““I’m not what you want.” The words came out strangled because a lump had formed in Maia’s throat. Jack’s brows drew together in a frown. “What the fuck, Maia?” She cleared her throat and sipped on her wine before continuing, “I’m not what you want. You want a quiet life. The white picket fence. The woman who’s safe at home. That’s what you want.” Jack looked at her steadily, his expression inscrutable. “You’re right,” he said, and Maia felt her heart break a little. “That’s what I want. I want to take care of my woman, I want that quiet life.” Jack leaned closer and cupped Maia’s face gently with one hand, using his thumb to tip her chin up to him. “Babe, that’s what I want, but you are what I need.””
