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“What about him?”

“I don’t want you to think I’m trying to…” I stop. Because I don’t know how to say this without making it sound awful.

Maverick straightens. “Trying to what?”

“Take somebody’s place.”

His expression changes. Instantly. The faint smile disappears. His jaw tightens. “She left.”

I swallow. “I know.”

“She gave up her place.”

“Maverick.”

“I’m not confused about what happened.”

“I didn’t say you were.”

“She left him.” His voice is hard now. Almost angry. Not at me.

I don’t think. But the change is startling.

“She had a sixteen-month-old son, and she decided she didn’t want the life that came with him. She doesn’t matter.”

What matters is the little boy sleeping on the other side of the door. And the man standing in front of me who clearly still doesn’t understand how anyone could walk away from him.

From either of them.

My heart squeezes again.

“I don’t expect you to be her,” Maverick says.

“Okay.”

“I don’t want you to be her.”

Something warm spreads through my chest. It’s a strange thing to feel relieved about. I wasn’t trying to replace Shiloh’s mother. Not exactly.

But I have wondered if Maverick expects me to behave a certain way. If Shiloh will eventually resent me for being here. If I’m allowed to love him as much as I already do.

Maverick drags a hand over his jaw.

“What you’re doing with Shiloh…” He stops.

I wait.

He looks uncomfortable. Which is interesting.

This man has been home for approximately six hours and I’ve already determined that he’s not someone who spends much time being uncomfortable.

He seems more like the sort of man who makes other people uncomfortable.

“Thank you,” he finally says.

My mouth softens.

“You don’t have to keep thanking me.”