Page 53 of Maverick

But it's not. The soft glow of the TV flickers from the second floor. I climb the staircase, my heart a little lighter with each step knowing I don't have to turn around and spend a restless few hours trying to settle my brain.

As I crest the top of the stairs, I find Ransom lounging on the overstuffed couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He's dressed down in a pair of navy shorts and a white tank top, his muscular arms on full display. The sight is familiar, comforting in its normalcy. Ransom's private living room has always been a sanctuary of sorts. It's never been a place we all gather; we do that downstairs. But when we need some one on one time, this is where we come. And never, not once, has he turned any of us away.

"Hey," I say, dropping down onto the couch beside him.

He glances over at me, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Couldn't sleep?"

I shake my head, leaning back into the plush cushions. "Something like that."

Ransom nods, like he understands. And maybe he does. He's always had a way of reading me, of seeing beneath the surface. He can read all of us like fucking books. It used to be annoying, but now, I depend on it.

He gets up and walks over to the bar, a sleek expanse of dark wood and gleaming bottles. "Beer?" he asks, popping open the tall narrow fridge.

"Please." I catch the bottle he tosses me, the condensation cool against my palm.

We sit in comfortable silence for a while, sipping our beers and watching the muted images flicker across the TV screen. It's some old Western, all tumbleweeds and gunfights. But I'm not really paying attention. My mind keeps drifting back to Cadence, to the electricity that crackled between us in the kitchen.

"So," Ransom says, breaking the silence. "How're things going with Cadence and her grandma?"

I take a long pull from my beer, buying myself a moment to gather my thoughts. "Good, I think. I mean, it's an adjustment for all of us. But Nan seems to be settling in well. And Cadence..." I trail off, not sure how to put into words the jumble of emotions she stirs in me.

Ransom studies me, his gaze knowing. "And Cadence?" he prompts gently.

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "Cadence is...complicated."

He nods, taking a swig of his beer. "Because you're into her. You knew that going into this."

It's not a question, but a statement of fact. And hearing it out loud, put so bluntly, makes my chest tighten.

"Yeah," I admit, my voice rough. "I'm into her. But it's more than that. It's..." I struggle to find the right words. "It's like she's under my skin, you know? Like no matter what I do, I can't shake her."

Ransom is quiet for a moment, contemplative. "You don't want to shake her though, do you? You would have moved her into the extra apartment otherwise, instead of having us run around moving furniture. Have you told her how you feel?"

I bark out a laugh, the sound harsh in the stillness of the room. "And say what, exactly? 'Hey, I know you're living with me out of necessity and I'm technically your boss, but I can't stop thinking about kissing you'?"

He shrugs, a small smile playing at his lips. "Maybe not in those exact words. But yeah, something like that."

I shake my head, taking another long pull from my beer. "I can't, man. I admit that was my plan when I moved them in, but I didn't really think the fucking plan through. I've never lived with a grandma. Nan's a cool lady, but how would she feel about me putting the moves on her granddaughter? Nah, I have to scrap the plan, and wait."

Ransom leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "Wait for what exactly?"

"She told me she's nearly got enough saved to get a place, then she and Nan will move on. Then I can ask her out properly."

His mouth tightens. "Look, I get it. The situation is messy. But sometimes, the best things in life are worth a little mess. Maybe you need to talk to Cadence's grandma. I only met her briefly, but she seems like a nice woman. Someone you can skip over all the bullshit with, and just be honest about how you feel."

I let his words sink in, turning them over in my mind. He's not wrong. But the fear of losing Cadence, of ruining the fragile balance we've struck, is paralyzing.

"I don't know," I say finally, my voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know if I can risk it. If Nan says no, that's it. Cadence would never go against her grandma's wishes."

Ransom claps a hand on my shoulder, the weight of it grounding me. "That's the thing about love, little brother. It's always a risk. But if you ask me, she's a risk worth taking."

I choke on my sip of beer. "Love? It's not…I'm not…" I clamp my lips shut, and take a few deep breaths through my nose."I hadn't exactly put that together brother. That's a big fucking leap."

"Is it though? You've been talking about her for over a month. You moved her and her grandma into your place. What the fuck do you think that's all about? Because let me tell you, you're charitable as fuck, you're a do-gooder, but you've never crossed that line before. I haven't seen a line of helpless people parading through your home. So why now?"

Another denial springs to my lips, but dies a quick death. He's not wrong. At all. In fact he's pretty damned right. I've taken on a lot of pro-bono cases, for a lot of different people. Often I've paid for hotel rooms, or treatment, or anything else they might need, but never, not once, have I considered inviting one of them home. The idea of having a stranger in my home is uncomfortable.

But Cadence and her grandma don't feel like strangers.

---