I nod in understanding, a swell of affection for Maverick rising in my chest. He truly has created something special here,giving these women a safe haven and a sense of dignity that was clearly lacking before.
"I'm glad he was able to turn things around and make this a better place for you all," I say sincerely. "He really seems to care about everyone."
Alexis smiles softly. "Yeah, I can tell. He's always going above and beyond. He didn't have to help me. But he popped in and found me crying, and before I knew it, he was jumping in to help."
"He's a good man," I admit. She knows it already, but it was easier for me to think of him as a billionaire playboy than a hard-working, good-hearted man. Easier to resist him, too.
Suddenly, I'm overcome with a fierce need to understand this man better, to peel back the layers and discover what makes him tick. What does he really want? Really need?
Who does he need?
The thought sends a shiver down my spine, and I quickly push it away. Those are dangerous waters, and I can't afford to get swept up in that particular current right now. Not with everything else on my plate.
Still, I can't quite shake the image of Maverick, shoulders slumped, tie askew, as he pores over files and contracts late into the night. It tugs at my heartstrings in a way I didn't expect.
Clearing my throat, I force myself back into the present moment. "Well, you just let me know if there's anything I can do to help, okay?" I tell Alexis, giving her hand a final squeeze. "I'm not much use when it comes to legal stuff, but I'm a great listener."
She nods gratefully, patting my shoulder as she stands. "Thanks Cady. Have a good night."
Slipping my feet out of my heels, I flex my toes, sighing with relief. The money is great here, yeah, but waitressing is no joke.Sure I did it back in high school, but I was wearing shorts and sneakers. This is a whole other level.
Pulling my phone out of my back pocket, I settle in to crush some candy—a mindless distraction, as Nan puts it. But sometimes a girl just needs to shut off her brain, you know? A text comes through right in the middle.
Nick: I’m sorry, something’s come up. Bree and I can’t be there in the morning. I have to do a thing for Ransom
Nick and Bree are some of my most reliable volunteers at this point. I'm sure a lot of it has to do with Goldie, the dog Nick's adopted. I guess technically, we haven't done the paperwork, but he's claimed her and made sure everyone knows it. He's also paying all her bills, which is so appreciated, but even if he wasn't, there's no way I would let her go to anyone else. He's put in the work with her, earning her trust. They're perfect for each other.
It’s okay. I’ll sleep in and take care of it myself. Thanks for letting me know
Yeah, it's disappointing not to have a volunteer. Having Nick and Bree there not only makes everything faster, but more fun. You know what else is fun? Sleep. I can't remember the last time I slept in. I usually don't wear ear plugs when Nan's around, just in case she needs me. But tonight, I plan on escaping the world.
And maybe dreaming of a certain dark haired, slightly furry, pole dancer.
13
MAVERICK
I'm a loser. That's all there is to it. Saturday morning, and I've got nothing to do.
Alright, so that's not true. I have plenty I could do. But I'm restless. My sleep has been shit the last week. Too many dreams of soft lips, gentle moans, and my hands tangled in a wild mane of hair.
They feel too fucking real.
My phone dings with the family chime, and maybe I dive for it. I'll do anything right now. Paint a room? I'm your guy. Grocery run? I love grocery shopping.
Nick: I had to bail on Cady today. Ransom wants me to head out and see if I can talk that Blair guy into selling. Any chance you can head there to help out? I have the key, and I can give you the alarm code.
Yeah, I can do that. I'll make some time.
Nick: Yeah, make some time for the woman you're obsessed with. Good plan. Fucker.
Nick: I'll message her, let her know you're coming. Head over around 8, okay?
I'll see her in an hour. That's nothing.
My watch is broken.It has to be. Time is standing still. You'd think a $25,000 watch would work better. I yank out my phone, but it's telling me the same damn thing. I’m parked outside the rescue, too damn early. My fingers drum against the steering wheel. I'm a mess. My stomach is in knots, and I can't stop fidgeting. I check my hair in the mirror for the twentieth time, then groan.Get over yourself, Maverick. I'm aware I'm acting like teenager waiting to pick up a date, which is fucking stupid. This is so far from a date. I'm probably going to have to touch poop again.
Yet I'm still here. That has to say something about my feelings for her, doesn't it, that I'm happily spending my Saturday morning with a bunch of dogs. Not that I don't like animals, but volunteering at a rescue is the last thing I'd add to my plate right now. There already aren't enough hours in the day.