Page 8 of The Maverick


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“You been writing?” he asked finally.

She glanced at him, suspicious. “Yes. Obviously.”

“Still selling out releases?”

“Every time.”

He nodded. “Good.”

Silence again. This time, heavier.

“You been watching my career, Hawke?” she asked, voice too light.

“I’ve been watching everything.”

Her laugh was low and humorless. “Right. Because you never walk away from a mission.”

His grip tightened on the wheel. “You’re not a mission.”

She didn’t argue, and that was almost worse.

When they turned onto the gravel road leading to his house, she leaned forward slightly, taking it in. The two-story timber cabin rose out of the trees like it had grown organically from the scenic countryside itself—rugged, reinforced, and unapologetically private. No neighbors. No passersby. Just them and the woods and the wind.

“You still living like a man on a watchlist,” she muttered.

“I still live smart,” he corrected.

“You still live alone.”

“I still live prepared.”

He parked and cut the engine. Vanessa didn’t move. She looked out at the tree line, the faint glow of security lights tucked into camouflaged posts, the slow rise of the hills beyond.

“You get bored out here?” she asked.

“No.”

“Must be easy, keeping everything under control when no one else is around.”

He turned his head, met her gaze.

“I don’t need silence to keep control. I need focus. You coming here doesn’t change that.”

She blinked. “Doesn’t it?”

“No.”

He stepped out and walked around the truck. Opened her door again. She hesitated just long enough to register it as defiance, then climbed out.

Inside the house, she stopped just past the threshold, scanning the space like a wary cat in unfamiliar territory.

The open floor plan exposed everything. Kitchen, dining, living room, all anchored around a massive stone fireplace. Polished wood floors. Warm lighting. Clean lines. Nothing flashy, but nothing soft.

It was Hawke’s world. No clutter. No chaos. Every object in its place.

She dropped her purse on the entry bench, arms still crossed.

“Bedroom’s upstairs. End of the hall on the right.”