14. Maeve

FOURTEEN

MAEVE

"Hey there, stranger." JW and I pulled into the designated parking spots for my house at the same time. He texted earlier saying he'd be staying the night and had dinner covered.

"Hey, baby." He collects my bag while dipping his head, brushing his lips across mine. My eyes close, hand going to his chest, feeling the way his heart beats beneath my palm. JW deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding and tangling with mine. His hands are full, or I'm sure he'd have them in my hair, guiding me in the way we both like. Too bad it's over before I'm ready. "Let's get inside before we give your neighbors a show, yeah?"

"Okay." We walk up the sidewalk together until we land on the small front porch of my place. I unlock the door and hold it open for him to go in front of me since he's lugging my bag, groceries bags, and what looks like a duffle as well.

"Mae, go on in. You need to turn the alarm off." He holds his arm out for me to proceed him.

I snort as I walk by him. The alarm is only there for decoration at this point. When I signed my lease for my house, it came with an alarm system. I called a company out, and they gave me the runaround and tried to tell me I needed a whole new system. Since I don't own my home, there was no way I'd be investing money I'd never see a return on.

"It's not hooked up," I say, walking past the keypad attached to the wall in the foyer, hanging my keys up instead.

"Is there a reason why?" JW sounds similar to my father. He's said the same thing multiple times, going so far as offering to pay for the system to be set up. I refused, telling him I'm fine, and I'm not here near as much as at Whisked Away, so what's the point?

"It needs a doohickey and thingamabob, along with several other things which would require more money than it's worth." Before everything happened to Whisked Away, I had a plan. One that included buying a place of my own, so I didn't and still don't see the point in fixing it. Now my plans might change a bit more. We'll have to see what happens next. I've sat down and written out budget after budget, game plan after game plan, and while it hurts to see what could happen, I know I'll keep trucking along. There's no other way. Us Oliver girls don't give up. Our glasses are always half full; the optimism is contagious. At least that's how we were raised, and while I have my dramatic moments, with the help of my sisters, they pull me out of the dumps.

"Not liking this, not at all," JW grunts out his response. He walks in, and I move to shut and lock the door behind him.

"You and my whole family. I also don't own the place." I shrug my shoulders, leaving it open to interpretation. JW places my purse and his duffle bag on the couch then walks to the kitchen. He makes himself at home, pulling the contents out of each bag. One in particular looks a lot like one of Mrs. Johnson's reusable canvas-type style with a bunch of farm animals on it. The others are plastic like you'd get at a grocery store.

"Still, can you at least arm it to deter someone?" He looks up from taking out a plethora of vegetables, a large loaf of bread, a few condiments, and lastly meat wrapped in butcher paper.

"Nope, the keypad only lights up; it doesn't do anything else. Dad looked at it, and my landlord looked at it, too. The tenants before me did the addition. Therefore, said landlord, who is a really nice lady, said it'd be out of my pocket. Dad offered money. I told him no. He looked at it and said it was above his paygrade." JW in my kitchen, taking care of me in the form of dinner, I would have never thought this would happen. He's in his signature white cotton shirt, worn-in jeans, and boots. His hat might not be on his head, but it left him with a little bit of hat head. Still, it doesn't deter him from looking deliciously hot right now.

"I'll take a look at it after dinner. In the meantime, I'll stay here or you can come out to the ranch." I don't say anything at first. His eyes meet mine, arms flexing as he works methodically. You'd think he'd been here a million times with how he finds everything to put together dinner. "I'd prefer you stay at my place, but I know your shop is closer to yours. Figure we'll exchange keys, and you can keep me apprised on where you're laying your head at night."

JW has the ability to knock me out of orbit. I rock back on my heels, stopping me in my tracks to where I want to be. As humanly close to him as possible, the only thing blocking my path is me and the peninsula counter. "Joseph," I breathe out his name, his real name, not what others call him, but what I call him.

"Damn, love when you say my name. Like it a fuck of a lot more when you're moaning it." My knees weaken with his admission, and I'm spurred to move my feet faster.

"I have a spare key in the kitchen drawer, and are you sure?"

His hand wraps around my waist, and he wedges me between his big body and the kitchen counter, almost like he's scared I'm going to escape his hold.

"Told you this mornin,' baby girl. I'm going to be wherever you are. I'd prefer my place, but I'm not going to uproot you with all this bullshit going on right now. I'm all in. Might have taken me a minute worrying about how you'd take me being me. I'd have shielded you from it, bit it back down, and been okay. Last night, we clearly got a good understanding of one another. So, yeah, I'm sure, Maeve." His hands move to each side of my body, bracing them on the counter, dipping his body down in order to be at eye level. He's making sure his words are sinking in, which they absolutely are.

"Then I don't care where we sleep, my place or yours. My hours have changed. I won't get there while it's still dark out, not yet at least. Tomorrow, I'll pack a bag and head to the ranch after I close Whisked Away." I've yet to tell him that his mom and Case made an appearance. We made batch after batch. Case has entered his toddler age, and it brought back a slew of memories when Ryan was that age. The only difference is it's taking him a bit of time to get the hang of things, Catherine looked at me when I noticed, she shrugged her shoulders, but I saw the worry on her face. I gave her hand a quick squeeze then we were back to baking cookies. I didn't have Whisked Away then, yet I still made sure we baked something together every chance we got. Now she's older, and it's not as much fun unless she sees it happening on an app and it's a trend. Either way, I'll make time if she'll give me the time of day. When Mrs. Johnson and Case left, I had a full heart, a great day, and they had box after box of cookies to share with the family at the ranch.

"Good, that's settled." JW kisses my forehead, moves away from me, and heads for the fridge.

"Do you want any help with dinner?" I ask. His back is facing me as he pulls a beer out of the fridge, courtesy of Maddie's choice. He takes the cap off, brings it to his mouth, and takes a long sip. His throat bops. Add that to the top of the ‘JW's sexy in all ways' list. It's when he pulls out the ingredients for my Aperol Spritz that I'm thrown for another loop. The only time I've had one anywhere remotely near him was the time at the steakhouse. It seems Joseph William Johnson might have taken notice of me a lot more than I previously thought.

"Sure, you chop, I'll cook." He looks at the ingredients he's pulled out and then at me. "Not sure how this thing is made, so you're on your own," JW says with a look of confusion.

"I've got it. I'll make a drink then get to chopping, and tomorrow night, I'm cooking." I move to where he's placed everything on the counter for my drink. JW grazes my lower back and then goes to where he's got our dinner ready to start. I'm about to pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming. The two of us cooking together, sleeping together, this is an awful lot like living together. Yep, I definitely need to pinch myself or ask if this is a dream. Except I won't because if this isn't reality, I don't want to wake up.