Chapter 30

Spade Maverick

She didn't call. So I came back.

She was on her bed in a ball, wearing my button up, her hair damp, around her.

Her eyes were puffy. A new book 3/4 completed.

I set up her new books she bought and organized them into her TBR pile, reading the back of each one to learn why they intrigued her.

All of them were dark except the one she was currently reading.

It was light, fluffy, soft.

A pillow to protect her cracked heart.

I wiped the tired from my eyes, I'd been up since 4am and it was 3am.

I went to her, pushing her hair back as I kissed her forehead.

Her eyes opened, starting with slight panic but she relaxed.

"Why are you here?" She said with a scratchy, tired voice.

"You didn't answer me. But I know you're okay."

-now.

"Oh no, I'm sorry, I answered you in my head but not-" I smiled, stopping her from speaking, from sitting up, keeping her relaxed by kissing her temple, gently pushing her back down.

"It's okay."

"But work-"

"I have people."

"You had to be gone-"

"I did enough."

"Stop trying to justify-"

"Baby. Shh."

"No! You miss to much work because of me. It's not right. You're a CEO, a big boss, I can't get in the way-"

I leaned down, placing my lips over hers.

The only peck I'll ever give.

She frowned when I smiled at her.

"I did what I had to do. I got done early, I was going to come back tomorrow morning. I had to find the person, that's what I did today, he was found, so now I have people taking care of it." I reassured.

She sighed, shutting her eyes, finally relaxing.

I ran my knuckles over her cheek, feeling her warm skin under my cool hand.

Her swollen eyes grew heavier.

"Go to sleep, Ace." I whispered.

"I think I'm ready to heal from my mom." She whispered back, but so soft I could barely hear.

"How do you want to do that?" I asked.

"I'll figure it out." She replied and I smiled, watching her fall back asleep.

I waited there, touching her face, her hair, her jaw, fulfilling my needs of contact, forgiving myself for feeling guilt of not being here sooner.

I called Davis.

"Boss?"

"Just kill him and get it over with. I can't be back. But sell whatever you have to, to get my money back. I'll pay you a fourth."

"Of course boss. And what do I tell Mr. Lincoln about your meeting tomorrow?"

"Tell him it's either cancelled or, he can get on a zoom call with me at 10 am tomorrow. I have more important things to tend to. Thank you Davis. I appreciate you." I hung up.

I looked at her again, giving in to having to leave.

I'd see her tomorrow, she was okay. She was here. She wasn't far.

♥️♠️♦️♣️

I hated this call. I hated this man.

The door opened and I saw a sleepy Ace walking to me in my shirt and sweats, the guard following behind her to make sure she got inside safely and I smiled at her.

He nodded at me when she was inside and he shut the door.

"They're up my butt. I put on pants." She mumbled.

"Excuse me? Maverick is that who you left for? Are you joking?" My head pulsed from his voice when all I wanted to hear was my tired girl.

"My life is none of your concern. Now, continue with the presentation." I muted my mic and opened my arms.

"Will he see?"

"No." I pulled her into my arms, on my lap.

She pushed her face into my neck.

"I missed you even for a day." She laughed softly, the smell of mint and her shampoo intoxicating my senses.

I pushed my hands under the shirt, feeling the bare skin of her side.

My thumb traced under her breast.

"Separation anxiety? I don't think that's very healthy in a relationship." I teased.

"That's okay. I'm independent with a side of man power." She moved to straddle me and I rubbed her back as she laid on my shoulder.

I unmuted my microphone.

"You have a good arrangement going. Maybe more woman because you have too many men working a restaurant. I want diversity. I want comfort among all consumers. I want availability when special requests are made. But otherwise, good going." I said.

"Thank you. Thank you very much-" he paused sounding shocked.

"I will definitely work on that. Thank you for your time." He said and hung up.

"People are so scared of you." She chuckled.

"Eh."

I sighed, putting my nose in her hair, smelling the shampoo she wore.

If I could stay here forever I would.

She moved, wrapping her arms around me tightly, holding me to her.

"Are you alright, principessa?" I asked.

"I am. I'm glad I got a reminder. I needed it so I didn't hang onto false hopes of something that never could be." She shrugged.

My heart broke a little that she even had to acknowledge that.

"How are your parents?" She asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Are they good?"

"They were. Absolutely." I nodded.

"Past tense?"

"Cliche movie and book dramatics but they died on a cruise. Not the titanic." I joked to keep it light.

"Hold long ago?" She asked.

"I was 20, so about 6?" I answered.

"I'm sorry." She whispered.

"It's fine."

"No it isn't. You may feel that way but it isn't. A loss is a loss no matter what form Spade. You lost people you care about and love, it's not fine." She looked at me, her dark eyes sincere.

I gave a sad smile, sighing, a thousand pounds on my chest.

"It's okay to not be okay." She grabbed my face between her hands and I felt myself falling into a pool of sadness.

"Tell me about them." She said.

I chewed my cheek.

"Uhm, my mom, god she was-" I felt my eyes sting as I cleared my throat.

"Gorgeous. No one more beautiful than she was, to me and my father at least. The healthiest relationship I've ever observed. My father put her first, showing me what love was supposed to be. He adored her, bought her everything she wanted and more. He would open the door for her so I would as a child, I copied everything he did so I could be just like him and see her smile." I smiled, recalling the time we fought going into a restaurant when I was 8 about who held the door for mom.

He held it, I got to hold her hand through it.

She smiled at me endearingly, grabbing my hands and holding them.

"She was so nurturing, made sure everyone was full, satisfied, happy, she had beautiful blonde hair, it was died that way, and my father would do her touch ups, her nails, he wanted her to depend on him and she would, she knew it made him happy. She always got me a candy at stores, unable to say no, my father would accuse her of spoiling me, but she'd laugh and tell him to be quiet and he always listened." I wish I had them to meet her.

"My father was a provider. In every way imaginable. He was my mentor, my teacher, my biggest inspiration. He taught me everything. About love, being a teenage boy, manhood, even fatherhood although I never really wanted to be one he believed all men had those instincts."

"What did he teach you?" She kissed my knuckles.

"About women. What transactional relationships are and how they never make anyone happy. I say that because I always think about his little lessons when I'm with you." I shrugged.

"Tell me. What is it?" She was so interested.

"Are you trying to make me just feel-"

"Yes, but I want to hear you talk to me. I want to know them like you do." She leaned forward, kissing my cheek.

"In marriage, a lot of them fail if they only lust the person. Which is often the guy pushing sexual intimacy on the woman. Or when the woman needs a massage or cuddles, the man expects sex after. That's why a lot of them die out and fail." I explained.

"So what's healthy? What's right?" She asked.

"Slow foreplay for one, most people rush it, that means there's a disconnect, we need to be able to be comfortable with ourselves, moving at a slow pace of passion and intimate understanding. Second, is understanding the difference between transactional sex, and intimate sex. One is satisfying human urges without vulnerability. The other worships one another, the desire is driven on devotion, it's something to adore all mind, body, and soul. And I believe that's how my parents stayed together 27 years. That's why I don't screw around with woman. I'm not that man. I was taught better, raised knowing right from wrong, and I want what they had with one another, with you." I whispered the last bit and she smiled.

"Yeah?" She asked.

"Yes. That's why I've never overly pressed on sex or moving in or showering together. I'm here when you're ready. But I'm not going to decide that for you." I grabbed her chin and she gave me such a sweet grin.

"Spade?"

"Yes, my love."

"I am madly in love with you."

And my heart froze.