CHAPTER 18
You did what?” Maverick asked, standing in the doorway to her bedroom that night. “Because I know I didn’t just hear what I think I heard.”
Alexa had been sitting on the edge of the bed trying to work up the nerve to tell him that she’d agreed to meet Grant when he’d popped in and asked what was wrong. “I told Grant I’d meet with him. Tomorrow after work.” She forced herself to look Maverick in the eye.
He raked his hands through his dark blond hair, the movement raising his shirt and exposing a sliver of lean muscle and inked skin above his jeans. “Why? Why would you do that?”
“I didn’t want to—”
“Did he threaten you?” Maverick asked, coming to stand in front of where she sat. Agitation rolled off of him, but it didn’t scare Alexa. It made her worry that he’d be disappointed in her, but didn’t scare her.
She thought back over the interaction with Grant. There hadn’t been an overt threat, but she certainly hadn’t felt entirely safe, either. He had scared her, even though she hated it, so agreeing had seemed like the path of least resistance. “No, not really.”
Mav held out his hands, still stained with grease around the tips of his fingers. “What does that mean, Al? Please, start from the beginning and tell me what happened.”
She did, recounting everything she could remember. “So, no, he didn’t threaten me. But he was really angry and I . . . I . . . just gave in. Okay? I hated it the minute I agreed, but now I’m stuck.”
“Cancel. Tell him you’re not meeting with him. It’s bad enough you have to work with him. I don’t trust him alone with you at all.” Maverick paced in front of her.
“He won’t let me cancel. I’m going to have to do this sometime. For closure. And stop pacing. You’re making me even more nervous.”
Oh a huff, Maverick crouched down in front of her, his hands on her knees. “Damnit, I don’t mean to make you nervous. But my gut says this is bad news. Fucking Slater.”
“Yeah.” She shrugged and hugged herself. “But what’s the worst he could do? It’s not like he can lock me up in the basement.”
Maverick’s blue eyes flashed. “Don’t even joke about that, Alexa. You’d be surprised what a control-freak with his reputation on the line might be willing to do to get what he wants. And I don’t want to see that happen to you.”
She let out a shaky breath. “So what do I do then?”
“Not you. We. You do this, we’re going with you.” He pulled out his cell phone and dialed.
Alexa’s stomach flipped before the meaning of his words fully sank in, and by then, he already had Phoenix on the line.
“MAVERICK, I DON’T think this is a good idea,” Alexa said when he picked her up after work at the model home she’d been designing. She was meeting with Slater in an hour, and Mav was kinda going out of his fucking mind about that.
Straddling his Harley parked in a driveway surrounded by newly laid sod, he handed her his helmet. “It’s the only idea.” It was the first day he’d picked her up on the Night Rod instead of in his truck, but for what was happening tonight, he wanted the NRS. No, he needed it. Needed Grant to see them two up on the back of the bike, Alexa with her arms and her thighs wrapped around Maverick.
Maybe it made him an asshole, but Maverick was worried about her being alone with Slater, and that had his protective instincts roaring to life. Being worried made Mav pissed off, too, and being pissed off made him feel all kinds of possessive and territorial. All of which meant he’d been a bear to be around the past twenty-four hours, something he’d apologize to Alexa for later. When all this was behind them and he knew she was safe. And this would be behind them, one way or the other. Because by the time this night was over, Slater was going to know Alexa Harmon wasn’t his. Once and for fucking all.
“Take the damn helmet, Alexa,” he said, nailing her with a stare. Somehow it didn’t help his mood that she looked stunning in a pair of slim black pants, strappy black heels, a silky tank top and a little black jacket with leather accents all over it. She had her hair up in a high ponytail that made Maverick want to suck on her neck. Hard enough to mark it.
She sighed and took it. “I don’t need you to be bossy.”
“Why can you stand up to me but not him? Ever think of that?” he asked.
She froze with the helmet halfway to her head. “Because . . .”