Page 87 of Specter Bred

I turned my head toward her.

Maeve’s eyes were closed, her dark hair tangled around her face, and there was a softness to her expression I almost never got to see. There was no scowl, no challenge, and no anger.

Just Maeve, relaxed.

I liked this version of her too.

Maybe more than I should.

Before I could decide whether saying that out loud would get me punched, the mattress shifted. Maeve stood without a word, crossed the room, and pulled a fresh set of pajamas from her dresser.

I propped myself up on one elbow as she changed.

Then she walked straight past me. She reached the bunks and grabbed the ladder. I frowned.

“Hey. Where you going, Firecracker?”

Maeve glanced over her shoulder.

I patted the empty spot beside me. “There’s a perfectly good bed right here.”

Her gaze moved from my hopeful face to my hand on the mattress and back again.

“Of course the Boy Scout wants to cuddle,” she snorted.

I laughed. “You say that like it’s a character flaw.”

“It is.”

“Ouch.” I pressed a hand over my heart. “So that’s it? You use me and then abandon me?”

Maeve climbed another rung.

“Cold, Archer. Really cold.”.

“Goodnight, Hayes.”

“Goodnight, Firecracker. Sweet dreams. Think of me.”

She rolled her eyes and disappeared onto the top bunk.

I grinned at the ceiling.

Less than five minutes later, I heard the slow, steady rhythm of her breathing. Maeve was fast asleep.

Meanwhile, sleep wanted absolutely nothing to do with me.

I lay on my back, staring at the underside of her bunk, hands folded behind my head as I replayed the night from beginning to end. Maeve kissing me. That towel hitting the floor. Her laughing at my stupid iced-tea line. The way she looked at me when she thought I wasn’t paying attention, like maybe she was just as surprised by whatever this thing between us had become as I was.

Because no matter how many times I replayed it, I kept coming back to the same question.

How the hell had I managed this?

Me. Samuel Hayes. Farm boy. Beta soldier. Certified, card-carrying Boy Scout who still called his mama every Sunday and had somehow spent the last few months falling hard for the most intimidating woman I’d ever met.

Out of everyone she could have wanted, how the hell had a guy like me managed to catch the attention of a goddess like Maeve Archer?

Chapter 12: Nolan "Grizzly" Graves