Chapter 20
20
MAVERICK
N an's huddled with a group of seniors, her face animated as she chats with them. I'm pretty sure she's trying to convince them to let us younger guys join in on their pickleball game. A couple of older guys keep smirking over at us. Is it wrong that I want to smack that look off their faces?
Yeah, it's wrong. Hitting eighty year olds isn't okay. I'm pretty sure it's a rule.
I turn to Nick and Jonas. "Listen, I've been trying to find a moment to talk to Nan about my feelings for Cadence, but you two keep interrupting. So we're going to play this fucking game, then you're going to excuse yourselves, got it?"
Nick raises an eyebrow. "Your feelings for Cadence, huh? Do tell."
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "Don't play dumb. You know damned well I can't stop thinking about her. She's incredible, and living with her these past few weeks has only made me fall for her harder."
Jonas leans in, nodding seriously. "That's how it happens. You get her in your space, and soon you can't imagine your life without her. You judged me when I proposed to Janey, but you did exactly the same thing. You could have given them the extra apartment. But you didn't."
I shoot him a look. "No, I didn't. And you're right, I judged you, hard. Honestly, I'm judging myself pretty damned hard, too. Just because I followed your lead doesn't mean I actually think it's an ethical thing to do. I should have given them a choice. But instead, I pushed my own fucking agenda. And even though I feel bad, I'm not sorry."
"I guess it depends on what your intentions are," Nick says, leaning against the wall. "You planning to fuck her or marry her?"
I glare at him. "I want to date her, obviously. I want to make her happy, support her dreams, be there for her. But I need to talk to Nan first, make sure she's okay with it. If I don't have her blessing, it could be a really big problem."
"Problem," Jonas says, frowning. "Why would it…oh! Sexual relations would be challenging with her wandering around the apartment."
"Could be fun though too, sneaking around," Nick says, sounding distracted.
Jonas's eyes go hazy. "I like sneaking around. My Janey and I do it at work all the time."
Nick and I trade glances, grinning. "I hate to break it to you brother, but waving, and giving us a thumbs up as you and Janey do the walk of shame isn't really 'sneaking'."
Jonas just smirks.
"It's a smart move," Nick says. "Getting the grandma's blessing."
"Exactly," I agree. "But I can't do that with you two hovering around so after the game, you're gone, okay?"
Nick claps me on the shoulder. "After we play, then we'll go. Right now, we're going to kick some ass. Then we'll eat pickles."
Again with the fucking pickles.
We head over to where Nan is still chatting with her friends. She looks up as we approach, a mischievous twinkle in her eye that sends a little wave of dread through my body.
"Well, well, well. Look who's decided to join us. You boys ready to learn how to play pickleball?"
I grin, pushing thoughts of Cadence to the back of my mind for now. "Bring it on, Nan. Let's see what you've got."
The sweat pours down my face as I bend over, hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. Nick's right beside me, equally winded. Jonas saunters over, cool as a fucking cucumber.
"You are not doing well. At all. I suspect that you're the worst players in the history of this sport," he says, shaking his head. "This is embarrassing." Then he wanders away, pulling up a seat at a table of little white haired ladies, who immediately pass him a cinnamon bun the size of his head. He even lets one of them pat his hand.
The man's a food whore.
"When we get home, remind me to break into his Lego room and tear apart his Hogwarts model."
Nick gasps out a laugh, and stands, propping his hands on his waist. "I'll help you."
I straighten up, wiping my brow with the back of my hand. Nick and I are getting our asses handed to us by two eighty-year-old men. When they first stepped onto the court, I felt bad for them. They shuffled more than walked, knees barely bending. Their tennis whites were crisp and clean and they were obviously taking it very seriously, so I made damned sure not to laugh.
I'm not fucking laughing now.
Holy fuck, can these geezers hit. The moment the game started, they transformed. Their paddles became extensions of their arms, whipping through the air with a speed and precision that left us holding our dicks in our hands. They placed the ball exactly where they wanted it, sending Nick and me scrambling from one end of the court to the other. Yeah it's a small court, but it's still a fuck of a lot of running. Just when we'd return a serve on one side, they'd hit to the other.
My knees fucking hurt.
Meanwhile, these old assholes haven't broken a sweat. They're not even breathing hard. It's like they're taking a leisurely stroll in the park while Nick and I are running a fucking marathon. Their feet haven't fucking moved. At the most, they've leaned from side to side.
"This is embarrassing," Nick mutters as we regroup for the next serve. "I thought we were in decent shape."
I nod, still trying to catch my breath. "Apparently not pickleball shape. These guys are machines."
One of our opponents, a wiry man with a shock of white hair, grins at us from across the net. "You boys ready for another round?" he asks, bouncing the ball on his paddle.
I glance at Nick, who shrugs. "Bring it on, old man," I call out, trying to sound more confident than I feel.
The serve comes fast and low, and I lunge for it, barely getting my paddle on the ball. It pops up, an easy shot for our opponents. The other man, built like a tank despite his age, smashes it back at us. Nick dives, but the ball skids past him, bouncing twice before he can get to it.
"Nice shot," I say grudgingly as we rotate positions.
The white-haired man chuckles. "You kids are putting up a good fight. We haven't had a workout like this in years."
"You're not even breathing hard," Nick says, his tone dry.
The old guy winks. "I get my cardio horizontal, son."
Both of us freeze, looking back at one another. "Did this fucker just tell me his cardio is fucking?" Nick asks, eyes wide.
"Yeah, he did."
"Jesus. I want to be him when I grow up. If I survive this, that is."
The game continues, and despite our best efforts, we just can't seem to gain any ground. These men move like they're half their age, anticipating our shots and countering with a finesse that's both impressive and really fucking infuriating.
As another ball whizzes past my ear, I can't do anything but laugh. We're fucking pathetic.
"I can't go out like this," Nick wheezes, glaring at the men. "Come on! We’re forty years younger than them. This is fucking pathetic."
I grit my teeth as Nick slams the ball back over the net with a grunt. The old guys' eyes widen, and then narrow. Oh shit. He just poked the bear.
The taller white-haired man returns Nick's shot with a vengeance, sending the ball rocketing toward my face at breakneck speed. I throw my paddle up just in time, but the force of the impact sends shockwaves through my arm. The ball ricochets off my paddle, and the paddle slams into my forehead. Fuck, that hurt. I swear I see little cartoon birds flying past my eyes.
The men across from us don't skip a beat. I'm in no position to return the serve, but Nick decides to be a fucking hero, diving for the ball like he's in a damn action movie. But he launches himself too far, and instead of hitting the ball, it slams right into his crotch with a sickening thud.
"Fuck!" he howls, dropping to the ground like a sack of potatoes. He curls into a fetal position, clutching his junk and whimpering.
"Ah fuck," the shorter one mutters. "Does he have kids yet?" he yells over at me. I shake my head as Jonas barks out a laugh behind me.
"He's not having any now, that's for damn sure. Nice hit Joe." They pat each other's backs, and shuffle toward the net, looking down at Nick with slightly sympathetic smiles. "You kids did okay. Next time, you'll do better."
"Next time?" Nick wheezes, laying his cheek on the gym floor. "I'm never coming back here. Now get me up. I need a doctor to extract my testicle from my lung."
"He sure turned that around quick," Nan says, coming up beside me. She's still breathing hard from her match, but there's a twinkle in her eye as she surveys the scene.
She chuckles as we watch Nick milk his injury for all it's worth, soaking up the attention from the gaggle of older ladies surrounding him. He's got a shit-eating grin on his face as one particularly bold woman hand-feeds him a bite of cinnamon bun. Another is running her fingers through his hair, and I swear I can hear him purring from here.
I shake my head, amazed at my brother's ability to charm women of any age. "He's always been good at that. Landing on his feet, no matter the situation."
Nan snorts. "More like landing on his back, from the looks of it." She turns to me, her expression turning serious. "You keep an eye on him, you hear? Those women may look sweet, but they're cougars through and through. He doesn't know what he's getting himself into."
I raise an eyebrow, glancing back at Nick. He's now sitting up, the ice pack forgotten as he gestures animatedly, clearly telling some sort of story. The women are hanging on his every word, their laughter ringing out across the gym.
"I don't know, Nan. He looks like he's handling himself just fine."
She gives me a look. "Trust me, honey. I know a thing or two about cougars. They may seem harmless, but they'll eat a young buck like him alive."
Laughing at that mental image, I reassure her, "I'll keep an eye on him, I promise. But I think he can take care of himself. He's a big boy."
Nan just shakes her head, a knowing smile on her face. "Famous last words," she mutters.
We watch as Nick stands up, wincing slightly as he adjusts the ice pack. The women flutter around him, offering their arms for support. He accepts graciously, flashing them a winning smile as they help him limp off the court.
Jonas joins us, his own plate of cinnamon buns in hand. "Looks like Nick's made some new friends," he observes dryly.
"How many of those have you had," I ask, staring down at the massive, sweet smelling chunk of heaven.
Jonas just shrugs, taking a big bite of his pastry. "I've lost count."
As he brings the treat down to the plate, I stomp on his foot. His grip loosens, and I take the opportunity to snatch it out of his hand. Other than a glare, he doesn't react.
"He's just going to let you take it like that?" Nan asks, hands on hips as Jonas walks away.
"He's full," I say, taking another big bite. "You heard him. He said he lost track of how many. That means he's just eating because they're good, not because he actually has room to fit it in. So, I took it."
"And if he wasn't full? You would have left him to it?"
"No. I would have still taken it, but I would have had to fight a hell of a lot harder."
"Huh," she says looking up at me. "I'm seeing that boys are very different from girls."
"In lots of ways."
Laughing, she shakes her head. "My daughter was a good kid. Polite, well mannered. Listened well. She wasn't a bit of trouble." Her nose wrinkles. "At least I didn't think she was. But I missed a lot of what she was doing. I don't know if Patty was just good at hiding the things she was doing, or if I was just blind to it. At least you boys are up front about your shenanigans."
"Cadence ended up with you…" I let it trail off. Other than the fact that her Nan raised her, I don't know much about Cadence's childhood.
Nan sighs, and with one more glance at my brothers, both surrounded by white-haired women, moves out of the gym. She settles into a little sitting area and waves me into the other seat. "Once Patty graduated high school, she took off. We thought she had all these plans for her future. She talked about college, and wanting to be a teacher. And then a few mornings after graduation, she came down with her bags packed, kissed me on the cheek, and she was gone. Poof, just like that.” She shakes her head. “We'd get a postcard here and there, but she only called once. I was upset, and tried to convince her she was throwing her life away. I didn't understand why she changed so drastically. It wasn't until later that I started learning about the things she was doing, and the people she was spending time with."
"How did you find out?"
"People started to talk. At church. Old teachers. Friends of hers who stayed in town. It painted a picture that I didn't much like." She crosses her legs, the toe of her white sneaker bobbing as she continues. "I wasn't the strictest mom. George and I were so happy to have her that we spoiled her a little bit. We tried for a long time to have a baby, and we knew there wouldn't be any others, so Patty was it for us. She got all our love and attention, and I never regretted a minute of it. But maybe we loved her so much, we were blind to the fact that she was drinking, and lying to us about where she was. And spending time with boys."
"How long before you saw her again?"
Her hand smooths the hem of her shirt. "She showed up three years later, looking like a different person. Her hair was stringy, she'd lost weight she didn't need to lose. I knew right away what was going on. So did my George. He was a policeman, you know. On the force here for forty years. He dealt with addiction every day on the job."
She shakes her head and presses her lips together before continuing. "She said she wanted help, so that's what we did. We got her into one of those treatment places. And it seemed to work. She did the program, and she settled back into the house with us. She even talked about college again. Then one day we woke up, and she was gone. The next time she came back, she had a three-month-old baby."
"Cadence," I say quietly.
"Cadence," she echoes. "Patty stayed for a few days, but it was clear that she was struggling to take care of her. So she asked…" she winces, biting off her words. "That's not true, she didn't ask. She told us that she planned to give Cadence up. George and I had fallen in love with her, and we just couldn't imagine letting her go. So we said we'd take her. Patty stuck around long enough to sign guardianship paperwork, then she was gone."
"That must have been tough, ending up parents all over again."
"Tough?" she says with a snort. "I fell asleep in the grocery store parking lot. Twice. That child was allergic to sleep. It's like she didn't want to miss anything, and as long as someone was holding her, she was happy. She'd sob when you put her to bed, then she was pure sunshine when you came back in the room. She's been like that her whole life. Sunshine, through and through, even when she was naughty."
"I can see that. I haven't known her a long time, but she…shines."
"I figured you saw it. I mean, why else would a man like you haul a woman and her grandma back to his place? It's obvious you've fallen for her."
I clear my throat, shifting in my seat. "You're not wrong," I admit, meeting Nan's gaze. "I can't stop thinking about her. Cadence, she's...she's something special."
Nan nods, her expression unreadable. "And what exactly are your intentions with my granddaughter?"
This was the whole point of this outing, to talk to Nan, but damn, I didn't expect to be this nervous. "I like her, Nan. A lot. And I think she might feel the same way. But the moment she found out I was her boss, she shut down. She put up these massive walls between us."
"Can you blame her?" Nan asks, raising an eyebrow. "The kind of money you boys have is…power. A woman would be a fool to jump in with both feet. When you add in the fact that her paycheck is coming from you?" She shakes her head. "Of course, she's cautious."
"I would never do anything to jeopardize her security," I say firmly. "Cadence's job is safe, no matter what. I'm not that kind of man. I assured her of that."
Nan studies me for a long moment, her eyes piercing. "And what kind of man are you, Maverick?"
I meet her gaze head-on. "The kind who cares deeply about the people in his life. The kind who would do anything for the ones he loves. And the kind who knows that family is everything."
"And the kind that is out late most nights, working."
Well damn, she doesn't pull any punches. "I'm trying to lighten my caseload. I take on outside cases, but they've started to take over my life in a way that's not…healthy. I'm working on that."
Nan's expression softens slightly, but she's not letting me off the hook that easily. "Relationships take time and effort. I am assuming that's what you want with my Cady?" She waits for my nod and then continues. "And what do you want from me, exactly?"
I take a deep breath, knowing this is the moment of truth. "Your blessing," I say simply. "I know how important you are to Cadence. You're her whole world. And I respect that. I respect you. I would never want to come between you two or do anything to upset the balance of your relationship. And with all of us living in my place, there's a distinct possibility you'll be right in the middle of everything."
Nan leans back in her seat, considering my words. "Is that what you imagined? Courting a young woman with her grandma sitting next to her at the dinner table? That can't be appealing."
Nan's expression is doubtful, and I guess I should have expected that. "Do you know how we grew up? Do you know much about my family's history?"
"No, son, I don't. I know that you're not all blood, but not much else. I've been trying to keep to myself and not wiggle myself into your family."
I didn't know she was trying to keep herself separate, and I want to punch myself in the gut. Why didn't I do a better job of helping her settle in? I just saw a busy woman, always out at her community center, and didn't think about it. She should have never felt like she had to stay out of my way.
"I'm sorry you felt that way. That I made you feel that way. That's not really how we operate. When I invited you to live with me, I mostly knew what I was signing up for. I meant for you to feel completely at home. I'm sorry I didn't make that clear." She nods, a small smile on her lips, and I clear my throat.
"My mom was a stripper. She died when I was eight. And after she died, I was in eleven foster homes in four years. I was angry, and combative during most of that time." Maybe that's an understatement. A giant ball of rage might be a more appropriate description of my mental state in those years.
"Finally, I ended up at this facility for foster youth. The kids there were the troublemakers, the ones who couldn't hack it in families, and I fit right in. I wasn't really a troublemaker, but I couldn't keep my mouth shut. I would argue with anyone about anything. And I was damned good at it. I'd argue with the staff, and with other kids, and the arguments usually ended up with the other person pissed off and frustrated."
"It was about control," I admit. "I didn't feel like I had any, but being able to talk up one side of a person, and down the other was something I was always good at. So I did it a lot. That's when Ransom found me."
"Found you? You make it sound like some movie, where he swooped in and took you away from there."
"Nah, not exactly like that. He was only a couple of years older. I remember when he came. Some of the kids arrived with an attitude, posturing and trying to show everyone how tough they are. Others looked scared shitless. Ransom was different. He was quiet. Watchful. But even then, he held himself with a confidence that was completely unique in there. It was nearly a prison, but he made it seem like a place he was choosing to be. And then he started collecting us."
Nan leans forward, hands gripping the arms of her chair. "Collecting you?"
"Yeah. I never really questioned why he chose us. Looking back now, it's so obvious. Each one of us had a skill set or personality that makes the company what it is. I don't know if Ransom always imagined this life for us or if his plan shifted as we came together. Either way, none of us regret where we've ended up. Ransom helped us channel those parts of ourselves that made us difficult into something valuable. Something that made our family stronger."
"I can see that," she says softly, watching me carefully. I'm sure she's confused. She asked me why I'd want her around, and the only way for her to really understand, is to understand who we are.
"It was just the nine of us for a long time. And we built a good life, but after a few million, money doesn't matter all that much. All that mattered was family. But we've all lost people we loved. And even though we love each other, and see each other as family in every way that matters, something was always missing, you know?"
There's the dawning realization sweeping over her face. "Yeah honey," she says slowly. "I think I do know. My George always said I made our house a home, and I think he believed that's true. But I always saw our home as the people, and life inside it."
"Exactly. The women started coming along, and everything got better. But it wasn't just the women. Bree and Cara are sisters, and we loved having Bree around. We treated her like our own sister until Nick defiled her. And Janey's dad's coming around more. He's a pretty good guy. And now you…"
"Me?"
"Yes, you. Every family thing I've been to since you moved in, I get asked where you are. Everyone's excited about a real life grandma living here. They're all jonesing for some quality time."
She stares at me, eyes wide, for a long moment. "Quality time with me?"
"You called most of them Son, or Honey, or Love, so now they're arguing about who's going to be the first to bake cookies with you. You're maybe not a traditional grandma, you swear too fucking much for that, but that only makes you more enticing to the rest of my brothers. Nick had an amazing grandma, but he lost her too soon. The rest of us? We had to settle for whatever we saw on TV, so having you here, in our home? We couldn't be happier."
She shakes her head, a slow dawning smile breathing her face. "You're serious?" she asks, waiting for my nod. "I had no idea."
"I like having you in my home. You're funny. You're kind. You have some serious attitude that makes me like you all the more. If Cadence wasn't in the picture, I'd still want to spend time with you."
"But Cadence is in the picture."
"Right. And I'm really hooked on her. We've been mostly avoiding each other the last few weeks, but I don't want to do that anymore. But I also didn't see how I could start changing that without talking to you."
"Do you want me to clear out a little more?"
"No! That's not what I meant, at all. I just wanted to be respectful and if things progress the way I hope they will, Cadence and I…we…well. Shit."
Nan takes pity on me. "You're worried about me busting you with your hands on my granddaughter?"
"I'll be respectful, I swear, but yes, I'm worried Cadence is going to hold back with me, or use you as an excuse to not give me a chance. And I'm not asking you to step aside or give up your place in her life. I just...I just want a chance to be a part of it, too. To show her how much I care about her. But I won't do anything without your approval."
Nan is silent for a long moment, and I hold my breath, waiting for her response. Finally, she sighs, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
"You have my blessing hon, but just saying, you may have a bit of an uphill battle. My Cady is stubborn, and fierce, and very much a woman of my own making. I made too many mistakes with Patty, so I tried to bring up Cadence to be strong and confident in herself, and I succeeded."
"I know that. That's all the stuff I like about her. You're not going to warn me off? Tell me to be respectful or some other protective shit."
Nan grins, the lines around her eyes nearly hiding them. "Oh honey, I don't need to do that. But I do have a warning for you." She leans closer, crooking a finger at me. "If she decides she's had enough of your shit, and tells you to back off for real, I suggest you listen. Or you may end up spending the rest of the summer in the hospital."
Um…okay?