow’s expecting you to be here in the morning. She’s banking on a chance to see her horse when we take you home.”

“Oh. Okay.” Maverick absorbed this news with wide eyes and restless hands. “If you’re sure?”

“Come shower with me.” Standing, I finished the rest of my tea and set the mug in the sink. “Bathroom door locks. You can make sure I don’t topple over.”

Of course I checked on Willow one more time before locking my bedroom and bathroom doors. She was out and snoring softly, seemingly already past the worst of her fall. I hoped I could say the same for myself soon, but my head continued to churn as I joined Maverick in the small bathroom off my bedroom.

Blessedly, Maverick didn’t seem inclined to push me to talk. Instead, he continued what he’d been doing all night, silently supporting me through little tasks like getting the shower going and laying out two towels. My rumpled uniform was a problem for the cleaners, and I let it fall in a heap as Maverick also stripped.

He motioned for me to get in the shower first. The remodeled tile shower was the only thing remotely spacious about the room and a selling point for the house. However, two grown men were still tight fit. But Maverick seemed intent on making sure I got most of the hot water, soaping my chest and back with firm, soothing hands.

“That’s good.” I leaned into his touch, taking a full inhale for what felt like the first time in hours. The space smelled minty and clean, a stark contrast from the hospital. God, it all could have gone down so much worse. My breaths turned uneven again, and Maverick draped himself over my back, silently holding me up. I pushed my face under the spray, as much for the distraction as to cover any escaping tears.

“Sorry,” I mumbled when I finally let myself breathe again.

“Don’t be.” Maverick kept right on touching and holding me as if I weren’t more fragile than cotton candy in the rain. “That’s what I’m here for.”

“Thank you.” I spun so I could clutch him to my chest. He fit against me perfectly, and we stood there, clinging to each other until the shower sputtered a warning that we were likely on the last of the hot water. Maverick continued taking care of me even after flipping off the shower, drying me off, leading me to bed, and spooning me from behind in the dimly lit room.

However, I couldn’t fully relax, my legs moving restlessly against the crisp cotton sheets. I flipped so I was the one spooning him, yet that didn’t seem to help.

“What do you need?” Maverick asked, and suddenly, the answer was right there, plain as the full moon hanging outside.

“You.” I kissed him softly, tension leaving my shoulders and back as soon as our mouths met. This. This was my reset button. I needed him on a base level, needed to make him feel good, watch him find pleasure, seek my own release. Connection. I needed the most human of experiences, a craving not for sex so much as the feeling of being alive and cared for. “How quiet can you be?”

“Very.” Maverick chuckled against my lips. “We don’t have to do anything more than kiss, but do you think an orgasm might help you sleep?”

“Worth a shot.” I laughed as well. Maverick started wriggling south, destination clear from his determined gaze. I pulled him back up against me. “Come here.”

“I can be quieter with my mouth occupied.” He gave me a pointed look.

“I’m sure.” I kissed him again, sweet and true, before rolling him under me. “Just want this.”

“Yes.” Maverick arched up, moving so our cocks brushed. I loved using my hand on him, and fucking had been a fun and memorable experience, but I’d always liked rubbing off best of all. Perhaps it was the memory of that first kiss, all the adrenaline, wonder, and first glancing touches giving way to rocking against each other. For whatever reason, grinding together while kissing had always done it for me.

Even after all these years, there was something special about pressing into him, muscle meeting muscle, strength yielding to strength. He wrapped his powerful runner’s legs around the backs of my thighs, holding me tightly. Our hard cocks were trapped between us. Remembering Maverick’s preference for things to be slicker, I reached for the nightstand, fetching the lotion I sometimes used when jacking off.

“Perfect.” Maverick gave a happy sigh as I worked a slick hand between us, getting our cocks nice and slippery before withdrawing my hand.

“Perfect,” I echoed. I rocked against him, sliding far easier now. His mouth opened as if to moan, and I captured it in a kiss, drinking down his noises and whatever else he wanted to give me. My attention was split between the perfection of our bodies moving together and the utter rightness of every kiss we shared. There was no such thing as too aggressive for Maverick, so I kissed him deeply, tongues dancing. He sucked on my tongue, playfully at first, then purposefully until I got the idea and tongue-fucked him in time with my thrusts against him.

“Gonna,” he whispered, breath tickling my lips.

“Good.” I moved faster, kissing him harder as I rocked against him. He clung to me, fingers scoring my back, heels digging into my ass, as close as a body could get. And yet I wanted more, wanted all of him. His pleasure. His soul, which was right there for the taking, emotion gleaming in his eyes.

Body tensing, Maverick tipped his head back, but I used my hand on his jaw to force him to keep meeting my gaze. A possessive and greedy energy had taken hold of me. Maverick didn’t seem to mind one bit, though, writhing against me, face a mask of concentration.

His jaw dropped open, and I claimed another kiss right as warmth splashed between us. That set me off big time, and I thrust hard and fast. The knowledge that he was coming because of me spurred me on. Orgasm bore down on me, and I held my breath, stifling the shout that wanted to escape. The lack of oxygen intensified my climax that much more, cock pulsing hard as I shuddered and shook.

“Oh fuck,” I whispered, breath coming in big gusts.

“Guess you did need that.” Maverick stroked my back, seemingly in no hurry to deal with the mess. “We both did.”

Need. The word loomed big and ugly in my brain. Everything else I felt for Maverick crowded in behind that one word. I didn’t want to think. I wanted to float along on the happy sensations. Need. I couldn’t help my frustrated noise.

“What’s wrong?” Maverick peered up at me.

“I don’t want to need you.” I made a broken sound as I rolled off him, landing on my back, staring up at the ceiling, sticky come cooling on my belly. “Needing you means losing you.”

“No.” Glaring, Maverick sat up. He grabbed one of our discarded towels, swiping at his stomach and then mine with jerky motions. “I meant what I said earlier. I’m staying.”

“For now.” He was staying tonight, maybe for the rest of the year. That needed to be enough, yet never would be.

“For always.” He swung a leg over me, pinning me so I couldn’t escape the words I longed to hear. Impossible, crazy words, and damn the hope rising in my chest.

“Maverick…”

“I love you, Colt.” And there those words were, even worse than need. Love. The thing we didn’t talk about yet felt all the same. I stared up at him, his beautiful, chiseled face. In his eyes, I saw him at fourteen, concentrating on an arcade game, and at fifteen, camping, rare contentment on his face as the summer sun warmed his peachy skin. The lines around his mouth were new, but those were the same lips I’d kissed at eighteen, the same mouth that had told me goodbye. How could I not love that face?

My words stayed trapped behind the giant rubber band ball in my throat, all those conflicting and competing emotions. One wrong move and everything was going to spring free. As if he knew, Maverick laid a finger on my lips.

“You don’t have to say anything. Just let me love you. And let me stay.” He took on the same determined expression as Willow attacking an obstacle, but Maverick staying was way more than a barrel in the arena. “I’m going to stay.”

“I can’t let you give up your California life.” Groaning, I thumped my head against the pillow. He was offering me the thing I’d wanted most at eighteen, but my almost-forty self knew better than to accept. The price was too high. “How the heck is you staying supposed to work anyway? Faith wants to sell. You hate the idea of being a rancher.”

“I don’t have all the answers.” Maverick shrugged as if this were an insignificant point. “But I want to find a way. For you. For Hannah. For Willow. I want to stay and make this work.”

“You listed everyone but yourself.” A harsh shudder raced through me, loosening the words stuck in my throat. “I love you too much to let you be miserable.”

“You love me.” Maverick beamed like I’d handed him a gift. “And I love you. Let me worry about making this work.”

He kissed me then, soft, like a signature on a contract, a promise he couldn’t possibly keep. And I, weak and only too human, let him. I had no clue and zero faith this would work out. For a moment, though, the fight left me. He loved me. I loved him. It wasn’t nearly that simple, but just for tonight, I wanted to pretend.