Page 69 of The Maverick's Homecoming

He threw back the covers and reached for his pants.

When he opened the door, both kittens darted in. He scooped them up, one in either hand, and followed his nose to the kitchen, where he found Kenzie standing at the stove. Her back was to him. He took a minute to enjoy the sight.

She wore bib overalls and a white T-shirt. All that shiny hair was gathered into a single thick braid and tied with a bit of green ribbon. Her slim feet were bare and she had one hand at the small of her back.

As he watched, she rubbed the base of her spine, no doubt easing the ache from the weight of the baby. At this point, her pregnancy was obvious even from behind.

A strange blend of emotions rolled through him. Sadness for the baby they’d lost, joy for the little one she would hold in her arms before the year was out. Anger at that ex of hers for leaving her alone to raise their child without a dad.

And there was a sense of rightness, too—that he, Finn, would be here for her and for her baby the way he’d never had a chance to be for the child they had lost.

It was a good thing that he’d come home. And not just because he was happy here. Not just because he had a chance to make a life he would take pride in and a chance to contribute to the rebirth of the town he’d once left behind.

Most of all, he wanted a life with Kenzie. He saw that so clearly now. He wasn’t a kid anymore, wasn’t confused by his father’s overbearing demands and his own need to somehow prove himself in a big, flashy way.

He knew what mattered now and he knew what he wanted.

Kenzie turned from the cooktop with a glowing smile. “There you are, sleepyhead.”

“Mornin’.” He set down the cats. They darted for the cat tree in the corner. It had scratching posts, padded shelves and a kitty lounge on the bottom level.

When he turned back to her, she was still smiling…at him. It was a smile that looked like happiness. Like she was honestly glad to find him there in her kitchen with her on a Saturday morning.

“Feeling a little better about things today?” she asked.

“Yeah.”Because of you, he thought. “Thanks for putting up with me.”

“Anytime.” That look in her eyes? It was the same look she used to give him years ago—before they lost their baby, before he left her behind to chase his big dream. It was a look that said he was everything. Thattheywere everything together. Because they were forever, Kenzie and Finn, and nothing and no one could tear them apart.

Yeah, he’d shattered her trust back then, stomped on it but good. And then she’d met Tate and got her heart blown to bits a second time. She’d made it crystal clear to him that she was done with love and romance, that she wouldn’t try again with any man. She and her baby would be a family, the two of them.

But things could change, couldn’t they? Broken trust could be rebuilt. He was not the messed-up kid he’d been back then. Surely, she could see that she could trust him now. He wasn’t going anywhere. He would be here for both her and the baby. She could count on him now.

Was it possible that if he asked her now, she would agree to take a chance on him again?

* * *

“This is so good,” he said a few minutes later when he sat across from her at the breakfast table. “Thank you.”

“Enjoy.” She gave him that smile, the one that made the world brighter.

They talked about last night’s game. In daylight, the loss didn’t seem quite so hard to bear. There would be other games and the Titans would win again.

Top of mind for Finn was his injured player. “I want go visit Sean,” he said.

Kenzie sipped her coffee. “He’ll be hospitalized for a while, maybe a week, possibly longer. It’s all going to depend on how he responds to treatment. You should wait a few days to drive out there. Your best bet is to call Sean’s parents and say how much you’d like to go see him once Sean is ready for visitors.”

A week, maybe longer?It wasn’t a surprise, exactly. Finn knew from personal experience how tough the first days after a serious injury could be. Somehow, though, hearing Kenzie say the truth right out loud had him worried sick about Sean all over again.

“Don’t do that,” she commanded.

He regarded her warily. “Don’t do what?”

“Don’t start imagining the worst. Sean’s at St. Vincent Regional. It’s a level one trauma facility. They know what they’re doing there. He’s in good hands, believe me.”

“Well, that’s something, at least.”

“Stop worrying. Check with the parents, find out how he’s doing.”