THE CRAZY GOOD SERIES - Rachel Robinson Page 0,87

I’m trying to stand up for myself against her. The table falls silent. Morganna is head bitch. That much is obvious. At our silence a few of the guys cast curious stares our way. I try not to avert my gaze, to avoid Maverick. I’ll hold my own without his help. I’ve got this. Actually, Morganna’s got this, but it’s my freaking heart that is pounding.

“It’s just weird. That’s all,” Marney says, chastened. “I’ve never seen him out with a woman before. Aren’t you the least bit interested in why he picked her? After turning away Becky and Freya and even Chloe!” My stomach churns. Marney fixes me with her glare and this time it’s sincere curiosity.

I swallow. I take a deep breath. I fold my hands in my lap. I take another calming breath. Sometime during my exercise in control he crept up. Maverick stands right next to me, in between Morganna and I, sending shivers and panic throughout my body.

“Becky, Freya, and Chloe weren’t for me, Marney,” Maverick says tactfully. Actually, now my heart is pounding. He lays a hand on my shoulder. “Windsor isn’t like them. She’s not like anyone, because she is the one. My one. Why did I pick her? I’m lucky she picked me, honestly. She’s real. I owe her more than rattling off the never-ending list of why she’s the one for me, so I’m shutting my fucking mouth. All you need to know is I’m hers. Make her feel welcome.” His fingers tighten on me.

Morganna cackles. The Y’s, including Marney, are open mouth breathing, watching Mav. It’s kind of nice, but I don’t want him to defend me. I want to be the woman who stands up for herself. I might suck at it, but a valiant effort is always noticed.

Never let them see you sweat. I gaze up into his hazel eyes and then back at the group. “So we’re clear. My business is my business. Not yours. Thanks for that, Mav, but you didn’t have to explain yourself for their benefit.” I wave my hand around the table. Nervous hair tosses catch my eye. “But I did enjoy listening for my own benefit.” I bite my lip and give him my most suggestive smile.

He leans down and kisses my temple, then my cheek. I feel self-conscious, but not enough to stop him. He kisses me again, over my hair, but still on my ear. He whispers, “It wasn’t for their benefit. I’ll give you the never-ending list later.” I shiver. “In bed,” he rasps quietly. He straightens. “Let me know when you’re ready to go,” he says, walking back to his table.

The guys haven’t even missed him. They’re all wrapped up in some overtly loud conversation that requires the use of their hands to explain. It’s sort of funny. They get away with so much more than average people. It’s because they honestly don’t give a shit what people think. The earth circles the sun. That’s normal—it’s a fact. These guys go through life on their own frequency, with their own agenda and their own…rules. I get it now—seeing them together fuses all the voids I wasn’t sure of before. This is Maverick’s family. That’s a fact.

Marney snaps out of her trance and says, “Well, guess we all know the answer now.” Hushed whispers start. Morganna groans, ready to dominate any conversation that sparks. I prepare myself for round two. With Maverick’s touch still on my skin, I’m ready for anything.

“What exactly is that?” I ask, looking at each person in the eye one at a time. Show no weakness. I repeat the mantra of the strong.

“Maverick Hart is finally in love,” Marney admits. The women laugh a little and it’s not caustic laughter; it’s genuine laughter stemming from disbelief. I realize whatever I have with Maverick is huge. The leaps and bounds of progress we’ve made in our relationship shifted from tiny skips to huge spikes. I never in a million years would have thought I’d be okay with being in this position again. I am, though. So much so, that I didn’t even think about it. It was just a natural progression. Maverick and Windsor.

The air shifts and they no longer direct bitterness at me.

“Who would have thought,” Morganna offers, shooting a fond look at Stone, who doesn’t notice her gaze. “Who would have thought?” She glances at me, smiles wide, and then turns her gaze to all the Y’s. Morg raises her glass and all of the