“What kind of music do you listen to?” he asked.
“Ah what—?”
“Let me guess. You strike me as a fan of R&B?” Maverick asked.
“I like classical.”
“Are you serious?” Maverick asked.
“Is that a problem?” Delilah replied.
“No, but, well, classical and R&B are uhm, close, I guess,” he stumbled in his reply.
“No, they aren’t,” she chuckled.
Maverick chuckled too.
“Rhythm and Blues is sweeter. You prefer Mozart over Miguel?”
“Miguel, who?” Delilah asked. “We need to turn up here at the light and go South.”
Maverick hit his blinker and made the turn nice and easy the way she preferred. “What about Jazz?” he asked.
“I like Jazz,” she mumbled.
“Me too,” he mumbled.
“Really?” she had her doubts.
“Miles Davis. You know him. He was married to Cicely Tyson. That’s my guy.”
“Yea, I know him. No. I don’t know him, I mean, I don’t know his music, sorry I’m confused right now.”
“Do you play an instrument?” he asked.
“The violin.”
“Interesting,” he said.
“I’ve been playing since I was six. I started playing the harp when I was twelve. It’s my preference.” She looked over at him. “Wait? How did you guess I play instruments?”
“You like classical music. I imagine that it started because you played some kind of instrument like the piano. Plus, I saw the harp in your bedroom. That was... Uhm, interesting.”
“Why?” she smiled.
“You know why,” he cut her a sly smile. Maverick’s gaze was just above the top of his sunglasses before he returned his eyes to the road. Delilah took his refocus on the act of driving as the opportunity to stare at his handsome profile. His friendly side was far sexier than she realized.
“I don’t know why. Tell me? What’s interesting about me playing the harp?” She teased.
“You’re beautiful, smart, and the kind of woman that will get out of bed in the morning and play the harp while her husband lays in bed dreaming of her. I find that interesting.”
She laughed. “Seriously? You associated the harp with sex?”
“Huh?” Maverick gasped. “No. I didn’t mean...”
“Yes, you did,” she teased.
Maverick smiled and conceded once he’d considered it thoroughly.
“Thank you, Maverick,” Delilah said. “I think.”
Maverick glanced up to the rearview mirror. He smiled even wider. “Oh. Now I get it. He’s sleep. Already?”
Delilah looked to the backseat. Noah had, indeed, drifted to sleep. “Yes, he is. My baby does that whenever we get in the car. He gets all worked up and keeps pointing to the scenery out of his window, and then poof, he’s gone. I used to drive him around when he was a baby to settle him down. It soothes him.”
“I understand. It’s beautiful here,” Maverick leaned forward on the steering wheel and gazed up at the sky. “These mountains. They are something serious. Ever go up into one for skiing?”
“No. That mountain is called Falcon’s Peak. Been there a few times. Hard to drive to in the winter, especially around this time of year, you have to take a helicopter to reach the Mayfair.”
“Mayfair? Why does that sound familiar?”
“Yes, Mayfair. Jaxon Price and Yasar Fikrit. Remember them? The people who exposed Charles and me when they were the actual monsters experimenting on vulnerable women at Eden’s Promise.”
Maverick fell silent.
“My friend Goodiva has gone missing there,” Delilah mumbled.
“Missing?” Maverick repeated. “In the snow?”
“Never mind,” she sighed. “It’s a long story, and I don’t want to get upset.”
Maverick seem to agree. For a moment, they just rode in the car in silence. Delilah preferred it. Delilah was mad at herself for her strange behavior. She had to admit she was awkward with men. Never understood how to date. Never could pick up on the social cues. Delilah married young. Often she pretended not to notice the advances of men other than her husband. Jefferson’s confession of having feelings for her shouldn’t have taken her by surprise, but it did, and it ruined everything. They were great friends, colleagues, and now they were nothing.
“Turn right at the next light. The store is three miles down on your left,” she said.
“Can you play some classical music for me? I promise not to fall asleep behind the wheel,” he joked.
“You sure do joke a lot.” She turned on the radio to her favorite satellite channel.
“Is something wrong with a joke every now and then?” he asked.
“I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just that when you were in New York, you weren’t this friendly. Actually, you were quite angry and disrespectful,” she said.
“You weren’t a bed of roses yourself, lady,” Maverick mumbled.
“True. I wasn’t there to make a friend,” Delilah reminded him.
“That’s right. I’m your enemy. Is that what you still think? Should I spend the rest of my time in our visit scowling at you?” Maverick glanced over at her. Delilah didn’t dare look over at him. She kept her eyes trained forward.
“I saw your history with the police force, and my mind went to some dark places,” Delilah admitted. “With a past like yours that is filled with grief and violence, I didn’t expect you to be a man with a sense of humor.”
“I got my sense of humor from my past,” he said. “Walking through people’s suffering and my own gives you a different perspective. You have to find a way to keep your sanity. Trust me, I lost mine a couple of times.”
There was sincerity in his truth, and she respected it. Delilah was an attorney. In her younger days, she wanted to be a civil rights attorney. The type of cop he was on paper was the type of cops that disregarded black and brown people all over the country. At least that’s what she thought of police that bent the law to serve their purposes. That’s why she respected her best friend, Queen, so much. Queen wore her badge with honor, and she set the example. Not men like him. Delilah glanced over to Maverick. Should she fire off the questions burning in her mind? It was hard not to be swayed by his handsomeness. Maverick wore a lambskin lined black leather jacket, black gloves, and dark sunglasses. His gaze cut over to her, and she was caught looking away. Maverick wasn’t her type. No matter how much her pulse raced over the smell of his aftershave, no matter how handsome he looked, no matter how deep his voice sounded when he spoke.
This man wasn’t her type.
Maverick did look nice to her. She had to admit.
Maverick found a parking space after five minutes of circling the lot. There were so many cars. It made Maverick feel as if everyone in the small town had come to the store at the same time to shop.
“What is happening?” he frowned.
“I don’t know?” she mumbled. “I heard on the news people were stocking up, but I’ve never seen this many at the grocery store.”
Maverick glanced back at Noah. The tot rubbed his eyes. The spell that the moving car had cast over him had broken. “Hi, there, buddy?”