Chapter 16
16
CADENCE
I will not kiss my boss. I will not lick my boss. I will not stick my hand down my boss's pants.
The mantra's been working for me for weeks, but it's not anymore, because as Maverick so clearly pointed out, he's not really my boss. Which is completely unfortunate, because that artificial line I had drawn between us is gone. Now normally, I'd be ecstatic about that, but now he's not my boss, he's my roommate.
He's also my grandma's roommate.
"Oh my God," I groan, "what did I get myself into?"
My back is still tingling from where he touched me. He's so warm, and it felt like his hand spanned my whole back. It took every little bit of restraint I had left to stop myself from rubbing up against him like a cat in heat.
What the hell do I do now?
Keep my distance. That's the only option. Sure, I'll sleep here, but most of my time will be at the rescue, and at work. Keeping busy is the ticket to stopping myself from making a move.
Keep my distance. That's the only option. I repeat the words to myself like a lifeline as I unpack. It's a solid plan. I can do this. I'll just focus on work and the rescue, and minimize my time here. Totally doable.
A knock at the door startles me out of my thoughts. I smooth my hair, trying to calm the butterflies in my stomach as I open the door to my new roommate.
He's standing there, looking unfairly handsome in a fresh white shirt and jeans. "Hey. I um…just wanted to check in, see how you're settling in."
"Oh, um, great. Yeah, it's great. Thank you again, for all of this." I gesture vaguely at the beautiful room, trying to ignore how close he is. He smells so good.
"You're sure you don't need anything? Are there enough towels in the bathroom?" I nod, and he clears his throat, dipping his head, looking at me through his eyelashes. I grip the doorframe a little harder. "Good. Great. Also, I wanted to invite you to family dinner tonight. John's cooking, and anything he makes is amazing."
Oh my god, that sounds amazing. Even though we had family dinners, it wasn't like the movies. There were only three of us, and as much as I loved my grandparents, it still felt kind of lonely. Distance, remember? "Oh, that's so kind, but I should get back to the rescue to feed-"
"Nonsense!" Nan's voice rings out behind Maverick. I peek around him to see her emerging from her bedroom, a familiar shit disturber twinkle in her eye. She'd get that same look before she'd embarrass me at school pick up, or go next door to rile up our neighbor about growing drug flowers, threatening to call the cops.
She knew the cops didn't give a shit about a fifty year old woman growing poppies, but Nan had it out for that woman ever since she moved in. I'm still not sure what set her off. Either way, I learned early to stay on Nan's good side. "We'd love to join you for dinner, wouldn't we, Cady?"
I stare at her, mentally asking her to back down. When she just stares back at me, dead eyed, I cave. "Nan, I'm not sure-"
But she's already taking Maverick's arm, patting his hand. "Such a gentleman, inviting us to dinner. Lead the way, dear."
Maverick grins, clearly charmed by Nan's antics. I have no choice but to follow as he escorts her out of the apartment and towards the elevator.
As we head up one floor to the penthouse, I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. It's just dinner. With Maverick's family. Where I'm also living now. In his home.
In a fucking penthouse.
I've never put my napkin in my lap at a meal. I have tucked it into my shirt more than once. I should not be allowed in a penthouse, ever.
Nan damn sure shouldn't.
As the elevator doors open, Nan whistles. "Well hell, you boys sure are stinking rich."
Oh boy. This is going to be interesting.
What kind of madhouse have we gotten ourselves into?
Fifteen minutes ago, when we first arrived at the penthouse, I thought dinner with Maverick's family would be a formal thing, with crystal and multiple forks.
Okay, that's not entirely true. I met these men for the first time when they came to the rescue drunk, and then ran amok. But I chalked that up to the booze. Same with the other night at the club, and Maverick up the pole. Clearly, they're not the most refined bunch, but still, I pictured something other than…this.
As far as I can tell, no one's been drinking, and it's still chaos. Nan and I curled up on the couch to get out of the way, but thank god we still have a great view of the commotion.
Evie's little girl, Mia, who can't be more than four years old, is gleefully chasing Colton around the spacious living room, a tiny hamster clutched in her hands. Colton, probably the biggest man I've ever seen in person, is red-faced and practically shrieking as he tries to escape the giggling little girl. He's a hell of a lot taller, so it should be easy for him to run away, but he's so busy looking back to make sure she hasn't caught him, that he's banging into things.
"It's for your own good, Colton," Nick calls out, laughing and lifting his beer out of the way as Mia flies by. "Keep going, Mia. Once he gets used to the hamsters, you'll be able to have one at home."
Maverick, standing next to the couch, is shaking his head, but he hasn't made a move to help. He's trying to act cool, chewing on one lip to keep from laughing, but I'm onto him.
I glance over at Nan, who's practically wheezing with laughter. "Did you ever imagine this is where we'd end up when we woke up this morning?" I ask her, my own laughter bubbling up.
"Oh, honey," she manages between giggles, "I couldn't have dreamed up something this entertaining if I tried!" She waves Maverick over, patting the couch between us. He sits carefully, the cushion giving under his weight, grinning when Nan slides toward him. He carefully rights her, keeping a hand braced on her back until she's stable.
"What exactly is happening here, young man? Why is King Kong running from that little sweetheart?" He is massive, and admittedly, the whole scene is ridiculous. A three hundred-pound mountain of a man running from a forty-pound little girl.
Maverick chuckles. "When we were kids, he had an unfortunate run in with a mouse. It got stuck in his sleeping bag. Since then, he's been terrified of anything little and furry. And that little sweetheart is his daughter."
"Oh my, is she trying to torture him?"
"No, she is sweet, really. Not above scaring him a little bit, but sweet. But this is my brother's doing. Jonas," he says, pointing to a squinty-eyed Jonas in the middle of the room, "has this idea that if Colton's exposed to his fear enough, he'll get over it."
"It doesn't appear to be working," Nan muses, laughter lacing her words.
As Mia finally manages to corner Colton by the bookshelves, holding the hamster up to his face triumphantly, Colton screams like a rabid beaver bit him in the dick. My hands fly up to cover my ears. So do Mia's, which would be unfortunate for the hamster, but luckily one of the other brothers, Kade I think, is there to catch it. Unfortunately for Colton, Kade's even more ruthless than Mia.
Kade's holding the hamster up to Colton's face. Mistake, since Colton's got long thick legs, and he uses them to kick Kade right in the nards.
Now Kade's screaming and Colton uses the distraction to bolt for the stairs, then he's gone.
Kade groans and mutters 'Fuck' as he drops to his knees. "Jonas, your fucking plan fucking sucks."
Jonas, hands on hips, scowls, toward the door Colton escaped from. "This was not my plan. If you remember, I suggested tying him down. We could control the variables that way." Sighing, he moves to Kade, and carefully takes the hamster from him, placing it on his own shoulder, then kneels next to Mia, who still has her hands pressed to her ears.
He taps her nose, and she carefully drops her hands. "Are you okay?" he asks softly.
She nods, still wide eyed. "Daddy and Uncle Kade yelled really fuckin' loud."
Jonas chokes and turns his head. Kade mumbles an 'uh oh', and somewhere in the apartment someone breaks into full belly laughs.
"Mia Sofia Collins," Evie says from the dining table, lips twitching, "that's a grown up word and you know it."
Mia's little mouth turns down in a wobbly pout, and I want to tell Evie to stop being so mean, which is stupid, considering she's completely right. Fuck is most definitely a grown up word.
"I sorry, Mama." Mia says mournfully, taking the hamster from Jonas's shoulder and dragging her feet toward us. She stops right in front of Maverick, lower lip trembling.
Seeing him immediately scoop her onto his lap does something funny to my insides. The easy way he holds her, and how comfortable she is with him surprises me.
Maybe it shouldn't. He told me I didn't really know him, and he's right. Because somehow I never imagined a version of Maverick that was this natural holding a kid. A really freaking adorable kid at that.
He presses a kiss to the top of her head, and rubs her back. She sighs heavily, and mutters. "I don't like grown-up words. It's dumb. All words should be everybody words."
Maverick grins, and tips her chin up until she's looking right at him. "Some rules don't make sense, but we have to follow them anyway. One day, you'll be a grown up, and you'll be able to tell your own kids that they don't get to use them."
She scowls, pondering that, then nods, as if she's come to some sort of internal decision. Thankfully, she doesn't make us wait long. "When I'm the Mama, my kids will say the bad words and not gets in trouble."
Nan hoots, making Mia turn in Maverick's lap to look at her. "Well young lady, that sounds like a good plan to me. I hope I'm around to see how it goes." Her twinkling eyes meet mine over Mia's head. "You know, my granddaughter was a lot like you when she was little. She liked grown up words, a lot. She got her mouth washed out with soap weekly for a while there."
Mia gasps, and I tilt until I can see her expression. The wide eyes and mouth in an 'O' is absolutely hilarious.
"Soap?" she asks. "You wash-ed her mouth with soap? Did it hurted?"
"Why don't you ask her? She's sitting right behind you."
Another gasp, and she's spinning to face me. "Hi. I Mia."
"I'm Cady, and no, it didn't hurt. But it tasted really bad."
Mia scowls back at Nan. "Mean!"
Nan's not bothered in the least. "It worked. She stopped using grown-up words by the end of the summer."
Mia looks between Nan and I, then up at Maverick. She puts her hands on his cheeks, one still clutching the very tolerant hamster, and pulls him closer. "Uncle Mav, make sure that lady don't talk to Mama, okay?"
Maverick loses it, laughing while trying to nod solemnly. After one more glare at Nan, she hops down, wandering off to John cooking in the kitchen. He lifts her onto the counter a safe distance from the stove, then spoons out a heaping mouthful of potatoes and hands it to her. Someone else, Micah I think, whines but shuts up quickly when John gives him a look. Nan laughs again, and pushes off the couch. "I'm going to see if that young man needs some help in the kitchen."
John's scowl melts away as Nan approaches. A softer look replaces it, and as she speaks, a grin. Before I know it, she's busy chopping and chattering, looking happier than I've seen her in a while. The kitchen was always her happy place, even when she was sickest. Something about creating something nourishing always appealed to her.
And I let her give that up.
A wave of gratitude rolls through me, for Maverick, for the home he's given us, even temporarily. And for the chance to see Nan in the thick of a family, maybe for the first time ever.
"Cadence," Maverick says softly.
Hastily brushing my fingers under my eyes, I turn to him.
Maverick's hand on my shoulder is a comforting weight. "Cadence, what's wrong?"
I shake my head, not sure how to put it into words. "It's just... I didn't know what to expect, moving in with you like this. Even if it's only temporary." I glance over at Nan, who's laughing at something John said. "I didn't realize how hard everything's been on her."
Maverick follows my gaze. "She seems to be in her element in the kitchen."
A smile tugs at my lips. "She is. You should have seen her back in the day, Mav. She used to make these epic meals, and the whole house would smell amazing. Roasts that would melt in your mouth, pies with crusts so flaky they'd shatter if you looked at them wrong."
I sigh, the memories hitting me right in the gut. "After Grandpa passed, it was just the two of us, and we couldn't eat all that. Then with her health issues... she hasn't had the energy for cooking for a while. Seeing her now, back in her happy place... it means a lot."
Maverick squeezes my shoulder. "I'm glad we could give that back to her."
I nod, blinking back the tears that threaten. "Me too. Thank you, Maverick. For all of this. I know I was resistant at first, but... I think this is going to be good for us. For her."
Maverick nods, eyes soft and warm. "You know, I haven't seen John quite like this either. He's usually pretty territorial in the kitchen, but something about Nan... I don't know, maybe it's her grandma energy that gives her a pass?"
I nod, understanding. "Grandmas are like superheroes. She's been like that my whole life. Cooking, keeping the house, helping the neighbors, involved at the church. We always kept a calendar on the wall, and most of the days were filled up with Nan's activities. My grandpa and I just got hauled along most of the time." Not that I really minded. Most of the places we went, there were other kids to play with, and for me, that was heaven. I always wished I had siblings, but I wouldn't wish my mom on anyone. It's a miracle she didn't have any more kids considering the lifestyle she lived. Still lives.
"It's been a long time since any of us have had someone like Nan around," Maverick agrees. "Up until last year, it was just us. It was testosterone, and fights, and a lot of take-out. Now we have all these women around, and it's been great, honestly. But a grandma? That's something only Nick remembers."
"He lost her?" I ask softly.
"Yeah. A long time ago."
I'm grateful again that I still have Nan. I'm in my thirties, and I still get to see her every day. A lot of people can't say the same. And some, like Nick, lost theirs way too early.
He pauses for a moment, then continues. "John... he's been through a lot. He's spent half his life in prison, so I wouldn't blame him for being hard. When he got out, I think he planned to stay hard." He smiles as John barks out a laugh at something Nan says. "I'm really glad it didn't stay that way. He just fits, you know?"
"It's actually kind of amazing, when you think about it."
"How so?"
"The rest of you were already a unit. I can't imagine it was easy to make room for him." It would have been easier to forget about him, to move on.
He stares at me, dumbfounded. "We didn't make room for him. He always had a place, he just didn't know it."
God, they're all so good.
Truly good, kind men. No one would have blamed them for writing John off. They built this whole life without him, and yet as soon as he was out, they were there for him. They created this massive safety net for him and they weren't going to let him fall.
It was always just Nan, Grandpa, and me. That's it. And for a long time, they were all the safety net I needed. I knew that whatever happened, they would be there for me. And they were. Through breakups, or job losses I always knew they were my safe place to fall.
Now, there's no safety net.
Unless you count the very large, handsome man sitting next to me. But I'm not sure he does count because he's not mine, not in any way that matters. And I'm very aware that the luxurious surroundings we find ourselves in are temporary.
But I plan on enjoying every minute of it until then.
"Did your grandma really wash your mouth out with soap?"
Startled, I lock on him and his adorable grin. "Several times a week for most of the summer between fifth and sixth grade. She caught a few of my friends too."
Maverick laughs. "Some of the women at the club threatened to do that to me as a kid, but they never actually followed through. I guess I should be glad for that?"
The women at the club. Right, because his mom worked at a strip club, and she took him with her. I can imagine it, being young, with no support system. Trustworthy babysitters are probably hard to find and expensive, so being able to take her son with her to work would probably have been a lifesaver.
"Definitely, yes. Looking back, it's funny. I'm not sure what got into me that year…that's a lie, I do know. Christopher. That's what happened. I got a stupid crush, but he liked this sassy girl from another class that used grown-up words. Actually, there were lots of differences between us, but that's the one that I latched onto. So I added a few juicy ones into my vocabulary. Most of them I learned from Nan, who's never met a swear word she didn't like."
"That makes it so much harder," Mavrick groans. "You're hearing it at home and school, but you're not supposed to say it? Torture!"
"Right!" I gently slap his thigh, then realize what I've done and casually pull my hand back. Maverick stares down at his thigh. Clearing my throat, I continue. "That's what I said. And I got the grown-up words lecture, which I didn't buy at the time. So I pushed it. And pushed it. And the damned woman out stubborned me."
"There was this one time," I start, already giggling at the memory, "I had just gotten my mouth washed out, and I was so mad. I was standing there, fuming, with this mouthful of suds, and then... I burped."
Maverick's eyebrows shoot up. "Please tell me what I think happened, actually did?"
I nod, barely containing my laughter. "It was this huge, echoing thing in our tiny bathroom, and it just... it blew this giant bubble, right out of my mouth. It was like something out of a cartoon."
I suck in a deep breath, memories of Nan's face swirling through my mind. "You should have seen her when it happened. Back then, I thought she was mad, but now, looking back? She was clenching every muscle in her body trying to hold back her laughter." I sigh, grinning at him. "It was funny."
He's laughing, shaking his head, and he's beautiful. Arm stretched across the back of the couch, sleeves on his white button up shirt rolled up his forearms. He's not my type, not really. Most of the guys I've dated have been guys who work with their hands. I have a thing for carpenters, welders, and even a guy who whittled wood.
So why am I so attracted to Maverick? If I'd passed him on the street in his suit, I'd flirt, for sure, then I'd carry on my merry way. I'd judge him as a stiff, not my type, and that would be that. Yeah, if we met in a bar, I'd probably go home with him and have a great time.
But that would be it.
But I didn't meet him on the street. I met him when he was lying on the floor of my rescue, curled against the chain link of one of the kennels, singing the most off key version of Twinkle Twinkle I've ever heard. The little pomeranian he was singing to didn't seem to mind, and occupied herself with licking any parts of his face she could reach.
Meeting him like that, surrounded by equally drunk family members made an impression. A big one. Yeah, I was attracted. I got to see his soft underbelly.
And then that night, on the pole, I saw how not soft he actually is. The man's muscles have muscles. Everything about him is solid, from his chiseled calf muscles to the ropey veins in his arms.
A woman sees a man like that, she can't help but wonder how he'd feel up close and personal.
And he's so good. Kids love him, he takes care of everyone around him, including Nan and I. He's dependable.
And now I'm living with him.
Before, the idea that he was the boss was enough to keep me away, despite temptation. But now? What the hell is going to stop me from running my hands along those abs? There are too many ways for this to go bad.
I am so screwed.
Hopefully.
Aw shit. See? Screwed.