Chapter 15
15
MAVERICK
H olding my breath, I push my apartment door open for the women, waiting for them to pass through. Jesus, that was a lot of fucking work. Not the packing them up part. That part was easy, and it's pissing me off. Everything they have would fit into a shopping cart.
Yeah, they had a roof over their head, but nothing about their belongings, other than a few small items, felt like home. Any time I think about the two of them living in that cinder block room with no windows and no comforts, I want to punch something. Cadence should be in a king-size bed, with a dozen pillows and 1000 thread count sheets, not on a one-inch mattress on the floor.
"Well boy, you weren't lying. This place is fancy, and a hell of a lot more comfortable than the rescue," Nan says, wandering through the living room to the windows. Sliding her shoes off, Cadence follows, swallowing her gasp as she peers out. It is a killer view, the lake stretching out as far as the eye can see.
I guide them through the apartment, pointing out the different rooms and amenities, but my focus is solely on Cadence. I can't take my eyes off her, watching for any hint of a reaction. She's quiet, her expression guarded as she takes in the high ceilings, the overstuffed, low slung furniture, the expansive windows overlooking the lake.
There's a tension in her shoulders, a hesitancy in her steps. She seems uncomfortable. Out of place. Like she doesn't belong here. And it kills me. I want her to feel at home so she can relax and let her guard down.
A sliver of shame tries to worm itself into my psyche, but I shove it back. I did what I had to do. Yeah, we have an extra apartment downstairs. The gentlemanly thing to do would have been to put Cadence and her grandma in there, but that isn't going to get me any closer to her, not really. I need her here in my space, so she can get to know me. So she can realize I'm the perfect man for her.
So maybe Jonas had the right idea, asking Janey to marry him right off the bat. I'll never tell him that, though. But I do feel a little bad for the way I judged him.
I clear my throat, trying to break the silence. "So, what do you think?"
Cadence startles slightly, as if pulled from deep thought. She meets my gaze, her eyes wary. "It's... nice," she says carefully. "Very impressive."
Impressive. Not exactly the mood I was aiming for. I nod, shoving my hands in my pockets. "I want you to be comfortable here, Cadence. You and Nan. This is your home now, for as long as you need it."
There's a slight softening around her eyes. "Where will we be sleeping?"
I point to the short hallway with the bag in my hand, and Cadence heads that way, followed by Nan. The older woman gives me a wink as she passes, and I grin.
That woman is not what I would expect from a grandma. I picture plump rosy cheeks, an apron, and soft sweetness. Cadence's Nan is none of those things. I'm sure there's sweetness in there, but it's surrounded by a core of steel. The woman doesn't appear to have a shred of shyness in her, and I like her all the more for it.
"I thought you might be comfortable in the room on the right. It's got a lakeview too," I tell her, following her into the room, stopping to stare, amazed at what my family can accomplish in an hour.
Some of my brothers used their guest rooms for offices, or storage, or Lego displays. Mine were empty. So when I panic texted the family thread from the rescue, begging them to get full bedrooms set up, they did not disappoint. I can see the women's touches in the pillows and blankets on the bed, and I know my brothers scavenged one of the frames and mattresses from the extra apartment downstairs. I'm pretty sure the other bed came from Micah's guest room.
My empty bedrooms now look like they could be on the cover of some zen magazine. Nan… Cady's grandma should be very comfortable in here. "I'm sorry, I'm thinking I'm not supposed to be calling you Nan. What's your name?"
She drops onto the bed, her slim frame barely denting the covers. "Most of Cady's friends call me Nan. But if you're wanting to be all formal, you can call me Tess."
"Formal?" I ask, setting the bag inside the door. "Shouldn't I call you Mrs…."
She snorts and waves her hand. "Nah. The only people who call me Mrs. Hayes are either sticking me with needles, or trying to sell me something. You call me ma'am, you and I are going to have words. You want to have words with me boy?"
"Boy?" Maybe I should be offended at her calling me that, but the way she does it, with this little twinkle in her eye, makes me kind of like it. I'm long past boy. Hell, I don't think I was ever really a kid and I never had a grandparent in my life.
She smiles, wrinkling up her nose. "I'm seventy-three years old. Anyone under fifty is a boy to me."
"Fair enough."
"Nan? Are you alright," Cadence asks from the doorway.
"Just peachy honey. I can't wait to sleep in here. Finally, I can escape your snoring."
"Nan!," Cadence says, looking deeply offended. "Aside from the fact that I don't snore, it would be impossible for you to hear any little noise I might make over the freight train like snoring you do."
Tess sniffs, and raises her chin, attempting to look snooty, but failing thanks to her twinkling eyes. "I will have you know Cadence, that I am a lady. Your grandfather never once mentioned any such noises, and I slept next to that man for five decades."
"Grandpa was deaf," Cadence says flatly.
Is this what it's like to have a grandma? Sass, and laughter? If so, I missed out. Most of the time, I don't think about what might have been. I made my peace with my past a long time ago, and the family I ended up with is a damned good one. But aunts and uncles, grandpas and grandmas are all things I didn't even think about missing.
"You snore so loud, the neighbors called animal control, thinking we had a bear in the house," Nan says flatly, but her eyes are sparkling with mischief.
Cadence gasps, her hand flying to her chest in mock outrage. "I do not! You're the one who could wake the dead with your snoring. Remember when the neighbors called the cops, because they thought a chainsaw murderer broke into the house?"
I lean against the wall, a grin spreading across my face as I watch the two women banter back and forth. There's a warmth and ease to their relationship and to their joking that I love. It reminds me a lot of my family, actually. It's clear they've been through a lot together, but their bond has only grown stronger for it.
Finally, Nan waves her hand dismissively. "Alright, alright. Enough of this. You two scoot on out of here so I can get settled. I want to sit by that window and finish my book."
Cadence rolls her eyes affectionately. "Okay Nan, we'll leave you to your reading."
As we step out into the hallway, I turn to Cadence, my expression softening. "So, what do you think of your room?"
She looks up at me, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "It's lovely, Maverick. Really. But you know, we were fi-"
I press a finger gently against her lips, silencing her protest. They were not fine, and it doesn’t matter how many times she says it, it’s still never going to be true. "You're here now," I murmur, my gaze intense. "Let's just focus on that."
Cadence's eyes widen slightly, and I can feel the warmth of her breath against my finger. For a moment, we just stand there, the air between us charged with something unspoken. I want to pull her closer, to tell her that I want to take care of her, to make sure she never has to worry about anything again.
She's not the kind of woman who wants to be taken care of. She's strong, independent, and fiercely proud. But I'm going to do it anyway. I let my hand drop back to my side, fingers tingling, and offer her a small smile.
"Let me get the rest of your things."
"Oh, no, that's okay. I can grab?—"
"Fuck Cadence! Why can't you let me help you? What's so wrong with letting me carry your bags? Or give you a place to stay? Why does it have to be a battle with you?" I ask tiredly, leaning against the wall. There are women that will demand men take care of them. They expect it. But not her.
"It's…I…shit," she mumbles, running her hands through her hair. "I'm sorry. I'm acting like an ungrateful ass." She sighs and drops her hands, looking from Nan's door, to me. She heads down the short hallway to the kitchen, and leans against the counter, arms crossed. "It's not that I don't appreciate you putting us up. This is a huge upgrade from where we were. I know that. But…I just hate that you have to, you know? I should have been able to take care of her. We never should have had to sell the house. I just hate all of this. And I hate that we're a charity case."
"You're not a charity case Cadence. That's not what this is."
"What is it then, Mav? Why am I sleeping in my boss's guest room?"
"That's not what this fucking is. I hate that you keep putting it like that."
"How should I put it?"
"Maybe I'm a fucking human being, giving my friend a place to stay. Does it really have to be more complicated than that?"
"Yes! Because it is more complicated than that. This job matters. It's helping Nan and I get out of the hole. And you are my boss. That's a fact."
"So I'll sell the goddamned club! Or give it to Trixie. There, problem solved."
"Now who's being dramatic?"
"You don't think I'd do it?"
"Give your club away so I'm more comfortable staying with you? No, I don't think you'd do tha— wait, what are you doing?" She lunges for my arm, slapping at my phone. We wrestle for it, then it connects to a sleepy sounding Trixie.
"Boss, what's up? Everything okay?"
"Fine," I yell as Cadence's ass presses into my thighs. She's grunting, trying to grab the phone out of my hand. "I'm going to sign?—"
Giving up on grabbing the phone, Cadence turns in my arms and slaps both hands over my mouth, glaring. "Nothing Trixie. Mav's just a little out of his head right now," she says, shouting down at the phone. "Everything's fine. Sorry we bothered you on a Saturday morning."
Trixie mumbles a goodbye, and hangs up, apparently unfazed by the whole conversation. I don't move, too lost in all that is Cadence, pressed up against me. Cadence is glaring up at me, but slowly pulls back.
I put my hand on her back, and pull her back into me. "In case you're not super clear on this, let me lay it out for you. I own that club, because the people in it matter to me. That's it. It's a thing, supporting people I care about. I am not the boss. I barely think about that place day to day. I am a lawyer and an owner of Brash. That's my business. So this line you've drawn, this boss employee line? It's imaginary. In any way that really matters, I'm not your boss. So can you please drop it? Please?"
She's so close, I can see the flecks of gold in her brown eyes. Everything about her is beautiful, from her long eyelashes, and the hint of freckles on the tip of her nose. Her skin looks softer than anything I've ever seen.
"Fine," she finally says, voice a whisper. "You're not my boss. Not in any way that matters." She pats my chest, and steps back, my hands falling from her back. "I'm going to go get unpacked."
I watch her go, heart in my throat, maybe that's why I think I hear her, just before her door closes, mutter "I am so fucked."
Me too, Cady. Me too.