MAVERICK

We arrived at the car dealer. Of course, everyone knew him.

“Mr. Winston, we have something new that you might like,” said the man with a broad smile.

“Not for me.” Lake didn’t let go of my hand. “For my wife.”

My face flamed. Shit. I should get used to it.

“Wife?” Even the dealer looked surprised. Now, I just became the person I loathed. “Congratulations.”

“Maverick, pick a car so that we can eat.” Just like that— it was like shopping for a toy car or going to a grocery store to buy a carton of milk.

“You know what, pick one for me.”

“No.” He shook his...