Page 106 of Maverick

Colton's eyes go wide, and he starts babbling, "You know what? I'm an any kind of pie guy. Seriously, I love all pies equally. Peach, blueberry, rhubarb - bring 'em on! No preferences here, no sir!"

It's not just the words that send me into giggles, it's the way he throws his hands up like he's being robbed by some gunman in the old west.

I try to contain my laughter, but as soon as John hands Colton the pie, he runs to the corner, pressing the plate between him and the wall, cackling in joy. Of course that makes all of us want to fuck with him, but Ransom's the one that makes it to him first, trying to slide in his fork.

"No! No! Get your own," Colton yelps, his voice muffled as he hunches over his prize.

Ransom's laughing, "There is no more apple. Remember? You have to share."

Panicked, Colton bends over, and sucks the entire piece into his mouth, then rises up, cheeks full like a chipmunk's storingnuts. "Too late," he mumbles, at least I think he does. The words come out sounding like Pig Latin.

I lose it.

The sight of Colton, his cheeks bulging impossibly wide, eyes darting around like a cornered animal as he bats at Ransom's hands, is too much. I tip out of my chair, unable to control my giggles. All that's flashing in my mind is an image of someone slapping Colton's cheeks, and the pie coming flying out in a spectacular spray, covering Ransom's face. The top of John's head would literally pop off, he'd be so fucking mad. Shit, I'm a goner.

I'm gasping for air, tears streaming down my face as I roll on the floor. The laughter bubbles up from deep in my chest, uncontrollable and wild. There's no stopping it, no coming back from it. I have to just let it run it's course.

Cadence leans over, looking at me over the edge of the table. "You okay down there?" Then, as if nothing out of the ordinary is happening, she takes another bite of her pie. Her casual reaction only makes me laugh harder.

"Oh god," I wheeze, clutching my sides. "I can't... I can't breathe."

She grins, eyes roaming around the restaurant. "Well, you better get it together, or you're not going to get a slice."

I sit up, banging my head on the edge of the table. "Wait. What?"

35

CADENCE

Istumble through the door, giggling as Maverick helps Nan inside. The evening's festivities have left us all happy and full, and Nan looks ready to collapse into bed. After the pie came fruit. Then after the fruit came the booze and cards. There was yelling and laughter, and yelling. Did I mention the yelling?

My ears are still ringing.

"You boys sure know how to party," Nan says, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "I haven't had that much fun in a long time. But I'm beat, and that whiskey's gone to my head." She presses a kiss to my cheek, then one to Maverick's. "Be good," she calls over her shoulder. "Or don't. You're grown adults."

Once we hear Nan's door click shut, Maverick and I find ourselves alone in the kitchen. The air suddenly feels charged with electricity. I lean against the counter, trying to appear casual despite the butterflies in my stomach.

"How's your head?" I ask, reaching out to gently touch the spot where he bumped it on the table earlier. "Are you sure you don't need to go to the doctor?"

Maverick catches my hand, pressing a soft kiss to my palm. "I'm fine, Cady. I promise. I've had worse bumps. A lot worse."

His touch sends shivers down my spine, and I struggle to focus on his words. "Today was... something else," I manage to say.

"You were incredible," Maverick murmurs, stepping closer. His arms come to rest on either side of me, effectively caging me in. Not that I'm complaining. "The way you handled Becca? You're a badass."

I laugh, feeling a mix of pride and embarrassment. "It's been a while since I've sparred like that. I'm probably going to be sore tomorrow."

Maverick's eyes darken with interest. "I'd love to hear more about how you got those skills. What was it like growing up with a cop for a grandpa?"

As I start to tell him about Grandpa's self-defense lessons and the obstacle courses he'd set up in the backyard, Maverick begins a distraction campaign. His lips brush against my jaw, feather-light kisses that make my skin tingle. When he moves to my eyelids, I lose my train of thought entirely.

"Mav," I breathe, my hands coming up to grip his shoulders.

He pulls back just enough to meet my gaze, his eyes burning with desire. "Yeah?"

Instead of answering, I surge forward, capturing his lips with mine. The kiss is passionate, urgent, filled with all the pent-up tension that's been building between us. Maverick's hands slide down to my waist, and in one smooth motion, he lifts me onto the counter.

So fucking sexy.

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