Page 55 of Maverick

She catches me looking and raises an eyebrow, a small smirk playing at her lips. "See something you like, Mav?"

"Always," I reply without thinking, the word slipping out before I can stop it.

Her eyes widen, and for a moment, I think I've gone too far. But then she smiles, a real, genuine smile that lights up her whole face. "Careful," she teases, her voice low and playful. "A girl could get used to hearing things like that."

"A girl should," I say, holding her gaze. "Especially when it's the truth."

The air between us is charged, the tension so thick it feels like I could reach out and scoop it out of the air. For a moment, I forget all about my mission, all about Nan and getting her approval. All I can see is Cadence, all I can think about is how badly I want to close the distance between us and...

The sound of a door opening breaks the spell, and we both take a hasty step back. Nan enters the kitchen, wrapped in her robe, and gives us a knowing look. "Morning, you two. I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"What? No, no, you didn't interrupt anything at all," I stutter out, my face flushing hot. Smooth, Mav, real smooth.

Nan looks me up and down, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Honey, if I were thirty years younger... hell, even twenty, I'd be all over that." She gestures at my barely-clad body, and my face feels like it's been scorched by the sun.

Cadence bursts out laughing, the sound bright and joyful in the early morning light. "Nan!" she scolds, but there's no real heat behind it.

I make a hasty retreat, mumbling something about getting dressed as I hurry back to my room, Cadence's laughter echoing in my ears as I close the door behind me.

I rummage through my drawers, pulling out a ratty old t-shirt and a pair of faded sweatpants. They're a far cry from my usual tailored suits and designer labels, but right now, I just want to be comfortable.

When I emerge from my room, Cadence is sitting at the kitchen table, cradling a steaming mug of coffee in her hands. She looks up as I enter, and her eyes go a little fuzzy, like she's seeing me for the first time.

I'm baffled by her reaction. I've worn countless expensive outfits around her, from custom-made suits to designer jeans, and she's never batted an eye. But now, seeing me in a threadbare t-shirt and sweatpants, she looks at me like I'm the most fascinating thing she's ever seen.

"What?" I ask, suddenly self-conscious. "Is there something wrong?"

She blinks, shaking her head as if to clear it. "No, no, you're fine. More than fine, actually." She blushes, ducking her head to take a sip of her coffee.

Well, that's fucking fascinating. Who knew that all it took to get Cadence's attention was a pair of ratty old sweats? I'll have to remember that for future reference.

This woman is so fucking confusing.

With one more long look at Cadence, I sit at the kitchen table, watching Nan putter around the kitchen. She's humming to herself as she pulls out pans and ingredients, and I can't help smiling. John cooks for us, and some of the women too, but this is the first time someone’s in my kitchen, cooking for me. It’s both strange and really fucking welcome.

"Nan, you don't have to do this," I say, but she just waves me off.

"Nonsense," she says, cracking eggs into a bowl. "You two work so hard, it's the least I can do."

I lean back in my chair, trying to relax and let her do her thing. It's not easy, though. I'm so used to being the one taking care of everyone else, always jumping in to help or solve problems. Sitting back and letting someone else take care of anything feels wrong.

But at the same time, there's something warm and comforting about it. Watching Nan move around the kitchen with such ease and familiarity, it's obvious that she's putting a lot of love into every movement.

"Smells amazing, Nan," Cadence says, sliding into the chair opposite me. She's done something to her hair. It's smoother. Less…big. It looks nice, but it looked good the other way too. Pretty sure she'd be just as hot if she were bald.

"Blueberry pancakes," Nan says, winking at her. "Your favorite."

Cadence's eyes light up with a mix of hunger and excitement. We’ve got to be in for something good.

"Sounds delicious," I say.

As Nan cooks, Cadence and I set aside our awkwardness from this morning, and chat about our plans for the weekend. She tells me about some new dogs that just came into the rescue, her eyes lighting up with passion.

And there's nowhere else I want to be than right here, listening to her talk about something she loves.

Nan sets a plate of steaming pancakes in front of each of us, and the conversation lulls as we dig in. The pancakes are fluffy and sweet, bursting with fresh blueberries, and I definitely moan after the first bite.

"Nan, these are incredible," I say around a mouthful of pancake.

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