Page 41 of Maverick

And yet here I am, desperate to get inside. Just like I was several times this week. But this time is different. This time, it’s just going to be the two of us.

"Fuck it," I mumble, hauling my ass out of the car. It's early, but I don't see the harm in heading inside to take care of the dogs. I have the code, and maybe if I get most of the work done before she gets here, we'll get some quality one on one time. To like…talk and shit.

I slip into the rescue quietly, disarming the alarm with the code Nick gave me. Some of the dogs start barking as soon as the keypad beeps. I push through the door to the kennels and greet them, their tails wagging.

"Hey, guys," I murmur, smiling. "Breakfast time." I may not be a dog guy, but how can you not smile at this kind of enthusiasm?

I consult the whiteboard on the wall, making sure I give each dog the right amount of food. Thank fuck she made the chart, otherwise I'd be really lost. As I move from kennel to kennel, the barking settles into a contented silence, punctuated only by the sound of happy munching.

When I get back to the kitchen, I knock a bag of dog food over, spilling kibbles all over the floor. Perfect. Why don't I trash the rest of the place while I'm at it? I search everywhere for a broom and dustpan, but no luck. There's a door marked private off the kennels, so I head that way. The part of me that wants to stay on her good side doesn't want to go anywhere I'm not supposed to, but I want Cadence to walk in and find a giant mess even less.

I open the door quietly, seeing another hallway, with one door marked office, and another marked storage, so obviously, I check there first and bam, there's the broom. "Gotcha!" I say, grabbing it, then turn and bang my shin into a mop bucket. Cursing, I head back down the hallway, and nearly piss myself as a whirlwind of blonde hair and smooth skin attacks me with a bat.

My instincts are well honed thanks to my brothers. When you have as many brothers as I do, you have to always be at the ready. You never know when someone's going to tackle you, or aim a nut-punch your way just because.

I throw my arm up and block the bat, then tuck in and take the luscious blonde to the wall and my body perks up. Dicks are so fucking inconvenient sometimes.

"Cadence," I yell, pressing my body into hers. "It's me, Maverick. Stop for fuck's sake."

She freezes, giving me a second to register details that I didn't before. Like the fact that her legs are mostly bare. Or the serious case of bed head she's sporting. Then other, more disturbing details register.

Her eyes finally meet mine, and in them I see a wild mix of nerves and attitude. "What the fuck!" she breathes, chest heaving. "What are you doing here?"

My brain, cataloging facts and coming up with a conclusion I'm not at all happy about, latches onto her words. "What am I doing here? I think the better question is what the fuck are you doing here?"

Pulling herself up to her full height, still a good eight inches shorter than me, she goes on the attack. Not a bad strategy, but not one that's going to work with me. "Seriously dude? This is my place. How the fuck did you get in here?"

She wants to play it this way? Sure, I'll play. It'll give me a little time to calm the fuck down. "Nick gave me the code, and the key. He texted you to let you know."

She scowls, looking off into the corner. "I broke my phone last night."

"Well, there you go. Now, I was nice enough to answer your questions, how about you answer mine? Ready? Here we go. Question one: Why the fuck are you wearing pajamas and look like you just got out of bed?"

I've met all kinds of liars. Really good ones that look you in the eye and make you believe every word that's coming out of their mouths. Then the middle tier of liars, who have a few tells. They're good enough to fool most people, but not me.

The lower-tier liars aren't believable, but they do it with such conviction and ferocity, that it's exhausting to wade through it. When it happens in a courtroom, it's a tiring, frustrating process.

I wonder what kind Cadence will be?

Scowling, she glares at the middle of my chest. There's a tick in her jaw like she's grinding her teeth. Finally, she raises her hands and pushes against my chest. I step back, giving her a couple inches of space, and privately mourn the loss of contact.

Exhaling heavily, she raises her eyes to mine. I brace myself for the disappointment of her lie. "None of your business."

Well fuck, that's a pleasant surprise. "Maybe not, but I did just get attacked while volunteering at your rescue. I think that makes it my business."

She winces. "I'm sorry about that."

"Good. So sorry, you'll explain why you were sleeping here last night."

"I was tired," she says defensively. But I don't miss the fact that she doesn’t really explain.

"You're in pajamas."

"I wasn't going to sleep in my clothes."

Raking my hand through my hair, I groan. "Can you stop fucking around. Something —"

The door next to us opens, revealing an older woman with short gray hair, sticking straight up, a sleep mask pushed up to the top of her head. "Jesus, what the hell is happening out here. It's Saturday for fuck's sake."

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