Page 46 of Maverick

Cadence gasps, her hand flying to her chest in mock outrage. "I do not! You're the one who could wake the dead with your snoring. Remember when the neighbors called the cops, because they thought a chainsaw murderer broke into the house?"

I lean against the wall, a grin spreading across my face as I watch the two women banter back and forth. There's a warmth and ease to their relationship and to their joking that I love. It reminds me a lot of my family, actually. It's clear they've beenthrough a lot together, but their bond has only grown stronger for it.

Finally, Nan waves her hand dismissively. "Alright, alright. Enough of this. You two scoot on out of here so I can get settled. I want to sit by that window and finish my book."

Cadence rolls her eyes affectionately. "Okay Nan, we'll leave you to your reading."

As we step out into the hallway, I turn to Cadence, my expression softening. "So, what do you think of your room?"

She looks up at me, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "It's lovely, Maverick. Really. But you know, we were fi-"

I press a finger gently against her lips, silencing her protest. They were not fine, and it doesn’t matter how many times she says it, it’s still never going to be true. "You're here now," I murmur, my gaze intense. "Let's just focus on that."

Cadence's eyes widen slightly, and I can feel the warmth of her breath against my finger. For a moment, we just stand there, the air between us charged with something unspoken. I want to pull her closer, to tell her that I want to take care of her, to make sure she never has to worry about anything again.

She's not the kind of woman who wants to be taken care of. She's strong, independent, and fiercely proud. But I'm going to do it anyway. I let my hand drop back to my side, fingers tingling, and offer her a small smile.

"Let me get the rest of your things."

"Oh, no, that's okay. I can grab?—"

"Fuck Cadence! Why can't you let me help you? What's so wrong with letting me carry your bags? Or give you a place to stay? Why does it have to be a battle with you?" I ask tiredly, leaning against the wall. There are women that will demand men take care of them. They expect it. But not her.

"It's…I…shit," she mumbles, running her hands through her hair. "I'm sorry. I'm acting like an ungrateful ass." She sighsand drops her hands, looking from Nan's door, to me. She heads down the short hallway to the kitchen, and leans against the counter, arms crossed. "It's not that I don't appreciate you putting us up. This is a huge upgrade from where we were. I know that. But…I just hate that you have to, you know? I should have been able to take care of her. We never should have had to sell the house. I just hate all of this. And I hate that we're a charity case."

"You're not a charity case Cadence. That's not what this is."

"What is it then, Mav? Why am I sleeping in my boss's guest room?"

"That's not what this fucking is. I hate that you keep putting it like that."

"How should I put it?"

"Maybe I'm a fucking human being, giving my friend a place to stay. Does it really have to be more complicated than that?"

"Yes! Because it is more complicated than that. This job matters. It's helping Nan and I get out of the hole. And you are my boss. That's a fact."

"So I'll sell the goddamned club! Or give it to Trixie. There, problem solved."

"Now who's being dramatic?"

"You don't think I'd do it?"

"Give your club away so I'm more comfortable staying with you? No, I don't think you'd do tha— wait, what are you doing?" She lunges for my arm, slapping at my phone. We wrestle for it, then it connects to a sleepy sounding Trixie.

"Boss, what's up? Everything okay?"

"Fine," I yell as Cadence's ass presses into my thighs. She's grunting, trying to grab the phone out of my hand. "I'm going to sign?—"

Giving up on grabbing the phone, Cadence turns in my arms and slaps both hands over my mouth, glaring. "Nothing Trixie.Mav's just a little out of his head right now," she says, shouting down at the phone. "Everything's fine. Sorry we bothered you on a Saturday morning."

Trixie mumbles a goodbye, and hangs up, apparently unfazed by the whole conversation. I don't move, too lost in all that is Cadence, pressed up against me. Cadence is glaring up at me, but slowly pulls back.

I put my hand on her back, and pull her back into me. "In case you're not super clear on this, let me lay it out for you. I own that club, because the people in it matter to me. That's it. It's a thing, supporting people I care about. I am not the boss. I barely think about that place day to day. I am a lawyer and an owner of Brash. That's my business. So this line you've drawn, this boss employee line? It's imaginary. In any way that really matters, I'm not your boss. So can you please drop it? Please?"

She's so close, I can see the flecks of gold in her brown eyes. Everything about her is beautiful, from her long eyelashes, and the hint of freckles on the tip of her nose. Her skin looks softer than anything I've ever seen.

"Fine," she finally says, voice a whisper. "You're not my boss. Not in any way that matters." She pats my chest, and steps back, my hands falling from her back. "I'm going to go get unpacked."

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