A Good Yarn (Blossom Street #2)(101)

She nearly faltered when she saw his welcoming smile. All she’d done for weeks was harangue him with her bitterness. She felt such guilt, such an awareness of opportunities missed. Seeing him now, knowing he was dying, she burst into uncharacteristic tears. She couldn’t help it. Her shoulders quaked and she covered her mouth with both hands.

Her emotion had an immediate effect on him. Maverick wrapped his arms around her and brought her into the apartment. He closed the door with one foot, still hugging her.

“Elise, Elise,” he whispered, cradling her face between his large hands. “What’s wrong with you? My gutsy girl doesn’t weep.”

“I…feel…so…bad.” His sympathy, his soft crooning, only made her feel worse.

“About what?” His gaze searched hers.

“Everything—oh, Maverick, I’ve been so bitter and so spiteful toward you.”

“I gave you plenty of reasons.”

“I was never the right wife for you and—”

“Nor was I the right husband for you.”

“I love you,” she sobbed. At one time she’d tried to deny it, but she loved Maverick, heart and soul. When she’d learned about his visit, she hadn’t wanted to see him because she’d recognized the truth—and it had terrified her.

Gathering her close, Maverick kissed the top of her head. “I’ve always loved you. Always.”

She looked up at him through tear-filled eyes. “I know, but—”

“Why do you think I never remarried?”

She’d wondered and had never wanted to ask. His question implied that he’d had opportunities, and maybe other romances; she had no difficulty believing it. But none of that mattered. Not even the gambling mattered anymore.

“All those wasted years…all those empty, empty years,” she said brokenly. “Now…now it’s too late…. Aurora told me—she told me you’re…dying.” It was difficult to say the word.

A deep sigh expanded his chest. “I was afraid she would.”

“No, no, I needed to know.” But she’d made it impossible for Maverick to tell her himself.

“I’m so sorry.” Her sobbing increased. She couldn’t tolerate the fact that she was about to lose Maverick so soon after finding him again.

His hold on her tightened. “I’m not dead yet.”

If she hadn’t been immersed in grief she might have smiled at his wry tone.

She took a long, shuddering breath. “I know…but I regret so much. I’m not sure where to start.”

“We both have regrets, my darling.”

Elise clung to him. That he could refer to her as his “darling” after the way she’d treated him said a great deal about this man she loved. This forgiving, passionate and often reckless man. A man who saw the best in others, who laughed at himself—a man who loved her.

“I…do want to move in with you,” Elise announced. “If you’ll have me.”

She felt his smile before she saw it. “I’d rather you married me again,” he said.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes.”

He tilted her chin and gazed deeply into her eyes. “I’ll probably keep gambling as long as I’m able to.”

She agreed with a half nod. Gambling was an important part of his life. She loved Maverick; loving him meant accepting him for the man he was.

“I’m sorry you lost the poker tournament,” she whispered. “For your sake.”

“You saw me on television?”

She shook her head. “Aurora and the boys told me.”

“Second place wasn’t so bad.”

His spirits were unusually high. “You have a good attitude about it,” she murmured. But then, he’d always been an optimist.

“Let’s get married as soon as we can,” he said. “Next month? Maybe over Thanksgiving?”

When she nodded, he said, “We have a lot to do to get ready for the wedding. I want to buy you a diamond ring.”

“Maverick, no! “

He frowned. “Are we going to start our marriage with an argument?”

“No, but a plain gold band will do nicely.”

He shook his head. “Let me take care of that. I also want to hire Bethanne to arrange everything for us.”

“I don’t know if she’s equipped to manage that yet,” Elise said, although she was grateful he’d thought of her friend.

Elise offered no resistance when Maverick silenced her with a kiss. In his arms, she had no doubts or questions. If he wanted to hire Bethanne, then that was what they’d do. After all, their wedding was really just a party—wasn’t that what Bethanne had said about weddings? A celebration. She smiled at the image of a dinosaur-shaped wedding cake or Alice in Wonderland decorations.

“Yes, let’s ask Bethanne,” she agreed. “And I’ll have Aurora be my maid of honor,” Elise said, arms around his middle and smiling up at him.

“I want you to invite your knitting group.”

“What about my reading club?” she asked.

“As many of your friends as you desire.”

She frowned. All this expense was an extravagance. “It isn’t necessary,” she insisted one last time. “I’d be happy just to—”