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The bartender who saved me in more ways than I can count.

He pulls away, breaking the kiss, but not releasing me. “I’m sorry, I⁠—”

I don’t let him finish before I pull him back down to my mouth. He moves us, and something hard presses against my back. His hands leave my face and lower back, but the intensity of the kiss only picks up steam.

Like a storm that builds on itself.

Maverick pulls back from me, so I open my eyes, breathing ragged. Both of his palms are planted on the door on either side of my head. “Keeping my hands off of you is impossible. I’m trying to be a gentleman, but Sadie, you drive me wild.” He reaches down and brushes the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip.

“I feel the same as you,” I reply. “And I’m not entirely sure what I should do about it.”

“Stay with me,” he whispers. “Don’t go back to Georgia. Please, Sadie. You brought color into my life, and I don’t want to go back to black and white.”

I reach up and cup his face. “I’m not going anywhere,” I say, surprised by the strength of my own voice. Because no matter how much I miss those in my old life, my new path is here.

With Maverick.

And I won’t trade that for anything.

MAVERICK

By morning, I have successfully gotten absolutely zero sleep. Between that life-altering kiss last night and the couple she used to work for showing up, my mind was reeling from the time I walked her to the door of her apartment and kissed her goodnight to when I finally gave up trying to sleep and called Ryker to come watch over the bar—and Sadie—while I ran out for things I need for breakfast.

Now, it’s eight forty-five in the morning, and I’m cracking eggs into a bowl, waiting for the love of my life to have breakfast with the family she used to consider her own.

Love of my life. When did that happen? Sadie Eaton was a stranger to me just over a week ago, and now I cannot imagine a single moment of my day that is not planned around her.

Love.

Wow. Who would have thought?

Will it last, though?

“I’m not going anywhere.” Even though she spoke those words, the fear is still very, very real. What if she decides she doesn’t want to stay here? What if she realizes that caring for those kids is more important than being with me?

“Morning.”

I drop an egg on the ground and turn toward her. Sadie is standing in the doorway, wearing jeans and a baggy sweatshirt, a grin on her face.

“Morning.”

She comes into the kitchen, stepping right over the broken egg on the ground, to grip the front of my shirt and pull me down for a searing kiss.

There might be a lot of things I don’t know, but one thing I know with absolute certainty is that the feel of her mouth on mine is something I’ll never get enough of.

She pulls away, then grabs some paper towels to clean up the egg.

“I can get that. Leave it.”

“Absolutely not. I’m here and perfectly capable of cleaning up a broken egg.” She tosses it into the trash, then sanitizes the floor before washing her hands.

If she leaves, it’ll wreck me.

But was it really fair of me to ask her to stay?

I’ve just finished cracking the eggs into the pancake batter when Sadie finishes refilling my coffee and pouring some of her own.

After washing my hands, I carry the bowl to the island and retrieve a whisk. “I read some of your Bible this morning,” I tell her. “You left it down here. I hope that was okay.”