𝓒𝓵𝓪𝓻𝓪

Maverick met me at the park.

"Hey," he smiled, the dimples popping into place briefly as he sat down beside me on the bench. He was dressed in jeans and boots, accompanied by a navy blue plaid that rested on his shoulders and against his torso in an attractive way.

I forced myself to look away. "Hi," and ran a hand along my opposite arm.

"It's been a while," he grinned briefly. "I didn't want to do anything too soon after... that... And Violet doesn't seem like she likes me too well," a breathy laugh escaped his lips.

A smile stretched across my face, "she didn't really like the fact that I was agreeing to meet you again."

"I would imagine," he smiled, glancing at my hair and dress. "You look really pretty, by the way."

A rush of heat climbed up my neck. "Thank you."

"Anyway, shall we?" He held out a hand, calloused and large. He noticed me staring, and a small smile crossed his lips. "I don't bite."

I looked back up at him. His eyes were kind and warm, a happiness that seemed impenetrable across his features. I placed my hand into his, allowing him to lead me through the park back to the street with its restaurants and small shops along the road.

We walked into the coffee shop. I saw past coworkers who merely smiled and waved at me. The manager - who was at the register - was the only one who spoke and asked how I was.

Maverick ordered, and once we received our drinks - his was his usual and mine a hot chocolate - we went back outside into the cold air.

I took a sip and felt the warmth of it slide down into my stomach.

"So, have you and Violet always lived here?" He asked.

I sucked in a breath, "um... no. We... We lived in Arkansas for a while," I lied, intertwining my hands together at my front. "And then came - or moved - here." I looked up at him nervously, hoping he didn't ask anymore.

He looked at me a moment, and I feared he could tell I was lying. "I hope you don't mind me asking this, but what about your parents? Do you..." he laughed, "I don't really know how to ask this without sounding -"

"It's okay," I interrupted, grateful he hadn't noticed."I... I knew my mom..." Ethel entered my thoughts, "I don't know my dad."

"Really? I'm sorry to hear that."

I looked at him, glancing between his eyes and his mouth. Stop looking, Clara.

"It's okay, really." I drew in a breath of air, letting it fill my lungs before exhaling. "Have you always been here in Wisconsin?"

"Yeah, my whole life, actually." He looked at me, a small smile on his face. "So, where do you work now that you've quit at the coffee shop?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but he beat me. "I promise I won't go in wherever your new place is every day," he laughed.

"Oh," I smiled, "um, well, I work with Violet at that flower shop now. I... I really like it," I said truthfully.

"Really? That's great. I'm happy for you." His phone suddenly started ringing, a sound like the quick siren from a police car.

"Excuse me a minute. The chief," he explained, dragging out his phone.

I watched as he walked away and then turned towards the street, hearing the muffle of a growing engine.

It wasn't until the small black vehicle neared that I realized it was Owen on his motorcycle.